Noah’s barely had his back to us for a full second before Ty scoots closer, capturing my hand and ducking close. “This is really what you want?”
With the uncertainty bleeding from him, I’m tempted to lie. But that isn’t fair to any of us. The last twenty-four hours have been powered by radical truths, and we’ve already come so far. I won’t downplay my hope for what we could become.
I take both of his hands in mine, caressing his knuckles with my thumbs. I’ve dreamed of being held by these hands for years. We’re here now, standing on the precipice of something beautiful, albeit unconventional. Hope flickers in the deepest depths of my soul.
Eyes locked with his, I hold steady. “Some version of this, yes. I know it’s a lot. If I’m asking too much—”
He grips my hands tighter. “Nothing you ask for would be too much, baby. I told you I’d try.” Softer, he adds, “I’m just trying to wrap my head around all this, ya know?”
He blows out a long breath, regarding me with a steely expression.
“I’m in,” he finally says, zeroing in on Mercer and Noah. “I’m up for whatever. At least I think I am.” He clears his throat, sitting up to full height.
“Most excellent,” Mercer murmurs, rubbing his hands together.
Noah elbows him in the side.
Tentatively, Tytus pulls his hands out of mine and cracks his knuckles under the table.
My chest tightens as I watch him. He’s nervous. But he’s still willing to try.
He looks at me, his dark irises suddenly blazing with heat, he’s mentally undressing me. Then he turns back to the others.
“I’ll sit out if I get to call the shots. But I only want Noah and Sawyer together.”
Mercer snickers, a glint of mischief dancing behind his eyes. “Even better.” He heads out of the kitchen toward his room. Halfway down the hall, he calls back, “Noah, make sure Shiloh is settled so we don’t traumatize her, then lock up. Everyone meet in the living room in twenty minutes. Carpe diem. Or in this instance, carpe membrum virile.”
Chapter forty-one
Tytus
Years of morning skates and living in fear that my dad wasn’t sober enough to drive to practice means I’m always punctual. More than that, really. I’m usually early.
In this instance, it does me no good. Because it means I’m the first person in the living room, pent up and anxious as fuck as I wait for the others to join me.
Noah saunters in next and stands near where I’m hovering near the fireplace.
He’s built a massive fire and has kept it burning steadily all afternoon. The room is warm because of it. It’s almost too warm for my liking, but I want Sawyer to be comfortable.
He reaches out like he’s going to slap me on the back or grip my shoulder but pulls back at the last second and lets his arm fall to his side.
“Listen.” He shoves both hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and rocks back on his heels. “You don’t have to do any of this if you’re uncomfortable. And if we start and it’s all too much, we can stop at any time.”
“I said I’d try,” I clap back, hackles rising.
Instead of taking the bait or antagonizing me like Mercer might, Noah doubles down with kindness.
“I’m on your side. I’ll be focused on Sawyer, obviously, but say the word, and I’ll stop.”
I believe him. In fact, I think I trust him. But that realization doesn’t stop me from challenging him.
“You’d stop fucking her just because I said so?”
“I would.” His gray-blue eyes stay fixed on me, the sincerity of his words supported by his earnest expression.
“That’s a hell of a lot of power to give to a kid you barely know,” I quip.
Sawyer enters the room then, her eyes lighting up when she sees us, and sashays over, wrapping her arms around my waist.
