As I lean down to rummage through my bag for clothes, Nash’s hands are suddenly on my hips, pulling me back onto his lap, where he’s now sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Fuck, you walking in here like that, and I didn’t even appreciate it.” He latches onto my neck, sucking lightly and nibbling, my head falling back on a soft moan, goose bumps spreading all over my body.
“Looks like Spider-Man is my new favorite superhero too,” Saylor jests from my other side, kissing my shoulder, and thetingles that spread mix with my pebbled skin, making me squirm between them.
Fuck, this is amazing.
Nash’s arms wrap around me, and he leans in for a passionate kiss while Saylor still kisses my shoulder up and down. I press my thighs together to avoid dripping on Nash’s jeans. I feel his fingers hook into the towel over my chest, tugging it down slowly. But I stop him, whispering against his lips, “Saylor’s here.”
I want this. Fuck, I want both of them so bad, but not if one of them doesn’t know that there are three people in this room right now. Nash pauses, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. He glances around the room to find Saylor, who’s trying to hide a smirk, then back at me. Nash’s grip loosens slightly, but the warmth in his eyes doesn’t fade.
“Hunter said you’re with him too?” Nash asks, but there is only curiosity, no accusation, which calms my racing heart a little.
“I am.” I smile at Saylor, who gives me a small smile back, but there is something in his eyes I can’t quite place. Looking back at Nash, I say, “It’s all of you. Are you okay with that?”
“Ishe?” Nash asks back, insecurity shining in his eyes, and his hand on my thigh trembles slightly.
“Why wouldn’t he be?” I ask. Of course, there are a lot of reasons why, but it sounds like Nash has something specific in mind.
“Maybe because he pretty much made me responsible for every little thing that went bad in his life for the past seven years and was very vocal about it when he still thought I couldn’t hear it,” Saylor shares in a neutral tone.
“What?” I ask, surprised.
“What did he say?” Nash asks, and when I turn to look at him, it seems like all his confidence left him on a breath.
I think about whether I should share what Saylor just said, but these two seem to need to resolve something standing between them.
And I promised Saylor to be his voice now.
Knowing now that there is some tension between the brothers, all of Saylor’s hurt and jealousy pointed at Nash but never at Hunter makes much more sense. “He said you made him responsible for everything that went bad the last few years,” I share, and Nash nods, looking at the floor.
“So hedidhear me,” he murmurs.
“Oh, I so heard you, bro, and let me tell you, you’re a fucking dick too,” Saylor tells him, his hands formed into fists.
Do I relay this word for word?
Fuck it. They’re brothers. They talk like that, right?
“He said he heard you and that you’re a fucking dick too,” I relay, my voice soft, trying to at least change the tone a bit, but Nash laughs out loud.
“You’re the dick for leaving me alone in all that. What am I a dick for?” Nash asks, but there is a touch of lightness back into his posture.
“You’re a dick because you don’t fucking appreciate what you have. Being jealous of me? Really?” Saylor glares at him.
“For being jealous of him,” I tell Nash, and his smile slips off his face.
“I can’t change that I wish I’d been there that day too,” Nash confesses, almost to himself. His voice carries a mix of envy and regret.
Saylor bristles at Nash’s words. “You wish you were there?” he exclaims, his voice tinged with bitterness. “You’re the lucky one, Nash. You didn’t have to go through what we did. It was fucking horrific.”
I feel a lump in my throat. Saylor is right, of course, but Nash has a valid reason to feel left out.
I tell Nash what Saylor just said, and Nash’s expression darkens, his jaw clenching. “You don’t get it, Say. Since that day, since you’ve been… gone, it’s like I’ve been cut off. You were the link that held us together. Now, I’m just running after a bond I can never be part of.”
Saylor’s frustration and pain echo through me as I tell Nash word for word. “You think my life is something to be jealous of? I’m stuck here, Nash. You’re living, breathing. Don’t you see? You have the chance to live, and I’m a fucking potato.”
Fuck, I didn’t know Saylor thought that harshly about himself. I need to change that.
