Confessions: Robbie (Confessions Series Book 1)

by Ella Frank

  Logan’s eyes narrowed to slits, and when he took a step closer to him, Robbie stood his ground.

  “I told you that night because you were down on yourself,” Logan said, his hands going to his hips. “You thought they were jacking you around and I figured it would be a boost to your ego. I didn’t tell you so you would go and fling yourself into their arms.”

  “Well, thank you for that. But I’ve got news for you, Logan Mitchell,” Robbie said, jabbing a finger at him. “I don’t need you or anyone else boosting my ego. I wasn’t sad that night; I was pissed off because, yet again, the man I was interested in was in love with someone else. Sound familiar?”

  Robbie rubbed the back of his neck, and when Logan’s eyes softened, Robbie said, “Don’t. Don’t you dare feel sorry for me. God, that’s the last thing I need.”

  Logan opened his mouth to speak, but Robbie was already talking again.

  “When I got that voicemail from Tate on New Year’s telling me that you got married, I felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest.”

  Logan’s arms fell down to his sides, and as he stood there speechless, Robbie shook his head.

  “I was in shock. Complete and utter shock. And not because it was a surprise wedding or because I couldn’t imagine you married to Tate—I mean, come on, who couldn’t see that coming? But I was shocked to realize that after all this time, after all these years of knowing you were with him, I’d still been walking around with this misguided fantasy that one day, somehow, you would end up being mine.”

  Robbie licked his lips and laughed at himself, because now that he was saying it out loud, he realized just how ridiculous he sounded—but really, it was the truth.

  “It’s stupid, I know, and trust me, if you hadn’t just acted like the world’s biggest asshole, I wouldn’t be standing here baring my soul in such a totally humiliating way, but Logan,” Robbie said, and swallowed, trying to find the courage to say what he needed to. And when he looked into a face that was as close to perfect as Robbie had ever seen, he realized his eyes were blurring. Shit, he was crying. “For the first time in a long time, I’m really happy.”

  Silence swept over the room as they stared at one another, and then finally Logan spoke. “But they’re married.”

  “So what?” Robbie said. “I know that. They have never lied to me—not once. In fact, they’ve been more than up front. They’ve been cautious and careful, more so than anyone I’ve been with, yourself included. They’ve made sure from the very beginning that I knew exactly what they wanted, and you know what they want? Me.” Robbie wiped at the tear on his cheek. “Marriages fail all the time. People cheat. People become miserable. But Julien and Priest? Other than you and Tate, I’ve never seen two people more in sync with how they’re feeling. They’re honest with each other in ways I don’t think most people can be, and I love that. I respect it. And I want it. I want to see where this goes, because it feels good. They make me feel good. When I’m with them, I can be me and I feel safe. I feel special.” Robbie gnawed on his lip. “Regrets only happen when you aren’t brave enough to try something that scares you. I know that because I regret not feeling like I was enough for you, because God, Logan…I loved you. Or at least the idea of you.”

  “Robbie…” Logan said, his voice now full of emotion, and Robbie offered up a small, sad smile.

  “I don’t say that to make you feel bad. And I’m not saying it to put myself down. I’m saying it so you understand why I’m willing to take this risk.”

  Logan shut his eyes for a second, and when he reopened them, he reached out and took Robbie’s face between his hands. “I’m sorry.”

  Robbie blinked, taken off guard by the apology and how close they were standing. “It’s okay. You were shocked.”

  “Not about that,” Logan said. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way, back then.”

  When a tear escaped Robbie’s eye and rolled down his cheek, Logan swiped it away with his thumb. Then he pressed a kiss there that was soft and sweet and made another tear fall.

  “I don’t want to see you get hurt,” Logan said, and Robbie closed his eyes again, unable to look into Logan’s stunning blue ones.

  “I don’t want that either. But that could happen with anyone.” Robbie reached for Logan’s wrists. “You were the best first love a boy could ask for, Mr. Mitchell. Thank you.”

  Logan’s full lips quirked up at the sides. “It was my pleasure.”

  “It was, wasn’t it?”

  Logan chuckled and nodded. “Yes, it was. But really…Priest? You hate that guy.”

  At the baffled look on Logan’s face, Robbie let out a loud bark of laughter. “I know, right? But he’s…”

  “Yes?” Logan asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “He’s so different once you get to know him, and with Julien he’s…” Robbie remembered the way Priest had looked after the both of them yesterday and last night, and sighed. “He’s wonderful.”

  “Wow.” Logan started to laugh. “Now I’ve heard everything. Next you’ll be telling me this French Prick is really a kitten.”

  “Actually,” Robbie said, pursing his lips, and Logan held a hand up.

  “I don’t need the details. I just want to know that you’re…happy.”

  Robbie nodded and leaned in to kiss Logan’s cheek. “I am. But you know what would make me really happy?”

  “Am I going to regret asking?” Logan said when Robbie moved away from him toward the door.

  “No, because I’m going to mend your work relations.” When Logan raised a brow, Robbie put his hands on his hips. “Come and make up with Priest.”

  “We aren’t teenage girls, Robbie. We’ll cool off and be fine.”

  “Logan…” Robbie said. “You said you wanted me to be happy.”

  “Fine,” Logan grumbled, and walked over.

  “Good, then you can tell me all about the island Tate whisked you off to and kept you prisoner on.”

  Logan stopped short. “How do you know that’s what he did?”

  “Wow, you really did get stuck into the champagne at your wedding. Tate said so on the voicemail.”

  “Oh,” Logan said as they walked out of his office and headed toward Priest’s. “We went to St Lucia. It was heaven on earth.”

  Robbie’s heart swelled with happiness at the blissful expression on Logan’s face. He knocked on Priest’s door and heard, “Come in,” and they pushed it open to reveal the serious man with the flame for hair and steel for eyes, and Robbie wondered if he was wearing the exact same expression as Logan. Because right now, he felt about as blissful as one could feel.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  CONFESSION

  I truly believe that what is meant to be

  will always find a way.

  LATER THAT NIGHT, after his shift at The Popped Cherry, Robbie found himself standing in his nonna’s kitchen. It was the first time he’d been home since the accident, and the once bright and lively space was now cast in shadows, as the moonlight slipped through the curtains.

  He still couldn’t believe how much his life had changed over the course of a week. First, he’d started to date, really date, two men. And as if that wasn’t mind-blowing enough—among other things being blown—one was the gorgeous celebrity chef he’d spent most of his twenties fantasizing about, and the other was Joel Priestley, the man who had set him on edge from the minute they’d met. He’d just never known why.

  But now he knew. Priest saw him. He saw Robbie the minute he stepped into view, and from that moment, he’d been watching and waiting for Robbie to stop running. To stop being so scared of taking a risk.

  As he stood there looking around the room where he’d shared many meals with Nonna, Robbie felt his heart tighten. Things could’ve been so much worse; he knew that. He’d seen on Julien’s face last night that something much worse had happened to him, and he’d survived—if not a little bit broken for it.

  But his ma and nonna wer
e right: there was no point in dwelling on what-ifs. He could do that all night, but it was time to move forward. He had no choice, really. Nonna needed to sell the house, and that meant he needed to move out—and that brought him back to the one sentence that had been on a loop in his head all through work.

  “We would like to invite you to come and stay with us.”

  Priest and Julien’s offer. One Robbie had immediately dismissed as too fast and too much, insanity, and declined. But what about any of this was sane? Nothing about their relationship would ever be considered normal, so why was he so scared of this? What was he waiting for? Hadn’t he been the one to tell his ma, to tell Logan, that he was happy? That he wanted this relationship?

  Yes, he had been, and it was true. He did want it.

  Robbie wanted Julien’s smile directed at him, that dimple of his sneaking out to play, making his face impossibly sexier. Robbie wanted Priest’s ever-seeing eyes and serious expression fixed on him as though trying to learn everything he possibly could, because he was interested. Robbie wanted to eat Julien’s food and tell him how delicious each bite was just to see how much it pleased him. And Robbie wanted to kneel by Priest’s tub and serve him in any damn way that man wanted him to.

  He was in deep. Robbie knew that. And even though it was late—early, really—he knew what he wanted to do next. It was a risk, that was for sure, but he knew he’d regret it if he didn’t take it.

  THE SOUND OF Priest’s phone vibrating on the side table had him and Julien stretching beneath the covers in the early hours of the morning. They’d both finally drifted off after dinner, where Priest had filled Julien in on the whole Robbie/Logan situation at the office.

  As it turned out, Logan had—under much duress, and the watchful eyes of Robbie—apologized for his initial reaction. But he said he stood by his initial threat of dismemberment if they hurt Robbie, whether Robbie liked their balls or not.

  Priest had also given Julien the time for their flight the following week and let him know he got a third ticket, so he needed to have a talk with Robbie sooner rather than later.

  “Dieu,” Julien mumbled, as Priest rolled over to reach for his phone. “What time is it?”

  “Just turned one,” Priest said, as he picked up his cell to check who was calling. The number on his screen had him sitting up in the bed and reaching for the lamp. “Shit.”

  “What is it?” Julien said, as he squinted against the bright light now filling the room. Priest rubbed a hand over his face as he stared at the number on the screen. It was a 504 number—New Orleans—and there was only one person who lived there he knew. Two, actually. But one he wished was dead, so he only counted the one.

  “Joel,” Julien said, sitting up. “What is it?”

  Priest didn’t know, but if he was getting a call at one in the morning from there, he knew it wasn’t anything good. As a voicemail lit his phone up next, he stared at it like he was looking down the barrel of a loaded gun.

  “Joel.” Julien’s voice was now background noise to the blood rushing around Priest’s head, as he pushed back the covers and got out of bed, bringing the phone up to his ear.

  As he stood at the window, looking out at the buildings surrounding their condo, a man’s deep, accented voice came through the phone.

  “Priest? It’s Henri.”

  Ice seemed to form in Priest’s veins as he stood there with his arm frozen in place. He didn’t hear Julien get out of bed. Didn’t hear the knock on their front door. He was too busy trying to process what he was hearing.

  “I know it’s late,” Henri said. “But you gave explicit instructions to call if any news regarding Jimmy came to light.”

  Julien’s hand on his back made Priest startle, and when he looked at him, Julien’s eyes narrowed. “What’s going on? Who called?”

  When Priest said nothing, Julien glanced at the cell still plastered to his ear, and the knocking started up again.

  “Someone’s at our door,” Julien said. “Let me go check and then—”

  “No,” Priest barked out, and grabbed Julien’s arm, flashes of Jimmy, and all those he associated with him, bringing all of Priest’s protective instincts to the forefront.

  “Joel, what’s the matter?”

  He pressed the phone back to his ear as the message looped and played again. “A rumor surfaced today that Big Jimmy’s up for parole but I didn’t want to contact you unless I knew it was fact.” Priest’s palms grew sweaty and his heart beat so hard that it felt as though it was going to punch through his chest and land at his feet. “My team is still working out details, but it seems he’s cooperating with the Feds, Priest. After all this time, he’s agreed to give them a name if they give him a free pass to walk for time served.”

  This can’t be happening, Priest thought, as he willed himself to keep listening. This can’t fucking be happening. How…why would they ever let that monster free?

  As the message ended, Priest shut the voicemail, not wanting to hear it a third time, but then his phone lit up again making him jolt. He looked at it, and this time what he saw made him feel as though he were going mad. It was a text in the group thread.

  Robbie: I know it’s late but I can’t sleep, and I thought if you were up maybe we could NOT sleep together. He’d added a smiley face and then wrote, I’m at your front door.

  Robbie—it was Robbie at their front door, not— Fuck.

  “Go,” Priest said to Julien, who was still looking at him as though he’d grown three heads. “It’s Robert.”

  “Who did you think it was?” Julien asked, as he walked to the door of the bedroom and Priest scrubbed his hand over his face as he moved over to the bed. He needed to sit, or he might fall the fuck down.

  As he sat down on the edge of the mattress, Priest stared at his phone as though it were a bomb about to explode in his hand. Because for a moment there he’d thought it might’ve been, “My father.”

  JULIEN HAD NEVER seen Priest so shaken in all the time he’d known him. But as he sat on the edge of their bed he’d gone as white as their sheets, and his hands were shaking. Julien knew all about Priest’s father. In fact, the whole country knew the details of Priest’s nightmare of a childhood—they just didn’t know the little boy who’d lived it was Priest. But from birth to age seven, that poor little boy had lived in constant fear. The kind of fear that made a grown man unable to sleep. The kind of fear that made the most controlled man come undone.

  “I’m fine, Julien. I just need—” Priest’s words broke off as he got to his feet and moved toward the bathroom. He was about as far from fine as they were from the moon. “I need to focus so I can think. Go and let Robert in before he changes his mind.” Julien knew Priest meant both for the night and about them.

  Merde, what was in that message? The last Julien had heard, Priest’s father was in jail for a long, long time.

  With his stomach in knots, Julien turned and headed down to the front door, and when he reached it and pulled it open, Robbie—beautiful, fresh-faced Robbie—stood in the hallway with a suitcase, an overnight bag, and two smaller ones in his hands, and a smile so sweet that Julien wanted to pull him into his arms and never let him go.

  “You told me the offer would stay open,” Robbie said, and raised the two bags in his hands and flashed a shy grin. “I know it’s late, but I had work, and…”

  Baggage, Julien thought, his eyes moving to all the baggage surrounding Robbie’s feet. Yes, we all come with baggage. But as he and Priest had recently discussed, they came with rack-loads.

  Before Julien could think of anything to say, Robbie’s smile fell and he dropped his bags to the floor. He stepped forward, reaching for Julien’s hands, and the blue eyes that had been twinkling seconds ago turned serious and concerned.

  “What is it?” Robbie said. “Are you having another panic attack? Let me get you inside, find you a place to sit. I can get you some water.”

  Julien shook his head. “Non. I’m fine, princesse.�
��

  But he knew who wasn’t, and he knew who could help him. Robbie was the one who could refocus the man currently spinning out of control.

  “Priest,” Julien said. “Priest would really love to see you right now.”

  Robbie’s eyes narrowed slightly, confusion etched into his expression.

  “He got some…troubling news tonight, and I know he would love to see you.”

  Robbie went to pick up his suitcase, but Julien touched his fingers to his hand. “It’s okay. I’ll get your bags,” he said. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

  Robbie gnawed on his lower lip and nodded. “Are you sure I should go in there? I know I should’ve called before I came over, but I couldn’t sleep and I know that sometimes he can’t. So I thought I could keep him company…I guess I took a risk.”

  “You did. But it was the right thing to do, princesse. He would love nothing more than your company right now, believe me,” Julien said, and kissed Robbie’s cheek. “You came at exactly the right time.”

  As Robbie walked off down the hall, Julien thought, not for the first time, that destiny had a way of giving you exactly what you needed when you most desperately needed it. And tonight, destiny had brought Robert Bianchi to their door, exactly when they needed him the most.

  Coming Soon

  The second book in Robbie, Julien & Priest’s

  Confessions Series.

  CONFESSIONS: JULIEN

  Coming May 2018

  Thank You

  Thank you for reading

  CONFESSIONS: ROBBIE

  I hope you enjoyed the beginning of Robbie, Julien & Priest’s journey. If you did, please consider leaving a review on the site you purchased the book from. The men would be MOST grateful.

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