When Rivals Love

by Beck, J. L.

  “I’ll help her with her homework,” Banks cuts in his blue eyes blazing. “She’ll be fine.”

  Mr. Clarkson’s eyes narrow, and it seems like he wants to say something else, but instead, presses his lips into a firm line. He stares at me for a long second before speaking again.

  “Very well, then. I expect your grades to be up in the coming weeks. I’ll see you next week,” he says while closing his laptop.

  I take that as my cue to go, and hastily leave the room holding my breath along the way. Only after I’ve taken a few steps into the hallway do I release the burning air in my lungs and suck in an even larger breath of oxygen.

  “Hey, wait up. Are you okay?” Banks calls after me.

  “I’m fine,” I gasp, my lungs still burning as I lean against the nearest wall, my body swaying like a building during an earthquake. “I just couldn’t stand the smell of his cologne. It was so strong, he smelled like he poured the whole bottle on himself.”

  “Are you sure that’s it?” Banks eyes me wearily, “Because you look like if the wall wasn’t holding you up that you’d be on the ground.”

  Letting my eyes fall closed, I focus only on my breathing for a moment. Once my chest has stopped rising and falling like I’ve run a mile, and my stomach isn’t churning anymore, I open my eyes again. When I do, I find Banks has boxed me in with his body, his muscled arms frame my face, and suddenly my pulse starts to race for an entirely different reason. My cheeks heat at the indecent thoughts filling my mind.

  Him taking me against the wall.

  Me calling his name out as he brings me to orgasm over and over again….

  “Is this too much for you?” Banks’ husky voice fills my ears and interrupts my thoughts. He’s staring at me with a hunger that only I can quench, and I want him, even now, right here in the middle of the hallway. Then it hits me, he asked me a question…

  “God, no… this is… I feel better already,” I whisper, just before his lips descend on mine, making any discomfort I felt moments ago vanish into thin air. He kisses me with so much love like I am the earth, and he is the sun. Like I’m his first taste of water after months of drought.

  When he pulls away, I whimper and grip on to his shirt, wanting to keep him close.

  “That’s not what I mean, baby. I mean, me, my brothers, is all of this too much for you? All this shit with Tiffany, with our parents and yours. No one, including me, has stopped to ask how you’re handling all of this. If you’re okay?” He whispers the last part, his hot breath fanning against my lips as he pushes his forehead against mine.

  This close I’m simply breathing him in, soaking him up like a sponge.

  “Of course, I’m okay. I’ve wanted this, wanted each of you for so long, and I don’t want to give you guys up. You’re all I have left. You’re the only people who care about me, who don’t try and control me.”

  Banks’ tongue dips out of his mouth and on to his full bottom lip, and all over again, my thoughts shift.

  “If this ever becomes too much for you, I want you to tell me. Please, Harlow…” The desperation in his voice reaches inside me and sinks its claws into my heart.

  “You’ll never have to worry about that because it will never be too much for me. You and your brothers are all I want. All I’ll ever need.”

  Banks stares at me for a long moment, his ocean blue gaze piercing my soul, fracturing it. He looks as if he doesn’t believe me, and the thought of that kills me. It makes me want to die a slow and painful death. He has to know that I mean what I’m saying. My heartbeat thunders in my ears, drowning out every other sound around me.

  “I love you. You believe me, don’t you? That this isn’t too much? That I want you and your brothers?” Air stills in my lungs while I await his response.

  “I do believe you, and I love you too.” His voice is soft, softer than normal, and when he presses a kiss to my forehead, it seems like everything is going to be okay. Taking my hand into his, we walk out of the building, and I feel a little better with every step I take. I don’t know what’s going on with me lately, but I need to figure it out. The dizziness, fatigue, and vomiting. None of it is normal, but after everything we’ve already been through, the last thing I want to do is add more to our already overflowing pot.

  A smile pulls at my lips when the high hanging sun meets my skin. The warmth radiates through me, leaving me feeling warm all over. I can’t wait to get home and relax with my guys, curled up on the couch, where no one can judge us or look down on us just for loving each other. When we are at home, it’s just us, and that’s the way I prefer it to be.

  As we head to the car, we pass a group of people standing outside the library. Immediately, I recognize Tiffany’s annoying giggle. I try to ignore her, but still can’t help but glance over there. What I see has me stopping dead in my tracks.

  Sullivan is standing with Tiffany and her friends. Even worse, he seems to be talking to them, saying something that made her giggle. What the hell?

  I turn to Banks and find him staring daggers at his brother. He wraps his arm around me a little tighter than necessary, and I lean into his touch, seeking much-needed comfort. I don’t know why Sullivan would do that, talk to her, befriend her, but I know that I can’t stand here and watch this. I need to get away. I have to.

  Luckily, Banks has the same idea. With his arm around me like a security blanket, he walks me to the parking lot, my legs move on their own, and when we get to the car, Banks helps me into the passenger seat.

  “What the hell was he doing?” I ask when Banks gets into the driver’s seat.

  “I don’t know, but he can ride home with Oliver,” he grunts angrily. “Or he can stay here, for all I care.”

  We drive to the house in silence, every time I glance over to Banks, his face is set in stone, and he’s gripping onto the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles are completely white. I almost wish he wasn’t so angry about it. I wish he would tell me that it was nothing, that Sullivan would never go behind my back. Seeing Banks so upset about this only makes this whole thing worse.

  When we pull into the driveway and Banks cuts the engine, we don’t get out right away. Banks take a few deep breaths like he is trying to calm himself before he opens his mouth to speak. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be angry. I mean, I am angry, but not at you. I don’t want to let my anger out on you. I don’t know what the fuck Sullivan was thinking, but it really pisses me off seeing you hurt. You’ve been hurt enough, and it’s our job to prevent you from being hurt any further.” I’m still mad at Sullivan, but having Banks tell me this, has me feeling a whole lot better.

  “Maybe it wasn’t what it looked like. Let him come home and explain himself before we jump to any conclusions,” I suggest, and Banks nods in agreement.

  “In the meantime, we do have the house all to ourselves for the next two hours.” A mischievous grin spreads across his face. “What could we possibly do with all that free time?”

  The mood inside the car turns swiftly. All concerns disappear and are replaced with an aching need to go inside and get undressed.

  “Mhm, I’m not sure. Let’s go inside and think of something. You know how I can think best?” I ask, tapping my chin.

  “How is that?” Banks asks with a grin.

  “Naked.”

  8

  When Oliver and Sullivan walk through the door, Banks and I have just finished putting dinner together. The whole time we’ve been waiting, my emotions have been all over the place. I try not to interpret the scene I witnessed earlier wrongly; I want to talk to Sullivan before I give it any more thought.

  “Hey, guys,” I greet them, forcing a smile on my face.

  “Hey, beautiful,” Oliver says with a grin, walking up to me and kissing my cheek.

  “Hey,” Sullivan mutters, walking up to me next. He places a chaste kiss on my other cheek. I expect him to say something more, anything more, to explain himself, maybe even apologize. But he does none of those thi
ngs. Instead, he grabs a soda from the fridge and turns his back to me. Literally and figuratively. Part of me is screaming inside, telling me that I should say something, anything.

  “I’m going to head to bed,” Sullivan says, out of thin air, and my hands clench into tight fists. Of course, you are.

  “You’re not gonna eat?” Oliver questions.

  Sullivan shakes his head. He can’t even lift his head to look at his brother as he speaks.

  “Nah, I don’t feel good. I’ll see you all in the morning.”

  “No fucking way,” Banks yells, causing everyone to look his way. Anger spills out of him as he lifts a closed fist, slamming it down on to the marble island. “You’re going to explain to us, but more importantly, to Harlow, what the hell you were doing with Tiffany earlier?”

  “What?” Oliver’s eyes widen in shock. My throat tightens as I await Sullivan’s answer. He still loves me, right? He still wants this? Us? All these questions hang on the edge of my tongue, but I just don’t have the courage to ask them.

  “I wasn’t doing anything,” Sullivan answers defensively. His eyes swing around the room before coming to a stop on mine. In his blue depths, I see despair and anger, “Just talking. Am I not allowed to talk to anyone anymore?”

  “Jesus, what the fuck, dude?” Oliver yells, his carefree, happy mood changing with every second that ticks by.

  “Just calm down, I wasn’t doing anything wrong. You’re blowing this whole thing up!” He growls, waving us off before walking out of the room. I listen to his footsteps as they recede into the other room and then up the stairs. My mind is blown, my heart shattered. What is going on, and how in the world am I going to fix it? Is Sullivan really befriending the one person who hates me most?

  Tears well in my eyes, but I blink them away. Crying isn’t going to do me any good right now. Banks curses under his breath and follows behind him, only to return minutes later.

  Banks stomps into the kitchen, “He locked his door and is refusing to open it.” I don’t understand. How did we get here? I thought everything was good. I thought we were all happy. I must be wearing my emotions on my face because a moment later, Banks is at my side, his arm wrapping around me, “If you want me to, I can go back up there and kick the door in, but I don’t think it’s going to do any good.”

  I shake my head, “No. If he wants to talk, he’ll talk. We can’t make him do something he doesn’t want to do, and if what he says is true, then there isn’t anything more for him to say.”

  “Would someone tell me what the hell happened?” Oliver’s gravelly voice pierces my ears, and I look over at him, nearly having forgotten he was in the room.

  “It’s nothing,” I answer because honestly, the last thing I want to do is rip the brothers apart. They’re brothers. They should be there for each other, not be at one another’s necks.

  “It’s not nothing,” Banks objects, “it’s a big fucking deal, especially because it involves Tiffany.”

  Oliver looks between us, bewilderedly, “What did he do?”

  Before I can shut him up, Banks is talking again. “We saw Sullivan, Tiffany, and her friends standing outside the library earlier. He was just standing there talking to them, and though it seems harmless, it’s wrong. After everything she did to Harlow, after all the things she said, and continues to say.”

  I can practically feel the steam rolling off of Banks.

  Oliver just stares at both of us, drinking up every word that his brother gives him.

  “I’ll talk to him. I’ll figure out what the hell is going on.” The gusto in his voice gives me hope. If anyone could talk some sense into Sullivan, it would be his oldest brother, but even if he does, it doesn’t really change anything. Sullivan still made the choice to converse with Tiffany, and I can feel him pulling away from me. Putting distance between us.

  Oliver dishes up the meal, and the boys dig in, but all I do is stare down at my plate.

  We’re all supposed to be sitting down to eat, but instead of being together, it feels like we’re falling apart, and there isn’t any way I can stomach a meal with the way I’m feeling right now. Not with the amount of distance and tension between us all tonight.

  “I think I’m just gonna head to bed,” I say, shoving the food on my plate around with a fork.

  “You sure? You haven’t eaten anything,” Banks says, placing his hand on my arm.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just want to go to sleep and let this day be over with.” Hopefully, tomorrow will be a better one.

  “Why don’t you two go on to bed. I’ll clean this up and join you in a few,” Oliver suggests with a smile, and I’m all for that. Banks nods and gets up with me. Together we climb the stairs and enter his bedroom.

  He sets me on the bed and helps me undress before undressing himself. I’m so upset I can’t even fully enjoy the little striptease he’s giving me. When we are both mostly naked, he climbs on the bed and pulls me down next to him. Spreading the blanket over us, he tucks me into his side, and I bury my face into his chest. He smells like soap and man. Slowly his body heat seeps into mine, and I relax deeper into the mattress.

  I’m almost asleep when the door creaks open, and light from the hallway spills over into the room. I glance up, hoping it might be Sullivan after all, he’s never gone to bed without saying goodnight to me first. When I see that it’s Oliver instead, a slight wave of disappointment washes over me, and my heart stills in my chest.

  Why is he doing this?

  I try to push it away, the pain, the anger. I try to be happy that Oliver is here, as he climbs into the bed and lies down next to me. As he wraps his arm around me and cuddles me. I know I’m being ridiculous and spoiled.

  Here I am with two guys, two men that love me, but still, I can’t be happy about it because I’m missing a third. Sullivan is meant to be here, and without him, it feels like there is a huge piece of who I am, who we are, missing.

  I just can’t help it… no matter how much Oliver and Banks mean to me, I don’t feel complete unless I have Sullivan too. Having him pull away from me… away from us, it hurts. It hurts more than anything else I’ve been through thus far.

  * * *

  The next two days aren’t any better, unfortunately. Sullivan seems isolated and cut off from his brothers, and I. Annoyance slowly turns to jealousy as I try and figure out why he’s changed so suddenly. One minute everything was fine, and the next, he’s avoiding me at every turn. He doesn’t even look at me anymore, and if I try and speak to him, he pretends as if he hasn’t heard me. It’s like he is actively trying to distance himself from me.

  All morning, I was looking forward to our afternoon class together, hoping that maybe then he would talk to me, but as I sit in the classroom waiting for him, the seat next to me remains empty. Of course, he would ditch me.

  Chewing on the end of my pencil, I look around the class absentmindedly, because let’s face it, I won’t be able to concentrate on anything written on the whiteboard anyway. When nothing inside the classroom holds my interest, I let my gaze wander to the windows.

  For the next few minutes, I let mother nature calm my mind a little as I watch how the wind makes the leaves dance in the trees. I’m finally starting to breathe a little better, the ache in my chest easing a bit when my gaze catches on something in the distance.

  For a moment, I just stare, my mood souring as I watch Tiffany walk out of the building across the street and down across the lawn. When I spot Sullivan walk up and greet her, that sour mood turns to red hot anger.

  Leisurely, he strolls beside her, as if they’re the best of friends. Of course, I can’t hear what she is saying, but from her body language, I can tell that they are having a friendly conversation… too friendly when it comes to her. Maybe I wouldn’t react this strongly if it was somebody else… anybody else. But Tiffany? It feels like a thousand tiny knives are stabbing at my heart right now.

  He skipped class with me to meet up with her?

 
Jealousy burns through me, rushing to the surface, leaving a bitter taste on the tip of my tongue. Unshed tears sting my eyes as I gather up all my stuff and shove everything inside my bag. I can’t do this right now. Not ever actually. The professor briefly glances up at me but doesn’t say anything as I get up and start descending the steps. I can feel eyes on me as I reach the doors and escape the confines of the room.

  By the time I make it down the hall, the tears have started to fall, each one leaving a stain against my cheek. My vision goes blurry, either from all the tears or something else. Before I can grasp what is happening, my head is spinning, or maybe it’s the world around me. I can’t really tell. It feels like I’m on a roller coaster, my body going up and down, up and down.

  On autopilot, I reach into my back pocket and fish out my phone. Unlocking it, I scroll to Oliver’s number. With my eyes closed, I hold the phone to my ear and wait for Oliver’s voice to fill my ear. The sound of his voice instantly calms me, grounds me, reminds me that everything is going to be okay.

  “Can you come and get me,” I ask, breathlessly. “Building eleven.”

  “Is everything okay?” I can hear the concern etched into his vocal cords.

  “Yeah, can you please just come get me.” The floor sways beneath my feet, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on.

  “Of course, I’ll be right there.” He hangs up before I can say anything else, and all I can do is hope that I’ll be okay, that everything will be okay. Because if it isn’t, I’m not sure what I’ll do.

  9

  “You need to tell us, right fucking now, what you were doing with Tiffany?” Oliver speaks through his teeth, greeting Sullivan as soon as he enters the living room. Of course, my body starts to physically ache when our eyes lock. His brows pinch together with worry as he looks between his brothers and me. Oliver is next to me on the couch, Banks on the other side, both of them are holding on to me, holding me together.