In silence.
Zero words.
Which is just making all the sounds my body normally hides from me extra fucking loud.
Is this a mistake? Should I not have come? Should I have chosen Will?
Tears burn the backs of my eyes.
Am I too late?
Lowering my arm, I shift my weight backward, preparing to make a getaway at the first sign of their anger. No way am I standing around and letting them yell at me.
Xavier’s eyes break away from mine and dip down to my feet before zooming back up to my face. “Little dove…” he growls in warning, and it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Don’t even think about leaving.”
That seems to snap the other three out of their staring competition.
Darcy jolts in place, eyes widening. “Leave? You just got here.”
I take a shuddering inhale and blink rapidly, trying to clear the mistiness. “Uh, okay.”
Derek’s shocked face smooths out as he starts in my direction, each step controlled, tempered, like he is approaching a wild animal that will flee if he makes a sudden move.
I mean… he isn’t wrong.
There is an even split down my center about whether being here is a good idea. Maybe I should have waited until tomorrow?
No.
Fuck.
No.
I want them. I do. More than anything. Forcing myself to be away from them this entire time has been the worst kind of self-flagellation ever.
No.
I’m standing my ground against every single internal voice that is screaming at me to run, to leave. To protect myself. That Ican’t trust them. That they are like everyone else in my past who let me down. That they don’t deserve a second chance.
But unlike everyone else who let me down, they didn’t stop showing up. They’ve been here, with me, this entire time. Giving me the space I asked for. Respecting my wishes, even though they did push my boundaries whenever I gave them the opportunity to.
I could have said no, used my safe word. But I didn’t, because, deep down, I wanted what they were offering.
I want them.
Now.
Tomorrow.
Forever.
But only after we discuss the changes I want to make to the contract.
Derek has gotten as close as the edge of the couch, not really leaving the others but clearly trying to bridge the distance. “When you say you want to discuss the contract, do you mean a termination?”
I rear back like I’ve been slapped. “What? No! I just want to make some changes.”
The throwing-up feeling has returned, and I wrap my arms around my middle, the contract crinkling in my hand as I crush it to me.
