“So, what should I do?”
The two women shared a long look I couldn’t read. Then they both nodded as if they’d actually said something, though the conversation was completely silent.
Women were curious creatures.
“Juno needs to know you won’t leave when things get hard or mundane. That you want her for who she is, computer-geek side and all.”
Brows pulled in tight, I studied Baylee like the words she’d just spoken were a puzzle and I needed to decipher the meaning. “Wait, how do you know that? Did she say she thinks I’ll walk away from her if things get hard?”
Both women just shook their heads while smiling.
I frowned. “Okay, I’m confused. How do you know that’s what she needs from us?”
“Because that’s what all women want—to feel safe. To be free to be yourself and know the person you’re trusting with the real you won’t leave.”
A skeptical scoff escaped as I crossed my arms, eyeing the two women doubtfully. “How can someone not feel safe surrounded by all of us here? We’re more protective of the family we’ve built than a damn mama grizzly bear, and with all the guns, maybe more deadly.”
Baylee’s lips split in a wide grin while Aspen just bit her lower lip, attempting to smother hers.
“You’re such a guy.” Aspen laughed.
“I don’t understand that response,” I drawled. “How does me having a dick change how someone feels safe?”
“Everything,” both women said around a laugh.
I rubbed a hand over my head, wishing like hell I could tug on the long strands that were now gone. “Women are confusing.”
“Men are too literal and focus only on the physical aspect of safety,” Aspen explained. “There’s a difference between feeling emotionally protected and physically. Emotionally safe is knowing you can fall apart, release all your deepest fears and worries and the whole damn mental load that weighs you down daily, and know your guy will hold you, love you, and support you. Not fix it but ease your worries and just be there.”
My attention slid to Juno’s place. “And how do I do all that?”
“That’s for you to figure out, West. There isn’t a manual that you can read and know how to fix it all.”
Well, fuck.That was how my brain worked. If something was broken, I studied it and then figured out how to fix it.
Guess I’d just have to wing this plan of getting me, Juno, and Langston together based on that little bit of insight.
I just hoped I didn’t mess it up.
4
JUNO
Sweat slicked my palms, causing the controller to slip in my tightening grasp as the fight escalated. My fingers shifted, adjusting the movements of my avatar on the screen as I fought for our lives. Well, not exactly hers, since she was computer-generated, and I guess not technically mine either, but the anticipation and excitement were real. My heart hammered in my chest as if I were the one wielding the magic toward my opponent while darting around thick trees and leaping behind jagged boulders to evade the asshole hell-bent on taking me out.
“Not today, motherfucker. I need this win after running intohim,” I grumbled.
Without taking my focus off the flashing screen, I peeled one hand off the controller, blindly searching for the large metal bowl filled with popcorn and M&M’s sitting somewhere beside me on the couch.
Munching on the perfectly popped kernels, savoring the mix of salty and sweet, I recalled the earlier meeting. I wasn’t actually upset from the encounter with Captain Asshole and hissweet, adorable best friend West, more confused, which was why I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I’d hoped that playing my favorite online game would help distract me, but somehow it didn’t. There was that intense stare-off that felt like he was looking directly into my soul and excavating all my secrets, and then there was that super-random comment about what should happen to a man who yelled at a woman. It was all slightly concerning.
Concerning because I liked it—really liked it, to the point that his aggressive show of legit masculine protectiveness, not the toxic shit spewed to men nowadays, made me so wet I thought I’d peed myself. I legit checked my boy shorts when I got home to make sure I didn’t.
Also concerning because, well, I was raised by and dated men who 100 percent did not agree with Langston on that point. Or maybe it was just my headstrong personality that made men feel the need to raise their voice and get in my face on several occasions to get their viewpoint across.
At least that was the lame excuse they used for screaming at me until I gave in or faked understanding where they were coming from. I was a stubborn child, knew what I wanted and had my own opinions on things, but somewhere along the way while growing up with my asshole stepfather, I allowed him and others to shrink me. I either became less so they could be more, or, at the very basic level, I realized if I was quiet and didn’t have my own opposing opinion, then things ran smoothly. Everyone was happy.
I figured if my shrinking made everyone around me better off, then it was worth it, right?
