I wrinkle my nose. “No.”
He waits. A couple beats pass. “Then… what are you waiting for?”
“For you to offer to warm me up, dumbass.”
“Oh.” He pauses, then tentatively opens his arms. I climb into them, nestling against his chest. I can hear his heart thumping against my ear. “I thought—”
“I’m still mad at you,” I warn him. “But I can be mad and hug you at the same time.”
“Okay.” He sounds kind of dazed. I burrow my face in him, trying to breathe evenly. We’re quiet for a while. Car engines hum in the streets below, and I hear some drunken shouts spiralling through the night. A light breeze touches my hair. Police sirens wail past, and I start to cry again. He tugs me closer.
“I’m sorry,” he roughs out. “Briar, I’m so sorry. None of this would’ve happened if I’d just been honest with you.”
I clutch my fist in his shirt. “What hurt me most was that you thought so little of me. That you thought I was spoiled and selfish andstupidenough to put other people’s lives in danger, j-just to get back at this guy. I really thought you knew me. That you respected me.”
He frowns. “I don’t think little of you. I was just so scared. So, so scared of losing you. When you’re leading a team, you’re responsible for their lives. And sometimes—you pick wrong.” I hear him swallow. “I tried to play it safe, but it backfired, and I’m sorry. I needed you alive, and in my head, keeping you in the dark was the best possible way of doing that.” He sighs. “I underestimated you.”
“You did. And bombs went off because of it.Iput people in danger, becauseyoudidn’t give me the full picture. People were injured because ofme,Matt. I know you know how that feels. Why the Hell would you make me do that?”
He flinches. “I… I’ve lost people before. Friends. Brothers. I’ve seen them die in front of me. And every goddamn time, I feel a bit of myself die with them. I take their wedding rings home to their wives and look at their babies who don’t have a dad anymore, and I feel a piece more dead than I did before. But I’ve never…” He shakes his head. “Abitof me wouldn’t have died, if you went. I just wouldn’t exist anymore. I’d—I’d be done. It would all just go dark. I wouldn’t come back from it.”
“Mm.” I run a finger up the front of his shirt. “I love you, too.”
His breath hitches in his chest. He goes very still around me, apart from the one hand stroking soothingly up and down my back. I nuzzle into him, feeling the choking knot of strong emotions in my chest slowly loosen and unravel. I’m almost asleep when I feel something warm drip into my hair. “I—are youcrying?”
I try to look up and peer at his face, but he just clasps me tighter to him. His chest shudders against me. Another tear splashes onto my cheek.
Behind us, the door to the balcony cracks open, and the others step out.
“Is she sleeping?” Kenta asks. I shake my head, but before I can speak, Matt starts to talk.
“I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I messed up. I’m sofuckingsorry.”
I know from the tone of his voice that he’s not talking about what happened tonight. I try to wiggle away, to give the men better access to each other, but Matt grabs at me like a comfort blanket, dragging me back onto his lap.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” Kenta says, his face calm. “You know that.”
“Never blamed ye,” Glen mutters thickly, coming to stand by my side. “We’d both have done the same. You were just following orders.” His hand drops to my face, and he cups my cheek with calloused fingers. I tip into the touch.
“I know you don’t blame me,” Matt protests, “but—”
Kenta puts a hand on his shoulder. “Let it go,” he says gently. “It’s time.”
Matt nods jerkily.
I smile up at him. “Does this mean you’ll finally go to therapy?”
He laughs shakily, nodding. “I didn’t want…” The words catch in his throat. I suddenly understand.
“You didn’t want to forget what happened. You wanted to punish yourself with the nightmares and the flashbacks.”
His throat bobs as he swallows. Glen gives him an awkward slap on the back, and I roll my eyes. These men have gone through Hell together, and they’re slapping each other on the back like fraternity dudebros. I grab Glen’s wrist and yank him down to my level. “Hug him,” I order. He does, wrapping his arms around us both. After a moment, Kenta does the same, crouching next to us and joining the huddle. For a while, we all just sit there, pressed together. I curl up between them, breathing them all in. It feels amazing.
Eventually, though, someone shifts, and I hiss as an elbow knocks into my side.
Like clockwork, the men stand. Matt picks me up and carries me back inside, and the others follow, shutting the balcony door behind them. Someone’s made a sort of nest on the giant sofa, dragged in all of the quilts, blankets, and squishy pillows in the suite.
“We won’t all fit comfortably in one bed,” Kenta explains. “You can sleep in your room if you prefer, but we’d like to all be with you, tonight.”
