Sloane chose him. Sloane is living in his house. Sloane knows him better.
I’m simply here because of some cosmic fate, and it brings up so many of my insecurities.
It doesn’t help that he’s been so difficult to get along with, even if he’s being moderately pleasant right now. We still haven’tdiscussed why he doesn’t like me or why he has such negative feelings about me in general.
So we’re all just going to ignore this underlying tension as we eat our fried rice and noodles.
Sloane wants us all to get along, so we’ll fake it till we make it. Or at least, that was my intention. Until the permeating stench of Bram makes me open my stupid mouth.
“So how are we going to do this? Are you going to stay at my house sometimes?” I ask.
“No,” Bram replies sharply, and I glare in his direction.
“You’re being unreasonable. Do you really expect me to only come here when I want to see my scent match?” I’m a dick for throwing out the scent match card, but I really don’t give a shit.
“It’s her house now too. You can get over it,” Bram says.
“Like you’ve gotten over whatever issue it is you have of me. An issue I don’t even fucking remember, and you won’t even talk about it.”
“It’s in the past.”
“It’s clearly not. God, I can’t even think in this fucking house. It smells like you.”
Sloane bites her lip.
“Do you need to get some fresh air?”
“I’m sorry. I just… How? Sloane. How do we work when he’s hoarding you like he’s the only one to have a claim on you? I want to get to know you better, but how do I do that when this house smells like him and I don’t feel welcomed? We’re both on the same travel schedule, so it’s not even like dividing time is easy either.”
I’m shocked when Bram opens his mouth.
“We can go to pack therapy?”
“What?” Ethan says before anyone else has a moment to.
“Pack therapy,” Bram says simply like we’re the idiots here.
“You’d do that for me?” Sloane asks.
All three of us give resounding yeses.
“I’ll look for a therapist with openings around your schedule. I’m also going to do my best to make sure everyone feels like they have even time. I don’t ever want any of you to feel you’re getting less attention. We can make this work.”
We eat the rest of our food in silence, and I wonder if therapy can really fix this fucked-up pack.
CHAPTER 33
Learning to live with people is much harder than I thought it would be. It’s even more difficult when two of my boyfriends can’t seem to get along.
Don’t get me wrong, they aren’t fighting, which is progress, but there’s still this constant tension between the two of them.
I’ve been researching therapists when I get a little curious and start looking at the Finnegan the Fox subreddit—which is a serious mistake.
r/hockeysluths
Foxy Lady
What the hell is going on in New Haven?
