Theirs (11 page)

He rolled his eyes, eliciting an amused smile from me.

I leaned in and kissed her. She didn’t hesitate, quickly taking over, commanding my mouth like an expert. It wasn’t long before warmth began to settle over me, particularly at my apex.

This time, my shudder was for a completely different reason as I broke away from Ellie’s lips. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was that lured me to her. Yes, she was gorgeous, but that wasn’t it. There was this fire, this spirit about her. You saw the mischief sparkling in her eyes on some level; you knew she could wreak havoc, yet that’s also what drew you to her. She didn’t hold back. I sensed that she would have me venturing to places I’d never been and had never considered.

And right when she was going to push me too far, Jerry would step in as the voice of reason, as my protector.

I smiled, lying against Ellie as I gazed at Jerry. In many ways, this all seemed like a dream. I was a world away from the reality I was used to, and was a world away from the Kate I’d settled into, the Kate who had a boring routine that was only spiced up by a crazy guy. Donovan had been my last date, and Juan Carlo was the last man I’d slept with, four years ago.

Jerry pulled the car into the garage. Once parked, he was out and enveloping me in seconds.

“
How are you so warm?” I marveled.

Ellie chuckled, walking ahead of us. “Because men are hot headed beasts.”

Ellie was warm, but even without a shirt, Jerry was hot. Ellie was like a blanket in the cold: it doesn’t warm you up immediately; you must wait for your own body heat to warm it enough. Jerry’s warmth surrounded me like a blanket with its own heat source. I felt the difference immediately.

Inside, Ellie flipped the switch, turning on the fireplace. Flames with a blue tint flickered to life. I could have sworn it was a wood-burning fireplace. The wood looked so real.

As if I’d done it hundreds of times before, I removed my shoes at the door and made a beeline for the closest sofa. I spread the decorative lap blanket that had been strategically laid across the back over me, piling the throw pillows around me for added warmth and comfort.

Jerry moved in to sit beside me. He’d kicked his shoes off at the door as well. I pressed a hand to his stomach, halting him. “Do you mind sitting on the other sofa with Ellie?”

Ellie folded her arms, towering over the coffee table. She quirked a brow. “That serious, huh?”

“
I’ll compromise.” Jerry sat down on the coffee table before me.

“
Good idea, Jer.” Ellie kicked out of her heels before plopping down beside him. They both stared at me expectantly.

Concerns slinked over me as my stomach knotted. “No pressure.” A nervous laugh escaped me. I fidgeted beneath the cover.

Ellie reached over and pressed a hand to my thigh. “Part of the whole mate thing is that you can tell us anything, and we’ll still love you anyways.”

Love? Maybe Billy was right. This did seem a little impulsive. I mean, who was talking about love after a day?

I lowered my gaze to where her hand rested. My heartbeat quickened. I’d never had to explain my issues to anyone before. I’d never wanted to. I’d even forced my therapists to read the previous professional’s report rather than force me to repeat the saga.

I couldn’t explain it, but for some reason, I wanted them to know. Perhaps it was my way of controlling my impulse to be with them. I didn’t know many who would sign on for my plate of problems.

“
We’re listening, sweetie.” Jerry rested his elbows atop his knees.

Ellie sat back, cupping her hands in her lap. “Whenever you’re ready,” she prompted.

I studied them before honing in on the fire, not wanting to watch their reactions. The blue of the flames was mesmerizing, reminiscent of Ellie’s eyes. I blinked once and blew out a gentle breath. My stomach churned. This was harder than I expected. I mean, all I was doing was talking; yet saying even the first word was overwhelming.

I squeezed my hands together, deciding to start from the beginning. “My mom drank a lot. That was her way of coping with her disorder. My dad dealt with her by retreating to his office and working when they weren’t traveling. In public, she put on a great front. She was the picture perfect wife and mom. Behind closed doors, you never knew what mood she would be in, which person you’d be dealing with that day, and sometimes it was a minute-by-minute toss up. She was erratic, and the epitome of who I didn’t want to become.

“
But I did.” I swallowed hard. I took a shaky breath. “I was always the quiet girl. My own mother scared me into my room every day she was there. When I was about twelve, the switch flipped and I closed myself off from the world. My grades fell and the few friends I did have didn’t want to be bothered; I wasn’t someone you wanted to be around. I’d snapped. I couldn’t take it anymore. My dad said I was just hormonal, which was partly true. My mother thought I needed therapy, so she sent me. I didn’t have a choice, and I resented her and everyone else for it. I thought she was the one who needed to talk her issues out, not me.

“
At my first appointment with a psychiatrist, I was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder and situational depression. She didn’t want to accept that part of my problem was her and the environment she created at home. Bi-polar disorder means I’m already hormonally imbalanced, that I already struggle to deal with life most days, but she pushed me further. She poked a mad woman essentially. She gave me such anxiety that I went one of three ways: I snapped, had a panic attack or slipped into an extreme depression.” I tried to give them the cliff notes version, the very least they would need to see the whole picture.

I wrung my hands. “Even though my mom is gone, I have triggers. I still deal with mood swings, depression and anxiety. When I feel pressured, I respond with impulse, like a rubber band snapping back, embracing whatever idea or emotion is at the forefront in that exact moment. I don’t think things through and end up regretting it usually. I’ve been taking my current mix of medicine for about ten years now. It’s made a big difference, but it doesn’t solve the problem; it only helps me better cope with the symptoms.”

I nibbled my bottom lip, observing the texture of the stone fireplace. “Since Donovan started…” I shook my head lightly. His name alone never ceased to strangle me for a brief moment, freezing me with fear. He was a wild card, full of unknowns that shattered any chance I had at stability. “I, um, can’t seem to get a grip, regardless of my dosage since he came into my life.”

I turned my attention to them. Their expressions were blank, unreadable. I gave them a wistful smile, dropping my gaze to the blanket. I studied the fibers of it, noticing all the tiny imperfections in the thread. “It’s embarrassing to admit that I can’t handle life when so many do it with no problem. I internalize things differently. It’s…” I bit my lip harder as I met Ellie’s stare. “It’s why I panicked afterwards. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to freak out the way I did. More than anything, I was worried about regretting it, about Billy or someone else making me regret it.” I paused as a mix of emotions rose inside me, constricting my chest. My heart pounded as I spoke. “But I don’t. I panicked because I’d never done that before. I’d never acted that impulsively without regretting it, until you.” I shrugged, feeling my cheeks heat as they watched me silently. “I guess it could be a little premature to say that, but…” I rolled my shoulders again, allowing my words to trail off.

I clutched the blanket tighter, diverting my focus. Their silence ate away at me. It fostered my insecurities, sent my mind racing. Absently, I wondered if I’d ever have a successful long-term relationship. Juan Carlo was my longest to date, lasting just over nine months, but it was a superficial one. He tried to care, but he loved himself too much; there was no room in his heart for anyone else. I kept telling myself that it was a phase, part of his immaturity, yet he never made any progress. He pumped any woman who paid him a compliment, literally and figuratively.

All things considered, I couldn’t blame Billy for handling me the way he did, especially with the Donovan issue. It made sense that he did things for me rather than risk me breaking down or working myself up until I fainted. I despised the label, but I was mentally handicapped in ways.

“
Is that all?” Jerry’s voice was a sharp knife piercing the dark.

I quietly observed him then Ellie. Their expressions were black masks, concealing all I longed to see. I barely stifled the urge to run. My limbs tingled with the need to bolt, but anxiety, the sick need to hear them say the words, weighed me down, kept me in place.

I waited with bated breath for them to politely pull away, citing they didn’t want me to do something I might regret with them; after all, that was the easy way out that I’d just given them. It made it sound like they actually cared, but really they were relieved to avoid a ticking time bomb. That was the problem with telling the truth: reactions varied based on the person and content. A lie guaranteed a positive response initially since one was typically saying what they knew the others wanted to hear. It was hell later, but you did have a time of peace prior, unless your conscience was too strong.

I wasn’t big on confrontation. I tended to cower. But my conscience was too annoying to lie. I really did internalize everything, including my own actions. “Um, yeah.” My voice was weak; I felt pathetic.

“
I think Ellie will agree when I say we don’t give a shit.”

“
Hell yeah,” Ellie cheered.

I knew my face registered my shock.

Jerry took my hands. “We all have stuff we need to work through, Kate. No one is perfect. You’ll discover things you don’t like about me and I can give you a list on Ellie.”

“
Hey!” She smacked his chest.

He shook his head at her before refocusing on me again. “When you care about someone, sweetie, you don’t walk away when they show they’re human. I still want to be with you; I still want to sleep with you. I still look at you the same.”

“
Ditto, babe,” Ellie interjected, giving my forearm a gentle pinch. “Plus, my mood swings could make a mama bear look like a saint, and no doctor has ever given me an excuse.”

Jerry lifted his brows, blowing out a breath. “Ain’t that the truth.”

Ellie rolled her eyes.

He ignored her, remaining diligent with me. “If there comes a day when you regret it all, we’ll be there to help you through it, in whatever capacity you want us as at that point and onwards.”

I was surprised when tears pricked my eyes. Miraculously, my anxiety melted away as a new feeling crushed me: relief. Elation replaced my fear. And while I was certain I’d overanalyze it all later, trying to locate the negative, for now I needed to celebrate this. It wasn’t often that two people came along and declared your issues a non-concern. In fact, I was almost certain it was a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence.

My attention slipped to Jerry’s naked torso and Ellie’s enticing cleavage. Both were at an equal horizontal level. “Is that naked by the fire offer still on the table?”

They made eye contact with one another, a devilish glitter appearing in their depths. “Any day, any time, sweet cheeks.” Ellie winked.

I tried to pull a coy approach, but they saw right past it. “I was just thinking that if there’s a chance of regret anyways, I might as well make it epic, right?”

“
Right!” Ellie jerked me onto her lap, right out of Jerry’s hands. The blanket and pillows tumbled to the floor. Her hands pulled at my hips, sliding to position my legs on the outside of hers. Her fingers traveled up my shirt, molding to the natural curve of my spine, drawing me deeper into her.

My pussy heated, desire swarmed me seemingly from nowhere.

Jerry leaned in, his gaze intent. “Donovan will get to you over our dead bodies, so don’t you dare waste another second on him.”

“
We’re about to make you forget about him for the night.” Ellie’s lips caressed mine in a slow, aggressive tease.

“
Distract away,” I mumbled, giving myself up to them.

—

Chapter Eighteen

ELLIE

I couldn’t believe she’d been nervous to tell us that. What must she think of us to guard the truth so hard? She acted as though she were about to confess to murder.