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Oliver squeezes my knee. “We can go as many times as you’d like, princess.”
I smile. “Again, then.”
For the rest of the afternoon, they coach me on every little thing I do that could indicate I’m lying. Even when I make the same mistakes over and over again, they never show an ounce of annoyance. I appreciate it—knowing I’m not irritating them makes it easier for me to concentrate.
By the time the guys finally deem one of my lies believable, my stomach is growling. Not only am I hungry, but I’mexhausted.Who knew learning to lie would take so much energy?
“I’ll throw some lasagna in the oven.” Elliot stands from his spot on the couch and stretches. “You did a fantastic job, love. We’ll do this a couple more times with different questions, and by then, I think you’ll be ready to go. For this, anyway.”
That’s a relief.Over the past twenty-four hours, Elliot has come around to the idea of me breaking into the safe. I can’t fault him for his original stance. Our very first weekend together, this is exactly why he didn’t want to start anything serious with me.
The thing is, at this point, I’m in deep enough that there’s no escaping the potential danger that comes along with being with them. Elliot—all three of them, really—want to be able to protect me, but they need to be able to take risks. And no matter how much we all wish I was, I’m not immune to the consequences of their actions.
“I’ll help with dinner,” I say as Elliot makes his way out of the living room.
Oliver catches my wrist as I walk past. “You did well, princess. I’m proud of how far you got today.”
Rhett nods in agreement, and warmth floods my veins. They’re never shy with their praise, but that doesn’t make it mean any less.
“Thank you.” I lean down and kiss Rhett’s cheek.
Over the past few days, I’ve caught him watching me with concern written all over his face multiple times. I think he’s worried that I’ll come to my senses at some point and realize Iamafraid of him, but that’s not going to happen. I trust him.
In the kitchen, Elliot is pulling an aluminum pan out of the refrigerator. “Gotta make more,” he mutters to himself. He mentioned that they like to meal prep for when they get bogged down with work, so I bet this is the remainder of their last batch.
“Need help?” I ask.
“I think I’m good. Although I suppose we should have some vegetables. Or, like, a salad.”
I open the fridge, but I’m greeted by mostly bare shelves. “Um . . .”
He groans. “There’s not much in there, huh?”
“Not really.” I shut the fridge doors.
“I meant to go to the grocery store this morning,” Elliot says on a sigh. “But then I overslept, and then I was working, and . . . well, here we are. Fuck, and we’re behind on laundry, too. And just about every chore you could think of.”
“Not all of them,” I say. “I saw Oliver with the vacuum this morning.”
“Yeah, but that’s for—” He cuts himself off. “I guess that counts.”
“And we have some time before the oven preheats, so why don’t you and I start a load of laundry.” Taking his hand, I tug him into the pantry, which leads into the laundry room.
Oh, wow.He wasn’t exaggerating. There are piles of dirty clothes everywhere. At the sight, Elliot lets out a distressed sound.
“We’re normally really good at keeping up with chores and stuff,” he says as we gather up a load and throw it in the washer. “The past month has just been . . .”
“Hell,” I finish for him softly as he tosses a detergent pod in with the clothes.
“Not all of it. Some of it’s been damn near perfect. But the rest of it? I don’t even know what day it is anymore.” Elliot closes the door and presses a couple buttons.
“All I know is that today’s Sunday. And that’s only because I got a text from my boss this morning asking if I could come back and work my normal hours starting tomorrow.”
Elliot freezes with his finger hovering over the start button. “What did you say?”
“Haven’t responded yet. Obviously I can’t go back to work next week. We have too much going on. But I’m not sure how long she’ll let me take off before she replaces me permanently.”
“How do you feel about that?” His gaze is fixed on the button. “About being replaced permanently, that is.”
