Page 148 of Top Shelf

She’s not the only one scared by the extent of her emotions. All of us come with our damage. Ronan, with his insecurity about whether he’s wanted for who he is or for his money, status, or last name. Silas with never having a home or a place he has ever truly felt like he belonged. And me with my truckload of emotional damage, never letting anyone get close…until her.

“Sweetheart,” Ronan begins, waiting until she faces him. When she stares up at him, with those soft, doe-eyes, he offers her a small smile. I can see the affection he feels for her even from the other side of the limo. “Unless you ask us for space, you are done doing anything alone.” He glances my and Silas’s way before focusing back on our girl. “None of us are sitting in this limo because we’re killing time until graduation.” His thumb brushes over her knuckles. “We’re here because we chose you.”

Silence settles over the limo.

Wren stares at him. At all of us. Like she’s trying to figure out whether we’re serious. Whether she can trust what she’s hearing.

Ronan’s expression doesn’t waver.

Neither does mine.

Beside her, Silas flips to a fresh page.

We’re not going anywhere.

Her breath catches, and for the first time since she climbed into the limo, some of the tension leaves her shoulders.

Good.

I am officially done with seeing that look in our girl’s eyes. The one that says she’s waiting for the floor to disappear beneath her. Waiting for the catch. The other shoe to drop.

A tightness spreads across my chest because I know exactly what that feels like. I’ve spent most of my life waiting for the catch. Unable to trust when life is going well. Questioning every act of kindness. Never letting anyone close enough to wreck me.

Then Wren happened.

Somewhere between late-night conversations, hockey games, paint-covered apartments, and watching her slowly start to believe in herself again…

…I fell in love with Gwendolyn Winslow, and for the first time in my life, leaving isn’t what I want.

The realization hits harder than it should.

Ours.

Mine too, but not only mine.Ours.

And maybe the thought of sharing her should bother me, but it doesn’t. It just makes me want to see her surrounded by us. Protected by us. Wanted by us so thoroughly that no one in that room can mistake what she means.

Wren swallows. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re planning something.”

I grin slowly. “I’m always planning something.”

Ronan mutters something, but I ignore him. “Right now, I’m thinking how to show you exactly what you mean to us without ruining your makeup or destroying your dress.”

Her lips part in shock, but I don’t miss the way her eyes darken with need.

Fuck, that’s hot.And totally the wrong thing to say, based on the sudden tightness at the front of my pants.

…Or maybe it was precisely therightthing to say.

Flicking a glance toward Silas and Ronan, I see the same need rolling off them.

My blood heats.

I lean forward and hold out my hand. “Come here.”