For a heartbeat, all four of us just… freeze. Western showdown, but with hearts on the line.
Silas moves first.
He crosses the room with that determined, cut-through-traffic stride of his and pulls out the chair across from me. Liam takes the one to his left. Felix drops into the one to his right.
For a moment, no one talks. Liam stares at the table like it might start conducting the meeting itself.
“So,” Silas says finally, drumming his fingers once. “This is awkward as hell.”
A startled laugh escapes me. “Yeah. That tracks.”
“Should we order before we dive into… everything?” Felix asks, glancing toward the counter. “Or are we raw-dogging this convo?”
“Felix,” Liam mutters, but there’s the faintest thread of fondness in it.
The waitress appears like she’s been waiting for her cue. “Hey, guys. Usuals?”
“Yeah, thanks, Em,” Felix says, some of his normal warmth flickering back. “Honey lavender latte.”
“Triple-shot Americano,” Silas adds.
“Earl Grey, please,” Liam says.
Emma looks at me, friendly. “What would you like?”
“Cappuccino please. Oat milk, extra shot,” I say.
She nods and disappears, leaving us with our mutual discomfort.
I clear my throat. Let's try to at least be professional and talk about the game. “Thank you for coming. I appreciate you making the time.”
“Obviously, beyond the game, we need to discuss what happened in the chalet,” Silas says, mercifully direct.
“I figured,” I echo, my fingers tightening around my cup.
Liam’s hand taps once against the table, then stills. “Can I start?”
I nod.
He folds his hands. “I’ve been digging into scent compatibility studies.”
My shoulders tense despite myself.
“Scent matches are rare and considered the love ideal,” he continues. “Everybody knows that. But what many people don't know is that there are documented cases of people mistaking high scent compatibility for an actual match, because they're so desperate to find their scent match."
My brows knit. Felix leans in. “Translation: we talked the hell out of this.” His mouth twists. “We weren’t lying when we said we were in love with our ex. We were. Her scent knocked us on our asses. But what happened with you—” he gestures between us, “—it makes that feel like a candle next to a forest fire.”
Silas huffs a humorless breath. “And even ‘forest fire’ doesn’t quite cover it.” His jaw works. “Your scent hits at… I don’t even know, five times the strength? Ten? Our nervous system went berserk."
Heat crawls up my neck. "You know, I noticed that too. I thought my ex was my true scent match. I was convinced. Everyone was." My throat tightens. "But what I feel with you three is... so much more intense. And I thought what I had with him was already..." I swallow. "I was pretty gone for him back then."
Something loosens around their shoulders when I say "so much more intense", but then they go a little stiff when I mention how smitten I’d been with my ex.
Are they… jealous? Actually jealous of someone I dated over a decade ago? I wonder how they would react without the descenter…
Silas exhales hard through his nose. “So, yeah. That brings us to now.” He spreads his hands slightly. “This thing between us is… special. And we have absolutely no idea how to navigate it.”
Emma swoops back in with a tray, oblivious to the emotional minefield she’s interrupting. “Triple-shot Americano, honey lavender latte, Earl Grey, and oat cappuccino.” She distributes drinks with a flourish. “Holler if you need anything else.”
