Roll Against Discovery (3d20 Book 3)

by Lindt, Allyson

  Except he’d started it. As childish as that sounded in my own mind, it was the best description of the situation. I shouldn’t have to roll over and play nice, just because some douche nozzle had wife issues. I expected a surge of nausea at the self-justification. A physical reminder I wasn’t allowed to think that way. A ghost of the discomfort was there—an itch that had no source. On the other hand, I felt good about not taking the verbal abuse and speaking up when I needed to.

  The con weekend had flipped a switch in my head. Not that I was willing to make myself the life of every party now, but something inside me had changed. Some of my trepidation was gone. The realization brought a sudden wash of sadness with it. A nudge I’d lost something too. Two men I wasn’t meant to have.

  They’d wanted to end things then and there, but I couldn’t let it go. With any luck, now that they’d had time to chill out—that we all had—they’d be more receptive to talking. Who was I kidding? This wasn’t a rational decision on my part, the same way yelling at the customer had been completely impulsive. I wanted to see Trevor and Evan again, and I wasn’t going to sit around and hope they read my mind from wherever they were.

  I sent them a quick DM, copying both of them like I had before. Thinking of you. There. Basic enough. Impulse snaked through me, and as an afterthought I also included my phone number.

  I didn’t have a chance to sink back into the couch before my phone rang. The number on the screen wasn’t familiar, and I pressed Answer with more enthusiasm than I should have. “Hello?” What I meant to be a cheerful, upbeat greeting came out as tentative.

  “Kitten.”

  A huge weight lifted from me, and I grinned at the empty room. “You called.” Not the most brilliant thing I could have said, but I’d done worse.

  “I was thinking of you too.” Evan’s voice calmed the chaos in my head. “I don’t like the way we left things at the con.”

  That made two of us. “Can we meet somewhere? Nothing formal. Coffee or something, all three of us? Take a step back, get to know each other… Just hang out.”

  His sigh echoed over the line. “I can try, but I have a feeling it’ll only be you and me. I’m working late tonight. Tomorrow?”

  Was he bummed because Trevor couldn’t be there? I had to admit, I didn’t like it either, but I still wanted to see Evan. “I have an Aikido class. What if we do it Saturday? I’ve got all day, and we can figure things out as we go.” Did I sound needy? I was okay with that.

  “Sounds fantastic.” A hesitant note lined his voice.

  It wasn’t much, but I knew I’d heard it. “I said something wrong.”

  “No.” The cheer was gone from his voice, replaced with something sad. “You said exactly the right thing. In a lot of ways, you remind me of Trevor.”

  “I’m— Um…” I had no idea how to respond to that. “Thanks?”

  He let out a light chuckle. “It’s a good thing; I promise. It’s just a little bittersweet. He’s not talking to me right now.”

  “Why not?” I asked. A pause carried over the line, and realization clicked in my head. It was because of me. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. I mean that sincerely. I’m not brushing you off.” He clucked, as if tossing a thought back and forth. “Anyway. Saturday is perfect.”

  We figured out a spot we both knew, to meet at, and said our goodbyes. I wanted to say more, but I’d rather it be face to face. I didn’t like the idea of having to wait so long to see Evan, but the situation was certainly better than before I messaged him. Maybe it would give me enough time to figure out what I really wanted, instead of getting by on instinct.

  I felt like I could breathe again, and still had an entire afternoon free. Nervous energy hummed through me, looking for an outlet. The dojo I worked out at had open classes during the day, where anyone was welcome to participate. It sounded like the perfect solution.

  Two and a half hours later, every inch of me ached, and I was in desperate need of a shower, but my mind was clear. I grabbed my phone from my duffel bag, and the flashing light caught my eye. Probably a random email or something. My heart jammed in my throat when I saw the series of text messages, one every thirty minutes or so.

  It’s Trevor. I got your note.

  I’m sure you’re busy. Just wanted to say hi.

  I don’t know why I’m still bugging you.

  Probably because I’m thinking of you, too.

  I had to stop the giddiness from making my hand shake before I could send back a reply. I missed you.

  Have dinner with me tomorrow. His answer came seconds later, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  I have an Aikido class.

  Oh.

  He didn’t give me much to go on, but I wasn’t ready for the conversation to be over. I typed back, Have coffee with us Saturday.

  Us? His message said. So you’re talking to Evan.

  It should have been obvious I reached out to both of them. He called me back. Was I going to ignore him?

  Busy Saturday. Sorry.

  Hurt welled inside. Fine. Be that way. It was a childish answer, but he wasn’t acting any better.

  Wait. If a single word, via text message no less, could convey torrents of meaning, his had. At least I wanted to think that was the case. I really am busy, his next message read.

  I hovered my fingers over the screen before I typed, Friday? Just us?

  Seeing them separately wasn’t the way to do this, but maybe I could nudge them toward common ground.

  I’ll be there, he replied.

  I needed this to not be a massive mistake.

  I headed home, tossing a million ideas around in my head about how to distract myself while I waited for time to pass.

  It took about thirty seconds to make sure I updated my phone and associated Evan and Trevor’s names with their numbers. Another two minutes, maybe, to put reminders in my calendar for our dates. Not that I needed anything more than my buzzing thoughts to remind me, but it was something to do.

  And then I sank onto the couch and stared at the wall. I should watch a movie or something. Or maybe I wanted to go out to eat. This was weird—I never wanted to go out alone. For once, though, I didn’t care if people whispered and talked about the girl sitting at a corner table, dining by herself.

  I walked back into my apartment around nine. Dinner had been nice, but I wasn’t able to stretch it out long enough. Should I watch a movie? Fall asleep early? I wasn’t tired.

  My phone rang, and I jumped. I laughed at the empty apartment and my own skittishness. A smile threatened to split my face when I saw Evan’s name on the screen.

  “Hey.” Giddiness fluttered in my chest. “I thought you were working.”

  “I just got off.”

  “And you didn’t let me watch.” Oops, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.

  His laugh relaxed me. “You’re going to kill me with lines like that.” He sounded like he looked forward to it.

  I sat down, and pulled a throw pillow onto my lap. “I could apologize if that helps.”

  “Definitely don’t do that. I like knowing you meant it. Besides, I was thinking it, so I would be disappointed if you didn’t say anything.”

  I wanted to take the flirting further. Fall into the teasing. The excitement racing over my skin made me curious to see how far we could go over the phone. Except, something about getting too sexy with just Evan felt like cheating. It wasn’t a rational thought, but that didn’t make it any easier for me to feel otherwise. “What’s up?” That sounded casual, right?

  “Honestly? I just wanted to talk.”

  “And you called me? I’m flattered.” I tried to sound flippant, but the sentiment had me glowing.

  “You should be. I didn’t want to talk to anyone else…”

  Except Trevor. I almost heard the words buried in his unfinished sentence, and I didn’t know how to respond.

  “I wanted to hear your voice.” Evan’s tone firmed and took on the confide
nce I expected from him.

  I lost track of time as we fell into conversation, touching on everything from what movies we were waiting for to places we’d love to visit, to how we felt about karma.

  When I yawned for the fourth time in as many minutes, he said, “You need your sleep, Kitten.”

  Was it really almost two? I didn’t want to hang up, but we both had work in the morning, and mine promised to be horrible even without exhaustion looming over me. “Sleep is for the weak.”

  “Then that’s me.” His voice took on a somber tone. “I’ll see you this weekend.”

  We said reluctant goodbyes, and I barely remembered to strip out of my clothes before collapsing in bed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Waking up Tuesday morning was like grating my soul over a gravel pit. I forced myself to follow my routine. Go to work. Ignore the stares. Not yell at obnoxious customers. Head to the dojo.

  I was dragging by the time I made it home that night. I needed to unwind after my workout, and a shower helped, but experience told me my muscles would hate me in the morning if I didn’t sit up for at least a little while.

  I settled on the couch and grabbed the remote. My phone buzzed with a new text. A second wind of energy rushed through me when I saw a message from Trevor.

  What’re you up to? he asked.

  Deciding what to watch.

  Oh :(

  His frowny face drew a similar expression from me. How was I supposed to interpret it? I should be staring at the wall instead? I hoped he’d get the teasing in my response.

  No. I just wanted to catch you after class and before your shower.

  I adored that he’d messaged me, but unlike with to Evan, over the phone, I struggled to infer the tone of the conversation based on typed words. Because…?

  To give you something to fantasize about, while you rinsed off.

  Oh. Heat flooded my skin, and any doubt about his tone evaporated. You’re assuming I wasn’t already thinking about it. If I hadn’t been before, I was now. Slipping and sliding together in the shower. My pulse raced at the vivid images.

  His reply made my phone vibrate in my hand. Me stepping up behind you? Wrapping my arms around your waist. Both of us soapy and wet…

  Fuck. That whole this feels like cheating thing was back, looming at the forefront of my thoughts. I didn’t know what to say.

  Except in your version, there are more than two of us.

  I almost heard his disappointment. I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry, I sent back. No reason to keep avoiding this. I knew what I wanted. The revelation startled me. I really did know what I wanted, and it was both of them. Without a doubt. It’s not the same if you’re not both there.

  Nothing. Several minutes passed without a reply. Had my message gone through? Had I pissed him off? I fumbled with a follow-up text, fluctuating between teasing and serious.

  His response buzzed in first. So, what are we watching?

  I didn’t want to leave things like that, brushing over my comment as if it never existed, but this wasn’t the medium to have the conversation in. I’d see him face to face on Friday.

  I should send back a series name. We’d be ridiculous and watch the same thing at the same time.

  Damn it, I couldn’t leave things this way. I’m serious.

  Would things have been different if we met without Evan? Trevor’s question burrowed deep into my thoughts. Shock hit me first. I shouldn’t be surprised he asked, but it still felt like icy water racing down my spine. The longer the words lingered in my head, the more they hurt. Would you really take that from me? From us?

  If you already know he’s what you want, why are we talking? You’ve made up your mind. Why lead me on?

  I clenched my jaw at the accusation, especially since I’d just told him this wasn’t what I wanted. You’re misinterpreting my words. Fuck that. You’re just being an ass.

  Spell it out for me, so I don’t have to guess.

  Were we really fighting via text message? One of the guys I wasn’t actually dating, who I was never supposed to see again after two weeks ago? It was ludicrous and infuriating, and it felt right. I already spelled it out. More than once. Don’t make me choose.

  I’m sorry. I’m being cruel.

  Damn straight. Instead of sending back my gut response, I typed, I don’t know what else to do but be honest with you. I don’t want this to be you versus Evan. I don’t know why you think it has to be.

  Because that’s how relationships work. Two people hook up, form a bond, and see how far they want to take things…

  No, I typed. That’s how most relationships work. If we want something different, we can make up our own rules.

  Just because you know someone who made it happen, doesn’t mean it’s that easy or that everyone can do it.

  He was being stubborn. I growled at the empty room and forced myself to think rationally. I’m not saying everyone can do it. I’m suggesting in our case…

  Big difference here, Kathryn. Your brother likes guys and girls. I’ve only got the one preference. It’s not like I can just flip a switch because you think it sounds like a good idea.

  I didn’t have an argument for that. I know. I was just hoping… What? Trevor was right.

  Hoping it would be different with Evan? He’s still got the wrong body parts.

  But he’s your best friend. Wow, that was weak. I hated to admit defeat, but I couldn’t force either of them into this if they didn’t want it.

  Just because I hang out with the guy doesn’t mean I want him sucking me off.

  You’re right. I’m sorry.

  Me too.

  Was the conversation over? Did he expect me to say something else? He hadn’t given me a lot to go on. Several minutes passed without another response. Maybe I ruined any chance we had at finding common ground. Not that there ever had a chance, based on our exchange.

  A note buzzed through. What are we watching?

  I should tell him nothing, and that I needed to go, but I wasn’t ready to end things like that. Something classic. High action. And really corny.

  Captain Harlock?

  Maybe if we couldn’t have a romantic relationship, we could have a friendship. I sent back, Sounds great.

  We spent the next couple hours exchanging quips about how good or bad or just plain funny the movie was.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wednesday came and went without contact from Evan or Trevor, and I couldn’t ignore my disappointment, even if it was unreasonable. On Thursday, I decided it was ridiculous to wait for them, and sent them both a good morning :) Trevor replied with a similar message, but it hurt when I didn’t hear from Evan.

  Thursday afternoon, I finished up Aikido class, shouldered my duffel bag, and hovered at the edge of the floor mats, watching the next class. They guy teaching was a classmate of mine. He’d been doing this for years, like I had, and now he stood up there, in front of a group of pre-teens, taking them through their forms.

  I wanted to be doing that. Why wasn’t I? I had no right wishing Evan and Trevor would step up and recognize how they felt, if I wasn’t willing to do the same. I was happy to admit how I felt about them, but I was still holding back when it came to work. I set my bag aside and padded to the main office.

  My sensei—the guy who owned the dojo—looked up from his computer. “What’s up?”

  I twisted my fingers in on themselves, grabbed my will to do this from deep inside, and stood straighter. “I’d like another chance teaching.”

  He shook his head and turned back to whatever he was working on. “I’m sorry, Kathryn. You’re very talented. It’s obvious you love doing this, and you’ve learned a lot over the years. But you don’t have the kind of presence a teacher needs.”

  The words stung even more the second time around, and left my skin prickling. I shoved it aside and forced the confidence into my voice. “I don’t agree. I think I can do this.”

  Now I had his full attention. His brows
were half raised, his eyes wide. A combination of surprise and… hope? “You did poorly during your practical test,” he said.

  That was the part where I had to actually teach a class. “I know. It was a poor performance. I really think I can do better. Let me assist someone else, to prove it. Then if I do better, let me take on classes of my own?”

  He drummed his fingers on his keyboard, not compressing any keys, and then stood. “All right. One more chance. Do this, and I’ll let you start teaching classes. Follow me.”

  I fell into step behind him but almost stopped moving when he stepped up in front of the current class. He halted them and bowed. A dozen heads returned the polite gesture. “We have a special treat today,” he told them. “One of our black belts, Kathryn, is going to face off with your sensei. It will give you an idea of what you’ll be able to do if you keep at this.”

  All those faces turned in my direction, and a hot flush spread over my face. I gritted my teeth, locked my hesitation aside and stepped to the front of the class. I could do this; that was the point. What Jackson had told me bounced in my head. It didn’t matter how many people watched. Those who were going to talk would do so, no matter what. Besides, these kids were living life, like the rest of us.

  I bowed to my counterpart, and we both fell into defensive stances. A twitch from his foot, and the spar began.

  For the next five minutes, to the tune of gasps, claps, and oohs, we grappled, tumbled, and danced. The demonstration ended with me dropping him to the mat and pinning him until he tapped out. I helped him to his feet, we faced the class, and gave one more bow. Seconds later, the kids surrounded us, asking questions and talking over each other. They looked at me in awe, instead of disgust or amusement.

  Sensei stood at the far end of the mats. He gave me a small smile. “One week. You help with classes. Then we’ll see. Email me your schedule, and I’ll fit you in.”

  I wanted to squeal and clap and give him a thank-you hug, but I restrained myself. Instead I simply bowed. “You’ll have my schedule tonight. Thank you.”

  My mood increased another notch when I pulled my phone out on the way to my car. One missed call, from Evan. I dialed my voicemail and dropped into my vehicle.