“She tricked me to fall in love with her.”
“You jumped into that headfirst like a lovesick puppy because you wanted someone to love you that badly. You think shit would have worked if you kept your cool like a normal person would? Falling this fast wasyourdoing, not hers. Nobody can make you fall for them. You were fucking naïve.”
I know this is rich coming from me, but I absolutely can think like a sane person when it’s not aboutmyfeelings for her.
His frown deepens, and I know I’m getting through, even if he hates hearing it.
“But I can’t really blame you, can I? She’s everything,” I continue. “She’s been through shit you can’t even imagine, and she still keeps going. She needs all of us. The first love she lost because she deserves to have him back. Me, because I make her laugh when she doesn’t want to. Koen, because he makes her feel safe. And yeah, apparently, she needs you too. For fuck if I know what.”
Nicholas’s gaze flickers toward me. “Why doesn’t it bother you that she’s into four guys?”
“Because I’m her main, and you guys are only her side chicks.” Nicholas’s expression deadpans, and I sigh dramatically. “Fine. She wants all of us equally, or someself-love harmonycrap like that. But let’s be real. I make her the wettest.”
Nicholas lets out a sharp scoff, but there’s a flicker of something beneath it. Annoyance or amusement, maybe both.
“And you know what? She gives me everything I need without even trying. So why wouldn’t I want the same for her? Why would I try to keep her from having what makes her happy?Even if that includesyou.” His sharp exhale cuts through the air. He sounds frustrated and unsure, but I keep going anyway. “Are youin lovewith her? Or did you simply want to be in love so badly you told yourself you were?”
“I don’t know,” he admits after a beat. But I can hear that he absolutely does know. He’s a goner for her, just like the rest of us.
“It’s not that hard to figure out.” I tilt my head to look at him. “Would you put her well-being before your ego?”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means the real issue here is your pride,” I explain, not backing down. “You don’t like that she was part of our plan. You don’t like that she caught real feelings for you, the same way you did for her. And you definitely don’t like the idea of sharing her. But if you really care about her, none of that matters. So ask yourself, can you put her needs before your pride?”
“Sharing her…” He blinks, his lips twitching like he’s trying to figure out whether to laugh or tell me to fuck off. “You mean this whole… whatever the hell this is?”
“Exactly,” I say, smirking. “A co-boyfriend situation. Boyfriend Collective. The Sparkle Syndicate, if you will.”
Nicholas stares at me like I’ve lost my mind, his lips pressing into a thin line until the corner twitches. “The Sparkle Syndicate?”
“Call it what you want, man. Boyfriend Coalition? Whatever makes it easier for your fragile ego to swallow.” I shrug, grinning. “Membership perks include Sparkle’s smile and the occasional existential crisis.”
He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re insane.”
“Yeah, but you’re still listening.”
He doesn’t answer, his gaze fixed on the road. It feels like he might end the conversation right there, but then he speaks again, “You make it sound so fucking easy.”
“It’s not,” I admit. “But it’s simple. You’re hurt. I get it. But you’re the one holding onto it. If you want her, fight for her. If you want this family, fight for it. But if you can’t, fine. Walk away. Just don’t blame us when you realize you’re the one who lost everything.”
He’s silent for a long moment, his grip on the wheel easing slightly. “And what if I can’t?”
“Then that’s on you, man,” I say, sitting back in my seat. “But if you’re willing to put her before your pride, then you’ll figure it out.”
He exhales slowly, his eyes scanning the road ahead, but the tension in his shoulders starts to loosen. “You’re a pain in the ass.”
“Tell me something new.”
He doesn’t respond, but it’s fine. He has a lot to think about now.
Only the Backstreet Boys fill the silence, and because I’m me, I start singing along, loud and unapologetically. At first, Nicholas doesn’t react, but as I hit the chorus with all the passion of a seasoned boy-band fan, I swear I hear something. It’s faint, so faint I almost miss it, a low hum, barely there but definitely in tune.
I pause mid-line, side-eyeing him. “Harrington… are youhumming?”
His jaw tightens, and he keeps his eyes on the road. “No.”
“You are. I can hear it.”
