by M. Never
Everly lashes out at me, shoving me away. “Yes, I do. I do need him. You don't get to decide for me, Tage. You don’t get to just waltz right back into my life and expect me to drop everyone that I love. Last night was a mistake. It should have never happened.” The words are painful. Painful for me to hear and painful for her to say, because I know they’re not entirely true. I know Everly Paige better than anyone, and last night meant as much to her as it did to me, but Alec has staked a claim on a bigger piece of her heart than I anticipated.
“I think I need some air.” Alec brushes by us with a ghostly expression on his face. The dude is clearly fucked up, and not in the good way.
“Alec, please don’t go. Please, let's talk about this.” She catches his hand at the last second, but he instantly pulls away. She’s crushed.
She’ll get over it. Over him. Eventually.
Alec slams the door behind him, and all that’s left is us. Exactly the way it should be. The way it should have always been.
“Hey.” I take her arms and turn her to face me. There are heavy tears running down her cheeks. “It’ll be okay. I’m here.”
She peers up at me with a dark expression. It’s quite frankly a little disturbing.
Then, silently as a sniper, she slaps me right across the face.
19
Alec
Outside on the street, I suck on my vape pen like it’s a damn oxygen stick.
My mind is fucking reeling. This day, I have no words to describe it. I woke up on top of the world, and right now I’m buried beneath it.
Everything is bruised — my heart, my lip, my ego.
The first time in forever I take a chance on someone, and it blows up in my face.
“Rough day, huh?” Tage suddenly nudges me. I glance over at him to find a surprise. A fading red hand print graffitied across his cheek.
“You could say that.” I begin to walk away. The last person I want to be around is him.
To my utter dismay, he follows.
“Get lost,” I spit.
“We should talk.”
“I think you’ve done enough talking.”
“Not even a little bit.” He latches onto my bicep and directs me into a dark pub on the street corner. “Drinks will help.”
“Nothing will fucking help.” I inhale one more puff of my vape.
“Alcohol always helps. It’s the cure-all. Especially when you drink so much of it you forget you even exist.”
“I wouldn’t mind forgetting you exist.”
Tage just grunts, but he doesn't seem bothered by my snarky comment at all.
The bar is a dump. Dusty, ancient furnishings and a bartender older than the day.
“Two shot glasses and a bottle of Jack.” Tage slaps the bar top.
“No Jack, sonny, this is an Irish bar. You want whiskey, it’s Jameson or bust,” the bartender croaks.
“We'll have Jameson, then.”
Definitely not my first choice.
It takes the elderly man what feels like a year to get off his stool, grab the green bottle and two shot glasses, and place them in front of us. By the time he does, I’m thirstier than the fucking desert. At least Tage has the good sense to pour my shot first. It goes down like fire, but I surprisingly like the burn. I grab the bottle neck and pour another one, and then one more.
“Do you want to race? Because I can totally keep up.” He slams his second shot.
“I just want to forget.”
“Forget what?”
“This day ever fucking happened.”
“Yeah, shitty days suck.”
“Why are you here?”
“The alcohol?” He shakes his shot glass like duh.
I’m not amused. I’m pissed, I’m miserable, and I want to punch him right in the fucking face. Again. “And to talk.”
“Right. Talk.” I pound another shot.
“You throw a pretty good right hook for a pretty boy.”
“I wasn’t always a pretty boy. I just dress the part perfectly.”
“I wasn’t always a shithead, but I dress the part perfectly, too.” Down Tage’s hatch goes another shot.
“Can we get this talk over with, please?” I just want to go home and smoke myself stupid.
“Don’t blame Ever for what happened. I initiated it. I took advantage of our situation.”
“And what situation is that?” I question.
“She loves me.”
I nearly puke in my mouth. “Are you just here to twist the knife a little deeper? Do you get off on crushing people's emotions? I’ll admit, I can act like an asshole sometimes, but you are straight up ruthless.”
“I’ll answer those questions in order. No, I’m not here to twist the knife deeper, and yes, I do find some minor enjoyment in crushing other people’s emotions. It’s probably just because I’m a miserable bastard myself. See what I did there? A little psychoanalysis on myself.”
He sounds so delighted. “Freud would be proud.” More brown liquid in the glass, please.
“Look, mine and Everly’s past is complicated. It’s tangled, and painful, and utterly complex. I hurt her deeply when I thought I was trying to protect her. I thought I was doing the right thing. And for a long time I believed that, but lately, not so much.” Tage talks to the shot glass he is spinning in his fingers.
“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”
“No. I’m just trying to make you understand where Everly is coming from. Where we’re both coming from.”
“Can you explain how you ‘hurt her deeply’?” I regurgitate his words.
“Yes, but I’ll need another shot first.” He grabs the bottle. Tage pours one shot and then follows right behind it with another.
“Ahhh, okay.” He seemingly gears up for this explanation. “Everly was sixteen when I met her. I was twenty-four. It was my first undercover assignment.”
“You’re a cop?”
“Mmm.” He winces, “Not exactly. I work for a private contractor called Endeavor. We sort of work on the fringe of the law. We’re the ones who break the rules and don’t exactly get in trouble. It’s very involved, and yet what we do is extremely important.”
“So, you were there to take Everly’s stepfather down?”
“Not exactly. Gunner was moving up the ranks pretty damn fast, and we were enlisted to collect intel. Find the bigger fish, so to speak. You don’t grow that fast or that quickly without knowing some pretty powerful people or making some pretty significant contacts. We needed to find out who was funding him. Where he was getting his influx of drugs. And I did. I also fell in love with Ever. It was a massive no-no. Getting emotionally and physically involved with a minor while working undercover. I was there to do a job, not get off. But I found myself doing both. The girl in the window intrigued me. I tied to ignore her, but every night I saw her staring out into that courtyard, and I just had to find out who she was. Why she was there. And so much more ended up happening.”
I can actually see the regret sketched on his face.
“So, how did you hurt her?”
“I made promises.”
“What kind of promises?”
“I promised I would take care of her. That I would always be there for her. And I kept those promises, just not in the way she expected.”
“So, you were fucking her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, and then you pulled the rug out from under her? Am I following correctly?”
“That law school degree didn’t go to waste.” He clicks his tongue and points at me. “I wasn't just fucking her. I genuinely loved her. I still genuinely love her. My cover was blown somehow. Gunner found out about me, so I had to act fast. The night everything went down, the night his compound was raided, I promised Everly I would take care of her. I wasn't even supposed to be there, but I couldn't not warn her. She hadn’t seen the outside world in three years. The only people she had contact with were me and Gunner, and her mother when the fancy striked. I did take care of Ever. I
made sure she got a fresh start. But I couldn't be part of that new life. Not the way she wanted me to. She wanted us to be together. To be a family, but my work, my life, it was just too complicated. I didn’t want that for her. I wanted her to be happy. I wanted her to be free. I wanted so much more for her than just . . . me.”
“So you walked away?”
“In a sense, yes. I would pop in to check on her now and again. I always kept tabs, but she hated me. Resented me. I broke her fucking heart, and I knew it, but I couldn’t stay away. Deep down those feelings were always still stirring. And then she met you.” His wavy, blond hair is shielding his eye and cheek of his profile, but I don't have to see his expression to know. Seeing her with me drove him batshit crazy. The same kind of crazy it drove me when I found out they were together last night. Knife. Stab. Wound. Chest.
“What a fucking pair we are.” I down another shot, my throat nearly numb from the burn of the whiskey.
“What a fucking pair,” Tage agrees as he follows my lead.
“So, what the fuck are you two sad sacks gonna do about it?” the elderly bartender croaks from his stool in the corner. Who knew he could hear so far?
Tage and I exchange an unsure look. We have rammed head first into an impasse.
“My brother and I felt for the same girl once,” the old man muses.
“Oh, yeah, and what did you do about it?” Tage asks gruffly.
The old man shrugs. “What our mother taught us to do. Share.”
Tage and I are silent as we absorb this response. Share?
We don’t get to analyze the response for long as a middle-aged man storms into the bar.
“Pop. Jesus, Pop, we have been looking all over for you.”
Tage and I just stare confused as the man strides across the cracked wood floor to where his elderly father is sitting.
“I’m right where I should be,” the old man bristles.
“The bar is closed. We sold it. You can’t keep coming back here.”
Tage and I freeze. Closed? Sold? Oh, shit.
“I’m sorry.” The man with a graying goatee and button-up shirt turns to us. “He has dementia. He’s supposed to be in a nursing home, but he keeps sneaking out and coming back here. We sold the bar a few days ago.” He looks at his father with pity. “It’s been his home for over thirty years.”
“It’s still my home. It always will be, Justin.”
“James, Dad. James,” the man corrects him.
“James.” The old man inspects his son’s face. They share the same features, prominent nose and small, inset eyes.
“I’m sorry. I’m going to have to ask you two to leave. No one should be here. Especially him.” He frowns.
“We're leaving.” Tage shoots his last shot. “Do you mind if we take the bottle, though?”
“No,” the man smirks. “Consider it a thanks for keeping this one out of trouble.”
“Anytime.” Tage hops out of his chair, and I follow.
“Later, old-timer.” Tage salutes him.
“Remember what I said, boys. Share,” he responds almost parentally.
We exit the bar on that note.
Share?
“I think we should go check on Everly.” Tage starts walking in the direction of her apartment building.
“Both of us?” I catch up to him.
“You heard the man. Share.”
“Are you serious?” I pull his arm, stopping him short.
“Of course, I am. Haven't you ever shared a woman before?”
“Define the context. A drunken threesome in college, yes.”
“You’re not so prissy, huh?” Tage smiles.
“I’m not prissy at all. Nice suits don’t equate to picture perfect. And this is Everly we’re talking about. She isn’t just some random hook-up.”
“She isn't,” he agrees. “Which is why I think this is a great idea.”
“Explain,” I huff.
“Listen, Everly has gotten the short end of the stick most of her life. With her parents, with me. She deserves all the love she can get. It’s like the ideal romance novel. The bad boy and the businessman. What woman would refuse that?” Tage is smug.
“Um, a sane one,” I contradict.
“Gotta live a little, man. Chase more than just ambulances.” Tage starts walking again, cockier than a rooster in a hen house.
“I don’t fucking chase ambulances, and I live plenty,” I argue.
“Well, I’m not giving Everly up. So, either I go into her apartment alone, or you come with me.”
“What if she doesn’t want you? What if she chooses me?”
“Why even present her with the option?”
“So, you want to manipulate her into a threesome?”
“No. I want to offer her everything she deserves. Which is both of us. You have three blocks to think about it. I’m all in.”
“You make heavy decisions pretty quick,” I point out.
“Life is too short to mull over bullshit. I know what I want, and I go for it.”
“This has the potential to get messy.”
“If we’re lucky.” Tage pops his eyebrows and smiles salaciously.
“That’s not what I meant.” I elbow him, but the prospect is inviting.
I imagine the scenario the whole way to Everly’s apartment building — two guys, one girl, lots and lots of orgasms. It isn’t a torturous thought.
Once in front of her door, both Tage and I prepare for a beat.
Getting dirty doesn’t bother me, but can I share the woman I love?
I’m sure as hell about to find out.
20
Everly
I hug my pillow the same way I did as a child as the tears flow down my face. Not surprisingly, they dry faster than they did back then.
Barely anything has changed over the last eight years. I’m still alone. I’m still sad. I’m still isolated, except now, my emotions are hardened.
No matter how much I try to change my situation, it seems I’m cursed to repeat the past in one way or another.
I should be falling apart. I should be crumbling under the heartbreak, but I’m not. I’ve become way too good at saying goodbye. At dealing with heartache. Every time Tage walked out the door, it desensitized me a little more while killing me at the same time.
The pain was so severe I had to learn to smother it. The more I hurt, the less I would allow myself to cry. Until today.
The love I so desperately wanted just slipped through my fingers. Tage ruined everything, and yet, like a desperate, love-struck teenager, I’m hoping he comes back.
Foolishly, I want them both to come back.
I’m in love with them both and have no idea what to do about it.
Choose?
Impossible.
Sacrifice them both?
I can’t bring myself to imagine my life with one and not the other.
It almost doesn’t make sense. They both offer me something completely unique. Two primary colors that saturate my world with pigment when mixed together.
An emotional kaleidoscope that conquers my full attention. My entire existence.
Impossible positions. That’s what I’m constantly presented with, nothing but impossible positions.
For once in my goddamn life I just want things to be easy.
There’s a light knock on my bedroom door.
“Go away,” I grumble, not really meaning it at all.
“We both know that’s not what you want.” Tage enters with Alec right behind him. I pop my head up off the pillow confused, slightly elated, and completely terrified.
The two men swallow the small room, making it feel tinier than it already is.
Each one claims a side of the bed, and all I can do is sit perfectly still, watching their every move.
The energy in the air is off. It’s thick with tension, and something else. Something I can’t identify. I can feel it, though. Tugging at my core and wrapping around my gut.
&
nbsp; My throat is dry, and my heartbeat is rapid.
Tage sits on the edge of the bed first.
Placing his hand over mine, he says, “I’m sorry, love.”
My jaw drops. Tage never apologizes. For anything. He’s always stood by his decisions without hesitation. It’s one of the things I equally love and hate about him. “I’m sorry for everything. For today. For yesterday. For the last eight years.” His hazel eyes are so raw. So genuine. They’re the same eyes that used to look at me all those years ago. A lump forms in my throat. I don’t want to cry, but I’m on the brink.
“I’m so mad at you,” I whisper. I want to scream it, but I can’t. My voice is nearly gone.
“I know. That’s why I’m here. Why we’re both here.” He glances over at Alec.
I’m more confused than ever.
Alec touches the dimple in my forehead, the same way he did in the elevator that day. It’s a familiar gesture that sets me at ease.
“Neither one of us wants to you give up. And we don’t want to put you in a position to choose.” Alec exhales a heavy breath. The tension in the room cracks like a piece of an iceberg just fell into the sea.
“I’m not sure I understand.” My attention jumps between them.
“We know that you do.” Tage picks up my hand and places a kiss on the inside of my wrist. He’s being sweet. He’s being sensitive. He’s being very un-Tage like.
Alec then sits on the bed, and all my senses heighten to red alert. What’s happening here?
Alec presses a soft kiss on my neck, and my silent question is answered.
Holy shit.
“Are you two fucking around right now?” I could almost explode.
“We would never. Not about this. Not with you,” Tage declares resolutely as the emotional strain continuously applies pressure. I’m a joint ready to break.
Taking Alec’s hand, I slip his arm around my waist for support. Him I trust. As much as I want Tage, the past eight years weighs heavily on me. It’s my burden. I don’t know if I can withstand another one of his heartbreaks.
Alec tightens his hold, and Tage clearly sees our connection. There’s worry in his eyes. Those big, all-consuming, hazel eyes that I have dreamt about continuously for eight years. I missed them looking at me like that. Like I was as glorious as the entire galaxy.