Uncut (Unexpected Book 4) (28 page)

“You love her,” I correct him, with a lie. I’m fucked up. Because I’m in love with my ex-lover’s girlfriend. How’s that for fucked up? “She still thinks you have a thing for me.” I step outside and tilt my head for him to follow me. We both walk toward his car. “We had a good run. It’s over, so focus your energy on her—in a positive way. You hurt her and I’ll kill you.”

“I do have a thing for you, but it’s different.” He winks at me, laughing at his own joke. It gets to me that the sound of his laugh has become one of my favorite sounds. Along with Thea’s sweet voice. The way he looks at the world. Matt finds joy in everything. In life itself. Nothing sours his mood, or he hides it well. Damn, I think I’m falling.

Shit, shit.

“Tristan, I’ll always be attracted to you.” He rakes his hand through his unruly strands, his eyes running over my body. “The difference between those eight weeks and now is that I no longer see you as the hot guy I can fuck. You’re my friend. I care about you,
and
that woman right there. The one we both love,” he points toward the bar, “She’s teaching me how to love you. I think I want to set sail with the two of you, hoping the wind takes us to our final destination.”

My heart stops and my lungs deflate. What the fuck is he thinking? That’s not right, not the way a couple should be. Couples are pairs of two. Maybe I have to take him back to basics and explain how life, mathematics, and society dictate our lives.

“Count me out of your plans.” I take a step back. “Friendship. That’s all I can offer you and Thea, Matt. There can never be a final destination for the
three
of us. It's . . . abnormal.” I flinch. Fuck, I sound like my father. “Matt, I was able to fuck you by not letting myself believe.” I don’t finish. “But that’s over and we are both finding our place. Well, you found someone to love. Maybe one day I’ll be as lucky as you and will settle down,” I say, swallowing my feelings and turning back to Thea’s. “Nothing you say will convince me to follow that path.” Then I stop and gather my strength to behave like the asshole he hates. Pivoting, I warn him with my index finger. “Don’t start pushing that agenda on me, Matthew. You might lose her, or worse, this might end up in tragedy. If you love her so much, don’t jeopardize her happiness. Mark my words, three won’t work.”

“Don’t overthink this, Tristan. At least let it flow while we find out if we belong.” His signature smirk takes over, and I fight between punching him and kissing him. Why isn’t he listening to me? “I can’t predict the future, but I can work for it. I’ve decided to do so. Take care of our girl, babe.”

I
spent my morning with Christian Decker. He called yesterday to ask if I was available today. He wanted to discuss my availability for the next month since he found a place where I can counsel and he can supervise. All was exciting until he said the C word. Children. My kryptonite. I can’t counsel children without wanting to cry along with them, or wanting to take them with me. Give them a safe shelter where their parents, or whoever is in charge, can’t harm them anymore.

The worry of having to work with young humans busied my mind and exhausted me so much, that last night I let my guard down and told Matt the part of myself I hate. I’m upset at myself for being weak, and at him for calling Tristan.
Tristan.
Someone who cares for me as much as Matt does, or so Matt argued. Yet, spending the night in Matt’s arms was like spending an afternoon in a hammock on a warm sunny day. Finding Tristan behind the door of my apartment in the morning made my heart rate spike.

There’s just something about being around the two of them that makes me feel all kinds of things. Cherished, happy, loved, and safe. They have some special gift of knowing exactly what I need, when I need it. In fact, I’m lying to myself each time I say that having Tristan back isn’t necessary. His being here is a blessing after opening that old wound last night. Then there’s the fact that I don’t feel as if I’m deceiving him, as I do with Matt. He has no grudge against my family.

I hear the powerful rumble of an engine before I open the bar’s door. I turn to find Tristan pulling up into Reed’s parking spot. From where I stand, I can only see his face that wears a big frown. After killing the engine, he gets out of his truck and starts toward me. Just as our eyes meet, that permanent frown erases itself and the mysterious smile that only shows when we’re alone gleams.

The moment he stops in front of me, my insides become jelly and my girl parts beg for his touch. Shouldn’t this reaction feel so wrong though? I was in Matt’s arms not long ago.
Who am I?

“How was your morning?” He kisses my cheek, then playfully pushes down the flap of my cap. “That baseball cap should be against dress code.” He puts his arm around me, turning me toward the door. “I like when your hair is loose. All those colorful strands doing what Thea does best.”

“That sounds interesting. What is it that Thea does best?” Amused, I wait for some nonsense. The only thing I do best is hiding and creating big thick layers of lies to protect myself from the past.

“Letting the wind take you places.”

I laugh at his nonsense, cherishing one of the few moments when he doesn’t take stuff too seriously. “You make me sound as if I’m made out of paper.” I grin. His tender eyes stare and I wish I was her. A different Thea who goes wherever the wind blows. That kind of woman would enjoy the closeness that we share, the warmth of his arm around me. She’ll be ordinary, as opposed to another child actress gone bad. “You got me confused with some other chick, kind sir.”

Before Tristan and I can continue the discussion, we find Reed walking toward the restrooms carrying a large toolbox with him and a plunger.

“What happened?” Tristan releases me, marching toward Reed.

“The bathrooms, they flooded overnight. I called the plumber, but we might not be able to open tonight.”

“Let me buy the place before it falls apart.” Tristan glances at me, then tilts his head toward the exit. Is he wanting me to leave? I don’t think so. “I already own the surrounding buildings. As the ink from the sale dries, I’ll demolish all of them and rebuild from the ground up. Like Matthew told you, the Silver Moon will resurface like a phoenix in about a year.”

Demolishing? Wait, what’s going to happen to my apartment? Shit. I don’t like the sensation of not knowing what’s next. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt it. Fuck, everything is shifting quicker than I expected. I trusted that by the time Reed sold the place, I’d be working full-time. Maybe score a cheap apartment and buy a clunker that will allow me to trek around the city. Instead of acting like a brat and stomping out of the bar, I remind myself that I’m a grown woman who’s been caring for herself for a long time. Recalling that this isn’t the first time there’s a rock I might have to climb or walk around to reach my goals. The sight of Tristan brings the most important thing. I’m no longer alone. I have two wonderful friends that up until today have shown they have my back. Matt and Tristan. But can I fully trust them?

Tristan's soft gaze holds mine, and I’m convinced to take the leap of faith and trust. Maybe this doesn’t look promising at the moment, but I doubt they’ll leave me behind to find my own way.

Changing gears, my heart and mind reconnect, reclaiming my positive side. “Let’s get to work,” I say, walking past them. “Those bathrooms won’t get fixed or cleaned by themselves.”

Once my shift is over, I head back home. “Can we talk?” I jump out of my skin the moment I hear Tristan’s voice behind me.

Despite reclaiming my positive side, I’m still a realist. All night I’ve worked in automatic mode while pondering my next move. I’ve ignored everyone—possibly missed out on tips—because of the shit going through my head. Right now, I have to consider my future.

I’ve thought about what I could lose. Reed. Losing the routine I’ve become accustomed to. A few days a week I have
them
: Matt and Tristan. In a way, the bar is my home, and the guys were becoming some form of an extended family. But when the ink dries . . . am I going to be alone?

Again?

At least until they rebuild. And then I might get to work with the two of them again—I hope.

Did I misread Tristan’s look earlier that implored me to trust him?

“Fuck, this is hard.” Tristan releases a large breath. “You’re the one who knows the words or the actions to soothe us, to reassure us that everything will work out. Well, no. Matt does too. I’m the only one that’s not good at it. I have no idea how to make you see that no matter what happens to the Silver Moon, I’ll take care of you. You have us—Matt and me.” He runs a hand through his hair, and the pounding of my heart slows down as he confirms what my gut told me earlier.

Tristan reaches for his jeans pocket, pulls something out, and walks to me. He takes my hand, flips it, and places the crystal I gave him on top of it. Closing it into a fist, he kisses it and his dark eyes focus on me. “I’ve been alone for years, but you make me want to be a part of something—of someone. I want to be a part of you.”

It shocks me that he says that with such conviction. As if he loves me.
Like Matt.
Unlike Matt, this man is secretive, private. But not much with me, and that makes me want to let him inside my world, including the bad parts where no one is allowed. As I did with Matt.

Why is it that these two men have me tied into bunches of knots?
He must have seen me kissing Matt. Am I reading this wrong? Is he offering himself as well? In competition to Matt or is this something altogether different? Unconventional. No . . .

Both are so different, yet so similar. One is a book of riddles I want to solve, while the other is an open encyclopedia I want to read from cover to cover. Every day I work hard to be in control of myself, of my world. These two make me feel as if I’ll never attain my goal. That it’s safer if I lose myself between them and throw the control out the window.
How is this possible?

God. Someone. Whoever can hear me . . . get me out of here before I do something stupid. Like falling in love—with the two of them. Then crashing hard because I lost myself in them.