I sink into the armchair, the one Millie just emptied, my legs suddenly unable to support my weight. I face them, my mind reeling, trying to process this new, even more fucked-up piece of information.
“You slept with the sheriff?” I ask, my voice a hollow echo in the quiet room.
“Shit,” she says again.
Maddox looks at Knox. “You better have a seat,” he says. “This is going to take a while.”
Knox
Why does Liam look like he’s about to jump me?
The thought is a sharp, unwelcome intrusion as I stand here, the wallet in my hand feeling like a foreign object. His fists are clenched at his sides, his knuckles white, his whole body coiled with a tension that’s practically vibrating in the small space.
He’s not looking at Millie. He’s not looking at Maddox. He’s looking at me. The target of his misplaced fury. This is a powder keg, and I’m the fool holding the match.
Maddox seems to be the only one with a clear head. He walks past us and into the kitchen. I hear the clink of glasses. He returns a moment later with a bottle of vodka and four glasses. The clear liquid sloshes as he walks.
He sets them down on the coffee table, a makeshift altar for our impending sacrifices. He pours four shots, the liquid a clear, sharp rectangle in each glass. He hands one to me.
I shake my head. “I’m driving.” The words are a flimsy shield, a last grasp at professionalism in a situation that is anything but.
He shrugs and offers the next glass to Liam. Liam just stares at it, his jaw tight, a silent refusal.
Maddox doesn’t push.
He hands the next one to Millie. She takes it, her fingers trembling, but just holds it between her hands. Then Maddox picks up his own glass, throws his head back, and downs it in one smooth motion. He pours himself another immediately. His hands are steady, but I can see the tic in his jaw, the only sign of the pressure he’s under.
“What the fuck is going on?” Liam finally asks, his voice a low, dangerous growl that’s aimed squarely at me.
My gaze shifts to Millie. She’s looking at me, her eyes wide and filled with apology, before they dart away, landing on the blanket pooled around her feet. She smells like sex and herself and what I now recognize as Maddox, a warm, woodsy scent that clings to her skin.
I should feel jealous. A primal, possessive rage should be coursing through me. The sheriff, the Alpha, should be staking his claim.
But all I can think about is how good she smells. The combination is intoxicating, a potent cocktail of her desire and theirs. It’s a scent that speaks of a complex, messy, beautiful truth, and all it does is make me want. What the hell is wrong with me?
This is when she starts to talk. Her voice is trembling, fragile. “A few weeks ago,” she begins, her gaze fixed on the floor, “I had a one-night stand.”
Liam nods, his expression hardening. “I remember.” Then he turns to me, his eyes narrowing. “Was that you?”
I nod. There’s no point in denying it.
Millie nods too, a small, jerky motion. “It was just that one time,” she says, her voice rushing out in a torrent. “Before I knew he was the sheriff. Before any of this.”
Liam turns on her, his face a mask of betrayal. “So you lied.”
“I omitted,” she corrects, her chin lifting in a show of defiance that’s undercut by the tremor in her lip.
“Let her speak,” Maddox says, his tone low but firm. He places a hand on Millie’s shoulder, a protective gesture.
She takes a shaky breath. “I was scared, Liam. I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t know what it was. You know how you get about law enforcement. I was scared you were going to hate me.”
“It wasn’t just a mistake, Millie,” Liam shoots back, his hands gesturing wildly. “This almost destroyed our friendship. I knew you were keeping something huge from me, and you said nothing. You made me believe that we were okay.”
“We are okay,” she says.
“No, we aren’t. If we were, you wouldn’t have run the first time I told you I had feelings for you. Or the second. Or the third. All you did was run. I told you that I loved you, and you turned around and slept with someone else,” he spits out.
I catch Maddox flinch.
