by Angel Payne
True love.
Was it strong enough for the three of us now?
I wanted it to be. Desperately.
I loved Fletcher and Drake with every fiber of my being. My life wouldn’t be complete without them—both of them. I’d made peace with that tidbit last year when Drake had walked out on us.
But one thing was for certain. If we recovered from this mess with Fletcher—when we recovered—we were due for some effing great times. We. Were. Due. We’d served our cosmic sentence for whatever the universe thought we’d done wrong, and it was going to be our time to shine. It had to be.
I just had to keep believing.
Hoping, with just a shred of my soul…
I couldn’t take another trial like this.
The drive home was quiet. My remaining hours in Chicago were close to single digits, and the weight of that awareness pressed down on both Drake and me. A significant part of me wished I hadn’t issued the ultimatum to Fletcher, but my heart knew it was the right thing to have done.
“Want to get some take-out?” Drake broke the silence with small talk.
“Marcus probably left something for us. He’s been so good to us. What a gem.”
“You’re probably right. And the guy can really cook. Almost as good as my mom.”
I smiled when he mentioned his family. They’d been so kind to me when we’d visited, and in the weeks since the accident. His mom had even offered to come and stay to help with Fletcher, but Drake and I agreed the condo would get claustrophobic if we stretched the headcount much more. We barely had any privacy now with Marcus there all the time, but the trade-off was worth it. At least for the time being. Now that I was leaving, Drake would really need the help, and possibly the company.
Probably the company. Right now, he and Fletcher were tenants at the same address. If it were possible, my heart ached more for their broken friendship than our shattered relationship.
We stepped off the elevator about thirty minutes later and made our way toward the condo’s front door. But Drake didn’t unlock it. Suddenly, he whirled. Stabbed his hand behind my neck, compelling me closer to him. His firm lips pressed down on mine, bestowing the most tender, loving kiss he’d given me in some time. Though he didn’t demand entrance into my mouth, I gave it to him. I opened willingly, even greedily. I needed his taste, his strength, his essence…the surety of knowing that despite the hell I was about to plunge us all into, he still believed in heaven.
Because I still did. With my entire heart and soul…
When we finally parted, I looked up into his gorgeous midnight eyes. They were glassy with unshed tears. Another piece of my heart splintered away.
“Baby.” His voice was a hoarse whisper, thick with so much pain, too much longing. “Please. Please don’t leave me.”
“Drake.” I spoke it against his lips, lifting a hand to commit the shape of his face to memory once more. As if I’d ever forget. “Don’t make it harder than it already is. You know why I have to do this. I’m trying to save us…”
“I want to kill him. Honestly. I want to beat the living fuck out of him right now.” Misery became anger as his temper flared.
“Sssshhhh. He’s your brother. He needs you right now. You need to be patient with him.” I softened my voice, trying to soothe him like I would a spooked animal.
“I know. I know.” He nodded, exposing his clenched teeth. “But I’d much rather take it out of his hide.”
We were silent for long minutes. His rage bottomed out, leaving room for the despair to return. “I hate having to wrap my mind around this, I fucking hate the thought of waking up and not finding you bustling around the house. I can’t imagine going to bed at night and not smelling that flowery lotion you always use.” His voice cracked. The crimps in his forehead became dark furrows. “I can’t imagine my life without you, Talia. It’s killing me…” A lone tear got away from him. It glowed with reflected light from the wall sconce, the brilliance stabbing all the way down to my soul.
“I’ll come back the moment you call me.” I ran my fingertips along his cheek. “I promise. This isn’t the end of us. I’m trying to give us back a beginning.”
“I understand it all. I do. But it sucks. Hard.”
I kissed him again, not needing to debate about opening for him again. He conquered without asking this time, pressing me into the doorframe with his beautiful body. We gasped into each other when his erection pulsed against me, an evil tease of passion we wouldn’t be sating now.
“Fuck.” He dragged away, anguish washing his face in a ghostly white.
“It’s going to be okay,” I breathed out.
“I want to believe that.”
“Then do.”
A funny half-grin took over his lips, as if he inwardly muttered ‘what will I do with you?’ I shrugged impishly in return.
He kissed the back of my hand and opened the door.
I walked in.
And stopped at once.
“Errrr…Drake?”
“Yeah, ba—” He scuffed to a halt next to me. “Huh?”
Something was different in here.
No.
A lot of things.
The lights were out in the kitchen and living area, though at least a hundred small candles illuminated the room in a warm glow. I glanced again at Drake. His disbelieving stare confirmed this wasn’t his doing.
Something smelled amazing in the kitchen. I took a few more steps in that direction, to find more candles down the middle of the dining room table. Drake, Fletcher and I hadn’t eaten a meal there in months, but now it held three perfectly placed settings, crystal water glasses and matching champagne flutes. The tablecloth was pressed. Brocade napkins were stylishly tucked into hammered copper rings in the center of each plate.
The hair on the back of my neck suddenly stood at attention. An ineffable current pulsed in the room. Smooth jazz hummed in the background, but that wasn’t it. The music was barely audible past that buzzing in my ears. What the heck was that? It was familiar but different, like the smooth jazz version of 24k Magic playing through the speakers, only better. So much better.
My senses became hyperaware. All the pistons of my psyche seemed to be firing at once…an awakening of sorts. Stepping into bright sunshine. Bursting out of an ocean wave. Waking up from a bad dream…
My nerves fizzed like bubbles working through my bloodstream as something shifted in the doorway.
Not something.
Someone.
Drake and I swung to the right to find Fletcher standing between the doorjambs.
I nearly swallowed my tongue.
He was magnificent. Clean. Shaven. Hair cut much shorter than he’d ever worn. A smile graced his lips, confident and hopeful. His body, bordering on skinny because of all his muscle loss, was given extra volume with a pristine white button-front shirt tucked into dark navy slacks. He wore dress shoes to match.
My tongue was still missing. My breath joined it, catching in my throat. My head spun in giddy excitement.
He was back.
Really back.
I knew it in every drop of my blood. In every nerve ending I possessed. In the space of my mind no longer shrouded in shadows. It was filled with his brilliance. It vibrated with all of him. I was so happy. No. Wait. That was his happiness. I felt every one of his emotions again, as sure as my own.
My eyes widened. My heart exploded.
“Welcome home.” He stood as tall and proud as he had before the accident. He had to lean slightly against the doorframe for balance, but he was so stunning, all I saw was his perfection.
“I hope you guys haven’t had dinner. We have something special to celebrate tonight.” He lifted his sexy smile, melting my heart and panties in one fell swoop. I hadn’t seen that cocky, self-assured look on his face in so long, I’d underestimated its effect on my body. My entire body…
Next to me, Drake shifted. I looked in time to catch his curt nod of acquiescence. If Fletch
er was extending an olive branch, he was on board for grabbing on together.
We walked into the dining room. Drake pulled out a chair from the circular table, waiting for me to sit. When I had, he instantly scooted me closer. Fletcher claimed the seat to my right, closest to the kitchen. Drake sat so he could face the openness of the room. He almost always chose that position, a habit I’d learn to love about him. Always my strong protector. Fletcher was my romancing rogue, always choosing to sit with his back to the room in order to give us both his full attention.
Two men. So different, with so many idiosyncrasies inherent to their basic natures—but that was why their friendship worked. Why the three of us worked, too.
Their bond was still strong. I knew that for fact, since I could feel Fletcher’s half of it in my soul again. Drake wouldn’t stay mad forever, especially if Fletcher’s change of attitude stuck.
Fletcher poured champagne in my glass, then did the same to Drake’s. I passed the glasses to him so he wouldn’t have to stand. It was one thing for him to clean up physically and emotionally—dear God, we could only hope—but his body would take more time heal, and we all had to be patient with the process.
He grabbed a second bottle from the table and filled his glass with sparkling water. “None for me with the meds I’m taking. But we can work around the small details, right?” He gave me a quick wink then hoisted his glass in the air, waiting for Drake and I to follow suit.
“I’d like to make a toast.” He paused to gaze meaningfully at both of us. “To our anniversary.”
He pushed his toward the center so we could all clink brims. Drake and I reciprocated but didn’t sip when Fletch did. We threw puzzled glances to each other, then back to him.
“Our anniversary?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Yep.” He smiled. “This is the first day of the new us. Our brand-new start, which means putting all the crap behind us—and only looking toward tomorrow. I’m so damn happy to be here with both of you that I want to toast today—and every day that follows.”
With that, he dropped the smile, exposing his raw nerves. I felt every damn one of them—and loved him more for being brave enough to show them to us. He didn’t falter, even then. He just waited, pensive, glancing back and forth to both of us. I could only respond with a smile so wide it hurt. And yes…maybe a few more tears. I had dreamed of this moment so many times and it was finally upon us. It was finally, really, happening.
“To beginnings.” I tapped my glass to Fletcher’s once again. Let the tears slip down my face as Drake copied me.
“To beginnings.” He smiled at Fletcher as he uttered this time—and clearly meant it.
I was two seconds away from slamming my glass down and mauling the hell out of Fletcher, when he spoke earnestly again. “I’d like to make one more toast, if you’ll allow me?”
How could I deny him? I couldn’t count the moments when I’d despaired of that spark ever returning to his eyes. Now that it was back, I’d let him recite the Gettysburg Address as a toast if he wanted.
“I’d like to make a toast to the bond we share. The bond I share with you, my beautiful, smart, stubborn queen—and the bond I share with you, meathead, bastard, asshole…brother. My brother in every sense of the word. My best friend in this lifetime. In any lifetime.”
Silence fell over the room, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable pause. Just the opposite. It was a moment—our moment—to absorb what Fletcher had just said. To soak up the magic of our new beginning. To reaffirm the infinity of our perfect bond.
It was fitting that Fletcher finally spoke into the stillness. Tears filled his eyes, flowed down his cheeks, and wavered his voice. “I love the two of you so much. I’ve been an unbearable ass, and I’ve done nothing to deserve the happiness you both bring me. Nothing. I’m so deeply sorry for the pain and sadness I’ve brought into our home, but I want us to be us again. To be whole, to be happy. Please say you’ll forgive me.”
I pushed my chair back so fast it tumbled over backward, crashing to the hardwood floor. It could’ve fallen into a passage to hell for all I cared. I’d been there, done that, had the T-shirt. I never looked back as I flung myself into Fletcher’s arms, all but crawling into his seat with him.
“Please don’t leave me.” His words mashed against my lips as I kissed him. “Please don’t leave us tomorrow either, Tolly. I won’t be able to watch you go.”
“Let’s talk about that later. I think this one wants to say something, too.” I moved out of Fletcher’s embrace, sensing Drake still looming after he righted my chair. He stepped over, offering his hand to Fletch for a manly shake. Fletcher took it, but pulled himself to stand with the assistance of his best friend and wrapped him into a tight, grunting hug. It was the very first time I’d ever seen him accept help without cussing or growling.
New beginnings.
“Are we good, man?” I heard him choke out.
Drake backed away, nodded quickly then hauled Fletcher back in, doing the whole back-clapping thing this time. “Yeah, fucker. We’re good.”
“Who wants dinner?” Marcus appeared from the shadows at the perfect time to serve us dinner.
“Smells amazing,” Drake commented. “Lasagna?” He pumped a fist when Marcus lowered the dish, the cheese and sauce still bubbling along the top. “Yessss.”
“Marcus,” I chided. “You don’t have to wait on us.”
“It’s my pleasure, young lady. It’s the least I can do.” He truly had a servant’s heart.
“You’ve already done so much.” Warmth filled my voice.
“Thank you, friend.” Fletcher stopped his caregiver with a touch to his arm. “Seriously, thank you. For everything. You’ve put up with so much shit from me. You deserve a raise at the bare minimum.”
Marcus gently chuckled. “Well, you can tell my boss that.”
“Speaking of that…” Drake waited for Fletch to lower all the way back into his chair then stated, “I had a thought today.”
Fletcher snorted. “One more than you usually have.”
Drake arced a graceful middle finger at Fletcher but kept addressing the burly caregiver. “You can take some time with this, man—and I’m going rogue here, because I haven’t talked to them about it yet—but how would you like to leave the agency you’re with and work for us directly? You could live here in my old suite at the back of the condo, and we’ll work out a schedule so you could still have personal time. Talia and I have jobs we need to get back to, and it’s uncertain how long Fletcher is going to require help. You’ve proven your worth around the kitchen, that’s for sure, and maybe if you did some other household shit, it would be a win all around.”
I was tempted to knock over my chair again. As it was, I bopped up both hands, shimmying in place with excitement. “My name is Talia Perizkova and I approve of this message.”
“My name is Fletcher Ford and I do, too.”
I giggled and swooned in the same sweep of a moment. I’d missed my charming blond prince and his mischievous one-liners. In that luxurious shirt and that sharp new haircut, he looked more delicious than the lasagna. “Seriously”—back to business. I could start thinking of dessert later—“it’s an excellent idea, Drake. With Claire and Margaux going on maternity leave any second, I need to plug back in at work in a big way.” The possibility of getting back to the office every day excited me. Now, I could do it guilt-free, knowing Fletcher was in good hands.
“Yeah, that’s what got the wheels turning,” Drake explained. “Kil and I discussed it this afternoon at the gym. They need a contingency plan and up until Fletcher’s accident, you were a huge part of that plan.”
Marcus grabbed the bottle of champagne from the center of the table and held it up in a toast. “Then I want to make a toast to our new beginning, too!” We all laughed and clinked our glasses to the bottle he held, just before he put the thing to his lips, winked then put it back on the table. “Still on duty, after all.”
“Ok
ay, hold the phone—or that bottle, whichever’s closest.” I shot up a hand, interrupting the boisterous celebration. “I need to address one thing about this plan.”
The men sobered into silence, waiting for me to continue.
“Marcus, I’m not sure you’re aware of what’s going on here, with the three of us.” In one swoop of motion, I included Drake, Fletch and me. “Although things have been different than they normally are, and we’ve tried to be appropriate when you’re around you need to know a few things if you’re going to live here.” I met his gaze, trying to convey the gravity of what I was about to say. “You realize I’m in a relationship with both these men, right? We aren’t some strange Three’s Company reboot. I love them both. We share one bed. We share one love. In every form of the word.”
For a second, Marcus just blinked at me. He looked bewildered, but I didn’t know how to be any plainer without using clinical terms, and that sure as hell wasn’t going to happen.
“Uhhhh…” He threw that questioning stare to Drake and Fletcher. “Does she always stress the small stuff like this?”
The sellouts responded in unison—all too quickly, I might add—“Always.”
I smacked them simultaneously, one with my left hand and the other with my right, but they barely noticed. It was time for Marcus’s famous lasagna, which we invited him to enjoy with us. We ate our meal with gusto, excitedly talking about plans for the days to come—though I had the distinct feeling I wouldn’t have to worry about accepting a second helping of lasagna. Orgasms burned sixty to a hundred calories apiece. But while I looked forward to that new beginning in our life, this one was worth reveling in. Life had been breathed back into our world and it made me delirious with happiness.