Atticus gasped and scooted forward on the cushion. “Well, I guess that clears it all up.”
“Wait,” Carson said, shifting in the chair, willing to tackle Atticus to the ground rather than letting him leave. He honestly thought Atticus already knew that part. Considering he’d witnessed the Slade and Atticus kissing in the parking lot, he thought for sure Slade had told him. So why hadn’t he?
“I don’t need to hear anymore,” Atticus said, his tone harsh. “It’s pretty clear what you’re interested in.”
“I said it because I thought you’d be in my bed, too.”
Atticus stopped moving, and Carson exhaled his relief. If he ran for the door, Carson wasn’t sure what he would do.
“It’s fucked up,” Carson continued. “I know it is, but I can’t help it. And I can’t make excuses for it anymore.”
“So you want to what? Fuck us both at the same time?” Atticus rolled his eyes. “Sorry. Not interested.”
Carson was frozen in place when Atticus got up and headed for the door. He wanted to lunge for him, but he couldn’t move.
Thankfully, Slade didn’t have the same problem because he was at the door before Atticus.
“Don’t tell me you like that idea.” Atticus huffed. “You two deserve each other.”
Slade didn’t say a word, stalking Atticus until they were toe to toe. Carson watched, his body temperature spiking as they got closer. It was the same reaction he had when he came out of Moonshiners and saw them kissing near Atticus’s truck.
Yeah, it was fucked up. His reaction wasn’t normal. He got that. But that didn’t mean it was wrong. He found pleasure in it, and as long as he wasn’t doing it deceitfully, why should he be ashamed?
His issue didn’t have anything to do with shame. It had to do with finding someone who understood his needs, someone who could live with them. Last night, when he had taunted Atticus, the seed had been planted. He’d given himself free rein to think about the three of them together, and he hadn’t stopped thinking about it since.
It was everything he’d ever wanted, and if he had to guess, this was the sort of relationship that would work for Slade, too. After all, Atticus wasn’t a stranger, and clearly, Slade had a thing for him. So why couldn’t they pursue it? Why couldn’t they see if they could have something? The three of them. He had cousins who were making this sort of relationship work. Why the fuck couldn’t he find that, too?
“I’m not doin’ this,” Atticus said, staring up at Slade.
He didn’t try to sidestep him. Hell, Atticus didn’t even try to move. So, who was he trying to convince?
“No one’s makin’ you,” Slade said quietly. “You can stay here, and I’ll leave. Or you can leave with me. You’ve got all the power here, Atticus.”
“Me?” Atticus looked back at Carson. “Why? Because you two want to fuck each other?”
“Because we want to fuck you,” Slade growled roughly.
Atticus jerked back, but he didn’t move away from Slade.
Carson waited, sitting as still as possible as he hoped that Atticus would see what he saw. The three of them together … they could have it all.
Chapter Sixteen
For the past hour, Becs had satquietly on the sofa in Evan’s office, watching television. She wasn’t sure what they were watching, but staring at the screen had given her time to pull herself together.
At first, the tears had flowed steadily, and it had taken effort to wrangle them in. The first time she thought she had pulled herself together resulted in another bout of sobbing against Evan’s shoulder. Thankfully, he wasn’t looking at her like she was a hot mess, although she was pretty sure that was the case. She was emotionally overloaded after the day’s events, and his presence only added to the strain.
Luckily for her, enough time had passed that she’d been able to wrangle her emotions into some sort of order. She was no longer on the verge of tears. She was able to sit on her end of the couch, the tears successfully dried up.
“Would you like to talk about it?”
Becs looked over to see Evan was watching her. In fact, he was angled so his full attention was on her and not the television. Apparently, she’d been the only one watching it. She wasn’t sure whether he meant talking about the kiss they’d shared last week, or the argument they had, or about what happened to JJ today. There were so many topics they had yet to cover.
To ensure she didn’t jump to conclusions, she said, “About what?”
“Whatever’s upsetting you.”
“I’m not upset.” She sat up straight. “Really. I’m not. I’m a crier.” She smiled, realizing how that might terrify him. “I cry when I’m happy and when I’m sad or angry. Today, I cried because I’m relieved that JJ’s okay.”
