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“I’m sorry I’ve been giving you guys the cold shoulder,” I mutter, feeling ashamed of how I’ve been acting.
“Everyone grieves differently. There is nothing wrong with needing some space after losing someone you love.”
“But the thing is, I lost my mom years ago. Mason and I already went through the grieving process together. Or maybe only Mason did, and I was still holding on. I wanted so badly for her to be that person again. It blinded me. I just wanted my mom back.” My voice cracks at the end, a wave of heavy emotions crashes into me, and I immediately try to shove those feelings down. Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a calming breath, willing those ugly thoughts away.
“Don’t do that,” Griffin orders. “Don’t fight letting yourself feel. You’ll only make it worse if you bottle it all up. There will come a time the bottle can’t hold any more and bursts into a thousand pieces.”
“I hate to say it,” Dallas’s voice suddenly comes from the doorway, “but Griffin is right. You need to stop bottling everything up and let it out. Even if it sucks, you’ll feel better after.”
I look up to find Dallas walking into my bedroom. He’s wearing black shorts and a white shirt, which is basically see-through now that he’s so sweaty. His muscles are bulging, flexing with each step he takes.
“Did you just say I’m right?” Griffin asks before joking, “Let me get the calendar to document this day.”
For the first time in a while, a tiny smile tugs on my lips. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of their banter.
Dallas pauses at the foot of the bed. He looks at us cuddling and something I can’t quite put my finger on washes over his face. He sighs deeply. “I’ll give you two some space.”
He is about to turn around when I stop him. “Wait, please don’t go! Lie with us.”
He pauses again, as if he is searching carefully for the right words. “I don’t know. I think you need Griffin more than me right now.” There is a note of sadness in his voice, and I hate hearing it. I hate I made him feel like I don’t want him.
I sit up straight. “Why would you say that? I need both of you; if you haven’t noticed yet.”
“You don’t. What you need is a healthy relationship, not some weird love triangle that’s going to confuse you even more. You’re grieving, and you need?—”
“Stop telling me what I need. I know exactly what I want—both of you. I knew it before my mom’s death, and I definitely know it now. Don’t make me choose and please don’t leave.” I am a little shocked by the desperation in my voice, but I’m not ashamed either.
“All right, I won’t leave,” Dallas promises. “But I will go shower before I lie down with you.”
He spins around and the three little words I’ve been thinking about pop into my head. I love you. I almost say it out loud. Part of me wants to scream it, but there is something holding me back. Some part of me is still scared. Scared that he won’t say it back and is still gonna leave. And when he does, he’s going to take part of me with him.
25
GRIFFIN
Ihate to leave her like this. You’d think I wouldn’t bother with guilt, considering how little it’s ever bothered her to leave me and Dallas in the middle of the night. But we weren’t wrestling demons like the ones who still sometimes wake her from a sound sleep so she can tremble and cry quietly, as if she could hide it. Like we aren’t both aware of every move she makes nowadays.
The meeting Mason called is scheduled to take place in ten minutes. Nat’s breathing slowly, evenly, and has been for at least half an hour. I’m confident she’s out for the night, or at least for a few hours. Long enough for us to go up to the conference room and return without her ever knowing we were gone.
We take our clothes out to the living room and dress quickly, neither of us saying a word until we’re on the elevator. The closing of the elevator doors unlocks a question I’ve been dying to ask since before Dallas joined us in bed earlier. “What do you think about all of that? The things she said about wanting to be with us.”
He pauses for a long time before saying a word. All I can do is remember how disappointed he looked when he found us together. There was a while where I figured he cared more about our rivalry than he did about her. I’m starting to think otherwise. Only a man who genuinely cares about somebody looks that disappointed, but acts like they’re ready to step aside. If she had what she wanted, he was ready to let her have it without putting up a fight.
