I push back against his impulse to blame others for what I’ve done. “I insisted they move north and stick with their plans,” I explain. “Had they stayed…” I trail off, my lip quivering as I wade through dark, lonely memories of the three years I spent on my own. “Had they stayed, the weight of trying to hold them up would have been too much to bear.”
It’s the truth.
I would have fixated on Atty and Ty’s grief, ignoring my own even more than I did.
“I can appreciate that,” he says. “In theory. But you still endured more than anyone should have to deal with in a lifetime.” He cradles my head, his thumbs brushing my cheeks. “You don’t have to do any of it alone anymore. You know that, right?”
Tears blur my vision, then roll down my face. Noah thumbs them away before I can even lift my hand.
“I don’t want to be alone ever again,” I admit.
He pulls me to his chest, weaving one hand through my hair and rubbing the other in circles over my back. “I don’t want that either, honey. You’re mine. I’m yours. You’re here, and I want you to stay.”
I sink into his hold—into the promise that I don’t have to do any of this alone. I trust him. I trust in us. And I trust in the two other men who have fought like hell to carve out their place by my side.
We’re in this together. All of us.
Relief and even a hint of joy warm me from the inside as I hug Noah tight, confident he’ll never let me go.
We’re silent, soaking one another in when a soft buzzing cuts through the comfortable silence.
With a scowl, Noah releases me and fishes his phone out of his pocket.
He frowns down at the device, then looks at me, concern etched into his features. “It’s my buddy Joe who works for the city,” he says. “I texted him earlier, asking for updates. I need to take this.”
Nodding, I slide off the counter. Then I quickly retrieve my pants and slip into them. “I’m going to head back to the house.”
Noah nods, his focus still fixed on the phone. “Be careful on the steps. I’ll lock up and be in soon.”
Chapter thirty-nine
Sawyer
Ifind Mercer sitting on the floor in the living room, a large book open in his lap and Shiloh lounging on the couch behind him. Each of the three texts on the rug surrounding him is open as well.
When he hears me, he looks up, zeroing in on me from behind the lenses of his glasses. The sight of him like this makes affection bubble up inside me.
“What are you reading?” I peel off the oversized coat Noah insisted I wear and hang it behind the door.
He brings one finger to his lips, shushing me. “Tytus is asleep.”
I close the space between us and join him on the floor, folding my legs under me and resting my head on his shoulder.
Humming, he tilts my way, kissing my hair. “You and Noah talked?”
I resist the urge to push his books aside and crawl into his lap. A visceral hum of need has already whirred to life. It happens every time I’m close to this man, and right now, my body and my brain are anxious to make up for the time we’ve been apart.
Tilting my head, I peek up at him. “We talked.”
He studies me, his gaze narrowing. “And you fucked.”
I lick my lips, cocking one brow. “Excellent deductive reasoning skills, professor.”
A grin blooms on his face. “I’m glad you got some time together. Jealous to be excluded, of course, but still glad.” He kisses the top of my head once more. “Where is—”
Noah bursts into the house, cutting Mercer off.
A flurry of snowflakes flies into the foyer as he crosses the threshold. He closes the door behind him and makes quick work of his boots and jacket as he looks around, concern rolling off him in waves.
