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So, I say, "Yes." And then, "All mine."
His smile is quick and bright and breathtaking.
It's enough for me to consider letting him be mine for real, consequences be damned.
"Do you think you'd survive five minutes without your eyes on him?"
I tear said eyes away from Casey - who is currently sitting outside on a blanket with Nolan, the two bundled up in cozy sweaters and giggling over mugs of coffee. My heart hurts the moment I'm no longer looking at him, so my glare is probably extra pissed when I set it on Maison. "You stare at Nolan just as much."
"Extremely accurate." He shrugs, apparently not interested in denying it. "But since the boys who hold our interest are currently together, I thought maybe I'd take advantage of the moment."
"Oh?"
"I've been wanting to talk to you."
"Oh." My stomach drops to my damn feet, my chest suddenly tight. Dr. Singh warned me it was coming sooner than later, but I didn’t let myself think about it. "Yeah. Of course. Okay."
He eyes me before taking a deep breath and turning his body to face the window I've been peering through. It's the one in my office overlooking the river, the front yard, and the main security stall that's hidden between two trees. When his gaze finds Nolan, he seems to relax a bit. Enough to speak, at least. "I'm sorry."
Ah shit. I can't do this.
I look at Casey, hoping to find the same strength Maison found in Nolan. Instead, I think about how I had imagined fucking Casey in order to get off while raping Maison. It feels gross now. Like I violated him without ever even laying a hand on him. I look away from them all, finding the windowsill particularly comforting. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for."
"I chose to be raped. With Carter never being shared with the men, I knew it would push them too far if Trav kept me from them too. But I didn't consider what that would do to Travis or you." He releases a shaky breath. "And when you were doing it, I knew you wanted to stop. You hesitated. And I begged you to keep going. That wasn't fair of me."
My throat feels full of gravel, leaving me unable to swallow. Unable to breathe. When I force words out, I can hear it in my voice. The crackle of gravel. Of grief. "I'm sorry too, Mais. I'm so fucking sorry."
"For what? You saved my ass. Literally and figuratively." He laughs, but it's forced and awful and cracks apart in seconds. His hand wraps around the nape of my neck, squeezing until I look up at him. "You didn't rape me, Jake. I refuse to see it in my head as that. Do you understand me? I get to choose and I say it wasn't rape."
I reach up, grabbing the back of his neck too. He presses our foreheads together. It's crazy, really, that this man is like my brother. We only met in person once, just before the operation kicked off. Then I never saw him until the night I… didn't rape him. But we talked nearly every day. He knew the first time I had to use someone's mouth against their will. The first time I had to rape someone. The first time I killed someone. The first time I watched an innocent die, powerless to help. He was who I leaned on because Travis had enough on his shoulders without me adding weight. Most importantly, I knew that if we ever needed Maison, he'd risk his life to come get us. There's a power to all of that. A bond. So, maybe him being my brother isn't so crazy after all.
"Thank you."
"Thank you, Jake. Not just for that night, but for all of it. For all the sacrifices and all the times you wanted to give up but didn't. For agreeing to buy Carter even though it risked your life. For helping Trav take care of him. For helping save him." He squeezes the back of my neck again. "I owe a great deal to you."
"No." I step back, wanting to be able to see him better. "You're my brother, just like Trav. We don't ever owe each other. It's just what we do."
He smiles. It's crooked, one dimple showing. I'm not sure if I've ever seen him smile before. Not a real one. "Does that mean I can give you shit like he does?"
I raise a brow, but my lips are curving toward a smirk. "I suppose. Something you've been wanting to say?"
"Are you aware that you mumbled under your breath a bit during it?”
I freeze. “Fuck. No. What did I say?”
“You take daddy's cock so good.” He wiggles his eyebrows as I gape at him. "You a daddy, Jake?"
I consider pushing him out the window. It's not far - he might break an arm or something, but he wouldn't die. Unfortunately, it's bulletproof glass, so a hard shove wouldn't be enough. I sigh heavily. "I hate you."
He grins. "Is it just a mild kink, or like a full-on daddy mode thing that you do?"
I roll my eyes and turn toward the door. "Fuck off."
"Follow up question!" he yells, chasing me across the office. "Is Casey your boy?"
My shoulders sag, all humor fading. I stop with my hand on the door and bow my head. He settles behind me, his energy no longer playful. His voice is soft when he says, "It's okay if he is. You know that, right?"
I shake my head, not agreeing with him. But the gravel is back in my throat, making it impossible to explain all the reasons why it's not okay at all. I leave instead. He doesn't stop me.
