I try to read Garrett’s face. “No. Because this is what you’ve been worried about. This is why you’ve been quiet, isn’t it?”
He huffs. “I saw it. When we helped Isla with all…that shit of hers into our truck. Because I’ve seen you look at me the way you were looking at her.”
“I thought I was more discrete than that. I’m sorry.”
“I meant what I said. If you need her too, we’ll make it work.”
My throat goes tight. “You’re okay with that?”
“You needed comfort. She was the one you wanted it from.” He holds my jaw for a moment. “And she gave it to you.”
“I’d rather have it from you.”
He touches my cheek. “You’d rather have it from us both.”
There’s another crash downstairs, like something breakable smashing on the floor.
Garrett huffs. “Christ. Definitely another loud one.”
I laugh again, but this time, it fades. I’m torn between these growing feelings for Isla and the ones for Garrett that have never wavered since the day I met him. But there’s something in the way he’s looking out into the hallway, as if he can see Isla.
“Garrett, am I the only one feeling this way? Because you need to tell me if I am. I don’t want you to martyr yourself for my happiness.”
His gaze flickers, vulnerable for half a breath, then steady again. “No, Wild. You’re not. But I’m in no position, for now, to do anything other than lie here. And I’m still working through the idea I’m turning into that predictable, hyper-generalized bisexual, collecting ‘one of each.’”
Relief floods through me. Perhaps Isla could be…ours. Once she gets over feeling like she was once everyone else’s. “So, you?—?”
“Don’t make me say poetic things.” He grimaces. “I’m not built for it.”
“Then, just tell me in your words, so I’m clear.”
He sighs and closes his eyes. “She’s…good. Quiet in the right ways. Loud in the right ways. I don’t fully understand why she feels the need to be invisible now. But she still shines. Hard not to notice, and harder not to care. Wonder why we didn’t see it earlier.”
I look toward the staircase. “I don’t think she let us see this side of her while she was in the clubhouse. We saw the person she was trying to be, not who she is.”
“Wise words.”
“It doesn’t feel right,” I say. “I can’t start something with Isla right now, knowing you have feelings for her too. That feels likethe wrong move. It opens a door to jealousy. And I don’t want that.”
“And Isla needs us now. In whatever form that help comes. She shouldn’t have to wait for us, or you, because I’m injured. I’ve never done this, Wild. I gotta trust you know what we’re doing and let you lead. Maybe it’s a shift from monogamy together. I feel wrong, trying to control this, but…I don’t think this means an open door to more relationships.”
I think about what he’s saying. “Then, we need a rule. We’re a closed relationship, the three of us. If she’s only into one of us, we let her go. But it doesn’t mean we go looking for someone else.”
“You’d agree to that? For me? I don’t want to be the reason your heart breaks, Wild. Because you’re the only one who keeps mine together.”
“Urgh.” The word sounds like a growl. “And can’t you see, I don’t ever want to be the reason your heart breaks either.”
He takes my hand and squeezes it.
“So, we try?” I feel hopeful.
“She’s gonna need time,” Garrett says. “And safety. A steady hand to help her find her way through whatever trauma she’s carrying about the club. We go too fast and she’ll bolt.”
“She’s more like you than me that way.”
Garrett smiles. “I didn’t bolt.”
I chuckle at that. “Wrestling you down was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
