Shame.
I wasn’t thrilled about the animal-urine stench wafting off me, but there wasn’t that added icky feeling of shame tagging along with it. Odd. Almost as if I was okay that I wasn’t perfect because West didn’t expect me to be.
“What are you thinking so hard about?” He tapped between my brows.
“That maybe, with someone like you, like Langston, I don’t have to hold myself to a crazy-high standard that I could never meet. That when I make a mistake or smell like garbage, it’s not the end of the world.”
Now it was his turn for a deep line to form between his dark brows. “I’m understanding just how deep the emotional abuse went with that dipshit. We’ll expose the lies he made you believe about relationships and a true partnership little by little. That’s for us to figure out together—us three—not just on you to undo alone. You will need to be upfront and honest with us as we work through it together, though.”
“As friends,” I added slowly. “That’s all I’ll ever be good for, West. I know myself, and I know what I can offer. I don’t want to disappoint you and Langston?—”
The stomping of boots on the hardwood floor cut me off.
“Run,” West whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “Save your ass. Literally, Juno.”
With a squeak of surprise mixed with excited thrill, I turned on my heels and bolted for the front door. Grappling with the handle, I yanked the heavy wood door open and dashed down the front porch steps, not stopping until I was standing in the middle of the main road.
Chest heaving with every heavy breath, a wide smile spread at finding Langston in the middle of the doorway, tatted arms crossed over his chest, looking sexy as hell and making me question running from him.
“Your time will come, shortcake. You can’t hide from my palm forever.” He started to turn but paused. “We’ll come by around seven for our date.” The last word was emphasized with a smirk.
Before I could correct the misused term for tonight’s meeting, Langston retreated into the cabin and slammed the door shut.
Shaking my head at his stubborn ass, I started walking home, mind racing with a thousand thoughts a second.
Why was I hell-bent on pushing them away? I warned them I wasn’t what anyone wanted in a girlfriend, so why keep forcing the issue? Granted, I could just let everything play out between us until they truly understood how broken I was and they dropped me like a bad habit. I was absolutely certain that would happen at some point.
There was a seed of worry that kept me from going all in and enjoying the attention from the two men—that I wouldn’tsurvive them leaving, solidifying the fact that I’d never be enough for someone to truly love.
14
LANGSTON
Hands dangling at my sides, I flexed my fingers, attempting to ease the ache in the stiff joints as we walked to Juno’s cabin to pick her up for the “not a date” date. West tracked the movement with his brow furrowed.
A chuff puffed past my lips. The man was almost as observant as me. I was only slightly more from the two tours I served in the Army, needing to tune those observation skills to stay alive. Plus, during Mattie’s teen years, I monitored everything to ensure she was safe and taken care of at all times—which of course, like any teenage girl, she hated.
She thought I was overprotective for no reason, but she didn’t know, nor would she ever, about all the “talks” I had with boys from her school to make sure she was respected. Mattie just assumed they were good guys and I expected the worst in everyone.
“Shouldn’t it be your forearm and wrist that are sore?” West teased, but it was a cover for his concern about the old injury he of course knew about. “Unless your grip is so tight around your dick that your fingers are sore too.”
“Funny, I’ve never heard complaints about my grip from you.” I shot him a smirk only for it to slip, my thoughts circling back to the pain in my fingers. “If she finds out, or I ever tell her, do you think Juno would care about my hand, the story behind how I broke it?”
West rolled his eyes, as if I was being ridiculous. “Find out that you shattered your hand while beating a man almost to death when you were twelve and it didn’t heal correctly?”
“You know what I mean,” I grumbled. But yeah, exactly that.
“I don’t think she’s the type to shy away from overprotective-asshole gestures.” At the next flex of my fingers, I only straightened the middle one and pointed it at him. “But it’s something you might want to talk with her about,” he continued, ignoring me. “If we want this to work, then we should be up-front about everything from the start. I don’t want to give her any reason to think we’re anything like her ex.”
I’d shoot myself in the fucking balls as punishment and ensure I never reproduced if I was anything like—or was even adjacently compared to—that manipulating jackass.
“We need to make sure she doesn’t feel like she’s stepping between us. Let her know we’re nottogether, together. She knows we do our thing, whatever that is, but I don’t want her to think she’s a third wheel. Does that make sense?” he asked.
I paused at the steps that led to her small front porch. “Do you think she’ll be okay with us, with what we do, as long as she’s involved?” A lead weight settled in my stomach thinking about having to choose between the two of them.
West just shrugged. “No fucking clue.”
“Good to know I’m not the only one feeling clueless in all this,” I grumbled as I leapt up the stairs, boots slamming to the top, making the entire porch shake. After pounding on the door, I took a large step back to not crowd her when she opened it.
