“I remember,” Adrian says quietly.
“Then you remember that we also promised never to abandon each other.” I glance at Elijah, who’s watching us both with those too-perceptive eyes, then continue, “Charlie is exactly the kind of person that pact was meant to protect. Someone broken and desperate and trying to do better. Someone who needs us.”
“Someone you want,” Adrian counters, and there’s an edge to his voice now.
“Yes.” I don’t bother denying it. “Someone I want. Someone Elijah wants, too, if I’m reading him correctly.”
Elijah doesn’t confirm or deny, but the slight flush on his cheeks tells me everything I need to know.
Adrian’s hands curl into fists at his sides. “This is insane. We can’t all?—”
“Can’t we?” The question comes from Elijah, his voice soft but steady. “We’ve already broken every rule that matters. Maybe it’s time we stop pretending we’re something we’re not.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
I can see Adrian processing, his mind working through the implications, the impossibility, the dangerous appeal of what Elijah is suggesting.
My own heart pounds against my ribs as I imagine it.
The three of us and Charlie, building something unconventional, and perfect, and completely forbidden.
“I need to think,” Adrian says finally, his voice strained. He turns and descends the stairs without another word, leaving Elijah and me alone in the choir loft.
I should feel relieved that the conversation is over. Instead, I feel more unsettled than before. Because now it’s out in the open. Now we all know what we want, even if we don’t know what to do about it.
I find Charlie in the church basement later that afternoon, organizing donated clothes for the parish’s outreach program.
She’s wearing jeans today instead of a dress, and they hug her curves in ways that make my mouth go dry.
Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun, and there’s a smudge of dust on her cheek that I want to wipe away.
“Marcus.” She looks up, startled, her hazel eyes wide. “I didn’t hear you come down.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” I move closer, and the basement suddenly feels too small, too intimate. “We need to talk.”
Her face goes carefully blank. “About?”
“About Adrian.” I watch her reaction, see the way her breath catches, the flush that creeps up her neck. “I know what happened between you two.”
Charlie’s hands still on the box she’s sorting. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.” I step closer, close enough that I can smell her perfume mixed with the vanilla from her stress-baking. “And you need to end it before someone else discovers you.”
“Why do you care?” Her voice is defensive, but there’s vulnerability underneath.
“Because I—” I stop myself, but it’s too late. The words are already forming, already true. “Because I care about both of you. Because this will destroy him if it gets out. Because you deserve better than being someone’s secret.”
Charlie looks up at me, something shifting in her expression. “Is that really why you care? Or is there another reason?”
My hand finds her arm, to emphasize my point.
But the moment I touch her, electricity shoots through me.
Her skin is warm beneath my fingers, soft, and I can feel her pulse racing. She doesn’t pull away.
Instead, she steps closer, her body angling toward mine, and I can see the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way her lips part slightly.
“Marcus,” she whispers, the same way she whispered Adrian’s name that night, and my name in her voice does something to me.
