I inhale deeply and let it out slowly, bracing myself for his response to my next question. “Do you think you could feel that way about Sandy?”
Greg’s neck flexes with a swallow that must have felt like a gulp, and his knuckles whiten as his grip on the table intensifies. “You’re playing with fire, Tyler,” he says, and I know he means business because he’s switched to using my full name. “Don’t you think that girl has been through enough? You want to confuse the shit out of her too? Confuse and insult her?”
“You don’t understand. Her friends share men. It’s not a big deal to her.”
“Some of my friends are banged up for killing a man, chopping him into pieces, and dumping his parts in dumpsters around town. Doesn’t mean I want to live the same life.”
“Yeah, but she went into a long spiel about all the pros. She was supposed to get introduced to these rancher cousins of her friend’s husbands. When she told me that, she didn’t sound angry at the idea.”
“Maybe she was just telling you this stuff to shock you or to make you jealous. Maybe the part about the cousins was made up just to hurt you.”
“Sandy’s not like that.” Or at least she wasn’t. I’m not the same man I was before either, so should I be expecting Sandy to be? Greg spoons another mouthful of cereal while I sweat over the viability of my own idea. Then I realize that he never answered my question.
“Maybe she has changed. Maybe she made the whole thing up. I guess I won’t know until I have this conversation with her. What I need to know is would you want to share her with me?”
His nostrils flair like an annoyed bull. “What the fuck are you asking me, Tyler? Would I fuck your woman? Would you want that? Man to man, Tyler. This is your girl. Not just any girl either. And you think you could share her with me?” His arms raise at his sides, aiming to show off the full extent of the man he is. His huge, inked biceps bulge, and the broadness of his chest is enhanced.
He’s a massive man.
A massive man who I’m inviting to put his hands on my girl. I get what he is trying to do, but it’s not going to work. He thinks the idea of Sandy touching him, kissing him, fucking him should be something that fills me with bitter jealousy, but it’s not like that. Knowing she’d be in good hands, hands more reliable than mine, would only be a relief.
Eye to eye, something deep and fucking heartfelt passes between us. I blink, deciding my next words carefully, knowing I have this one chance to convince him of what I already know deep in my marrow. “You’re my brother in every way but blood. I’d give my life for you. I’d share the love of my life with you. And if anything happens to me…”
Greg’s hand shoots up to halt me before I finish. “What the fuck is going to happen to you, T? Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“No. There’s nothing I’m not telling you. I broke this girl once, G. I won’t bring her back into my life without knowing she’d be in good hands if something happened to me. I know enough to know how fickle life can be. There’s no certainty, or at least, I can’t pretend that I believe there is.”
The cereal bowl is shunted across the table by Greg’s huge, tattooed hand. The word HATE is emblazoned across his knuckles, the word LOVE missing from the other fist. He told me once that when he got it inked onto his skin, he didn’t believe there was anything other than HATE that would ever touch him. I’d like to think he’s changed his mind since we all ended up together as a makeshift family, but deep down, I know he needs to feel the love of a woman to make him truly believe.
Sandy’s touch did that for me.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his palms shaping into fists big enough to kill with a single punch. “You think these are good hands, T?”
It’s not the first time that I realize that most of Greg’s fierce exterior has been crafted to cover something softer and a whole lot more vulnerable.
“Of course. There’s no one I’d trust more.” And it’s true. Even though Greg is the only one of my boys who’s seen the inside of the pen, he’s the one I know would fight to his last breath to keep Sandy safe. The rest are good strong men with big hearts, but Greg is ride or die. He’s been to the brink and come back again. I need him on Sandy’s team.
Greg’s neck swallows around nothing again, or maybe it’s around something this time. I’d like to think it’s a lump of positive emotions because that’s what I’ve got wedged in my throat right now too. He shakes his head as though he can’t believe the conversation we’re having, or his own thoughts.
“I’d share your girl with you, T. If she’d have me, that is.”
I grin at my friend, who looks more like a thug or a criminal than a man you’d entrust the love of your life to. “The universe sent her back to me, G. On the day of her friend’s wedding. If this is fate at play ‘if’ won’t come into it.”
10
SANDY
The bed is empty when I awake to the heavy thump of vehicle doors closing. Tyler's curtains are awesome at keeping out the sun, and from the groggy feeling in my head, I'm pretty sure that I've slept for longer than I usually do.
Sex used to do that to me, or at least the mind-blowing, soul-shattering orgasms that only Tyler could ever yank from my body. And sleeping next to him too. There used to be so much comfort in having his body next to mine, and surprisingly, it was still the same after so many years and so much pain.
I run my hands over my face as my mind flitters over what's going to happen today. Tyler will probably want to talk. Or maybe not. Maybe he came to sleep next to me without touching me to let me know that cares, but not enough to be more with each other again.
Maybe he just needed time to think about what he wants to say.
Maybe it's all a huge mistake to him.
A huge mistake to both of us.
Ugh. I need to use the bathroom and take a shower. There's no way I'm padding around a house filled with men with semen-encrusted satin shorts and a cami that's been torn in a frenzy. It's not the only thing that feels a little torn. Between my legs there's an unfamiliar feeling, the ghost of a cock that penetrated too fast and felt too good.
A bubble of emotion rises in my chest, but I suck in a quick breath and push it back down. It's something I've become an expert in. Inside me, there are so many feelings I have to keep closed away. Feelings, and secrets that need to be kept.
One of Tyler's shirts rests over the back of a chair, and I tug it over my arms, breathing in the scent of him that makes me lightheaded and heavy-boned all at the same time.
When I'm clean and presentable, I pad down the stairs and into the kitchen, wondering if I'm alone. It's 10 am, so well after the time – I'm assuming – Tyler and his friends need to be at work. Except, just as I'm about to fix myself some coffee, awkward as hell about making myself at home here, footsteps sound in the hallway. The thud of my heart, expecting Tyler behind me, is deep and anxious. When I turn, I find that it's Greg instead.
I'm anxious for a different reason.
Of all the men in this house, Greg has the most intense air about him. There's power in his body and a forcefulness to his presence that concentrates into an imposing air that sends a shiver up my spine.