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I nod with a frown.
“Keep going, Liv,” Sawyer urges me to continue with a neutral face. “We can fill them in later.”
“I was no longer seeing the therapist. The only people I would see were our house staff, and he had convinced them all I was mentally unwell. I’d probably still be there if our butler hadn’t forgotten his wallet one night and witnessed the most severe beating I’d ever gotten. Tripp came home drunk and with lipstick on his collar. He became enraged when I didn’t care about it.
“There were two things in the panic room with me, a tv and a small mattress. I wasn’t allowed to have a blanket or pillow after the suicide attempt. When he was feeling extra sadistic, he would turn the tv on and force me to watch him sleep with other women. I could close my eyes and not watch, but the volume was always loud enough to still hear, even with my hands over my ears.
“Then he’d come downstairs and force me to have sex with him. After listening to him be with other women. It was humiliating and degrading and disgusting. I don’t know if I’ll ever be whole again.”
A fresh wave of tears and sobs begins, and the next thing I know I’m plucked from the chair and in Nolan’s arms. He sits down on the couch with me in his lap. I cling to him, the sound of his heartbeat in my ear keeping me grounded. I can feel his breathing is shallow; he’s fighting so hard to contain his emotions. I think he needs to hold me as much as I need to be held.
Sawyer slides onto the couch beside us and pulls my feet into his lap. One hand lifts my wrist, the one with the scar, and he brings it to his lips, healing just a tiny bit of my battered heart with a chaste kiss.
They don’t say anything. What can they say to all of what I just laid down for them? I can’t imagine how crazy it sounds. Like some kind of movie about a psycho mastermind criminal or something.
Sawyer’s phone buzzes with a text. He tells us that Lake and Grant are working off their aggression in Lake’s home gym and that they’ll be over in the morning. I’m relaxing into Nolan’s arms, comforted and feeling so blessedly safe. Sawyer turns on an old episode ofFriends, my favorite show. We settle in together, Nolan and Sawyer sitting so close they’re almost on top of each other. I can’t see the tv, but I can hear it, and that’s good enough for me.
They’re each rubbing some part of my body, Sawyer my ankles and feet. Nolan’s fingers are gently stroking the exposed skin of my lower back where my shirt has ridden up. I’m honestly surprised at the tingling warmth I’m feeling from their touch. I didn’t know if I’d ever feel anything remotely close to this again. I worry that Tripp managed to kill the spirit of my sexuality.
After two episodes, my eyes are heavy. Sawyer looks over at me and gives me a small smile and a gentle squeeze on the ankle. “Can I ask you something?” he asks. “Be completely honest, you won’t upset me.” His blue eyes are serious as he looks at me.
“Ask away.”
“Would you feel comfortable sleeping in my room tonight? I’ll sleep on top of the covers, no pressure there. I just can’t stand the thought of you not being right next to me.”
I think about it before I answer. Can I handle that? Tripp never cuddled me, even before everything went to shit, so it’s not like that would trigger thoughts of him. Every touch I’ve felt from the guys has brought me comfort. I trust them like I’ve never been gone.
“I’ll try,” I say to him.
“Can I join the slumber party?” Nolan asks with a slightly teasing tone.
I tilt my head back and look up at him. The thought of being surrounded by these two makes me feel cared for and protected. I look over at Sawyer questioningly, it’s his bed after all.
“It doesn’t bother me a bit,” he confirms.
“Okay,” I say softly, “I’m okay with trying it.”
Sawyer helps me off Nolan’s lap and leads me down the hall to his room. I haven’t been in here yet, and I gasp in surprise when we walk in. Two of the walls are floor-to-ceiling windows giving a beautiful view of the dark city skyline. I walk over to the window and look out at the city I’ve missed for years. I missed the lights and the noise.
I hear Sawyer pull the sheets down for me. He tosses a clean white undershirt to me and gestures to the right. “The bathroom is back there. You can use whatever you want or need to get ready. I’m going to go lock up.”
I watch as Nolan grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls it over his head. He has at least three big tattoos on his chest and abs. I’m transfixed as he unbuttons his jeans and pushes them off. More tattoos cover one of his thighs. I tear my eyes away before he notices, and hurry to the bathroom. I see a spare toothbrush on the counter and use it before splashing cold water on my face. I strip out of my clothes, trying to decide whether to find shorts, but the shirt hits me mid-thigh, longer than some dresses I’m used to. I’ll be okay.
I walk out to find them both chatting, leaning up against the headboard, the low light from a bedside lamp casting a warm glow over the room. I’m relieved at the feeling of appreciation I have for these two men and their beautiful bodies. I know nothing is going to happen, I’m not ready, and I don’t even know if they would think of me like that after all these years and knowing how ruined I am. At least I have those thoughts and desires though, however fleeting.
Sawyer stands so I can slide into the middle. I crawl in and look up at him. When he hesitates, I pat the bed beside me. “I’m okay. I actually feel really safe snuggled between you. When you guys touch me, I feel less disgusting. Like I’m worthy of human affection.”
He gives me a sad look and gets in bed beside me. I turn onto my side, facing Nolan but putting my foot on Sawyer’s leg. “Do you still sing and play guitar and piano?” I ask Nolan.
“Of course.” He turns his head, making eye contact with me. “Why?”
“Will you sing me a song?”
“Anything for you, Livvy.” He scratches his chin while he thinks about what to sing. “Okay, I have the perfect song for you.”
He starts singing, and I immediately know what song it is, ‘Photograph’ by Ed Sheeran. My body relaxes into the mattress as I listen. Sawyer turns to loosely spoon me, asking me if it’s okay, if I’m hurting, as we listen. I fall asleep with Sawyer at my back and Nolan’s fingers linked with mine, his voice quietly filling the room.
6
