Keep it moving.
My inner voice blares the warning, but all I want to do is hit mute. If I had died in that coyote shifter attack last week, no one on this planet would have known or cared. Isolation once meant peace and safety to me. I'm not so sure now.
Flopping onto my back, I touch my lips. Callum kissed me like he would care if something bad happened to me. Sprawled on that counter, I felt like a queen on a throne, experiencing the rush of chasing after something I want.
Then, there’s Gideon. The way I gravitate toward him... It’s like my body needs his to function. I thought he felt the same way. Though he kissed the breath out of me when they got home, he also left me alone in the kitchen with an incubus demon.Shouldn’t he be jealous?
My body doesn’t care either way. It wants them both.
I yank the covers over my face, sinking into the homemade cocoon and letting it quiet some of the extraneous noise. It’s a childish habit, but burrowing under covers is something I’ve always done when I need to think. Why am I so rattled, anyway?I’ve had a few one-night stands over the years, but none of them did much for me. In fact, my mostly dressed moments with Callum and Gideon were steamier than anything I've experienced naked.
Ugh. This isn’t working.
When the heat under the covers becomes unbearable, I throw them back with a huff. Maybe I'm not a virgin, but my body is pulling me toward something I’m not sure I’m ready for. Now would be a great time to have a friend to talk things through with, but I'm an island—forever destined to have my own back—and also melodramatic as hell apparently.
Glancing over at my nightstand, the shiny new phone pulls me in. I caved and let the guys buy it for me. Being stuck here with no idea what was going on sent me into a doom spiral I don’t want to repeat.
It's a concession I made only after they agreed to let me pay them back. Callum sourly accepted one hundred dollars from my dwindling supply of cash as a down payment. He didn’t argue, but he did glare at the money like it offended him. Gideon just stormed out of the room without a word. I plan to keep a close eye on my bag to make sure the money doesn't mysteriously reappear.
Looking at the new phone gives me an insane idea. I jump up, digging through the pockets of my discarded shorts for the scrap of paper Ciprian gave me. Before I can question my sanity any further, I enter the numbers and press the green button. A suspicious voice answers after two rings.
“Who is this?”
“You said to call if I needed help.”This was a terrible idea.
“Sheena?” Ciprian seems surprised to hear from me. I don't blame him. This is definitely not what he meant when he made that offer.
“Yeah...”Why did I do this? I should hang up.
“What's wrong? Is someone hurt?” He's completely focused now, and I feel like an idiot.If I hang up now, he’ll call Callum or Gideon.
“No, everyone's okay,” I sputter. “There's nothing really wrong... I just need a sounding board and you're the only person I could think of.”
I’m mortified, but he just chuckles drily.
“My condolences on that, babe. I'll do my best. What's going on?”
Fuck it.
“Have you ever liked two people?” The question tumbles out of my mouth and I cringe, relieved that at least he can’t see me. If I’m lucky, maybe he didn’t even hear?—
His scoff erases that hope.
“You sound like a kid with a crush. Do you mean, ‘have I ever wanted to fuck two people?’”
Jesus Christ.The question is crass and blunt. I cover my face with my hand, and the silence stretches out uncomfortably until Ciprian groans.
“Look, if you can't even say the word ‘fuck’—you're not ready to fuck Gideon, much less my brother. You're also going to get a bill for any therapy I need if this friendship involves disturbing conversations about my only sibling.”
I roll my eyes, forgetting he can’t see me.
“Quit being so dramatic. You're not helping at all. Just tell me—am I a slut for wanting them both?” I ask. A snort follows my question.
“First, no woman is a slut for going after what she wants while communicating honestly. Second, have they asked you to choose?”
What’s he getting at?
“Well, no. We haven’t really talked about it.” I pause, trying to figure out how to word things without traumatizing him. “I’ve had... moments with them. Separately and together,” I explain.
