Uncut (Unexpected Book 4) (30 page)

M
y phone rings around three in the morning, and when I check it out, every instinct in me tells me to ignore it. If I want to separate myself from his future, the first step is by not answering his calls. It’s the best thing for all.

Matthew
.

I’ve gone over each thought, each emotion, each action, and the consequences of a relationship between the three of us. Nothing between us is possible. The friendship, the love, or any relationship. There’s nothing we can do to make it happen. Answering the phone will only tie me closer to him, to them.

Yet, I slide my thumb over the screen and answer. “Decker, how’s it going?”

“Hmm, cold voice,” he says, sighing on the other side of the line. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a conversation with your alter ego. Mind telling why I have to deal with him?”

I sit back on the couch, watching the city below me, then at the piano where Matt spends hours playing music and composing songs. My mind focuses on him, then Thea, making my heart thunder inside my rib cage. As I am about to speak, I rub my hand over my sweats. “Maybe it was that crazy idea of joining the three of us that has me on the edge.”

“Expected, but I’m not pushing for anything immediate, if that’s what worries you, Cooperson,” he says, his voice modulated, yet edgy. “Don’t think about us for now, just spend more time with her. Enjoy your time with Thea, she’s bright, sweet—”

“Yeah, yeah, she has many qualities,” I interrupt him, not wanting to hear everything that I already know.

Both have so many qualities. They aren’t perfect, but I love who they are. It’s not the now that worries me, but the later. It won’t be long before they realize how perfect they are for each other. When that happens, I’ll no longer be part of their equation. That’s when Tristan Cooperson will become an afterthought.

“Matt, I’m planning on staying until you’re back, because I promised you.” I return to that cold voice hoping it will push him away. My heart won’t survive if I let them all the way inside. “After that, Matt, we have to go back to what we really are. Business associates.”

“Cooperson, I have to hit the pillow if I’m going to wake up at eight.” He ignores what I said. “That’s when you and Thea are going for a run, right? I decided to join the fun—via cellphone—at least for the first day.”

“Are you even listening?”

“Yes, I’m listening to what your heart is telling me,” he responds, and I close my eyes. “I’m scared too, Tristan. This can turn fucking ugly, or become the most beautiful love in the history of the world. Dream along with us, babe. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Thea and I run through the trail around Lake Washington. There are boats already on the lake. Hikers, runners, and bikers follow the same route. Our pace is steady. For the first mile or so we remain silent, but after we pass a couple, she reduces her speed and turns slightly toward me.

“Matt phoned me last night,” she says. I nod. “He told me about his idea, the three of us being . . . a couple.”

I open my mouth, but then close it and pick up the pace. We’re not talking about it. If I run faster, we can’t discuss anything. The triad isn’t a conversation I want to have again. All night I tossed and turned after hanging up with Matt. He’s scared, so why does he want to do it? A trip to one of the old shrinks I had would be a good place for him. Not to change him, but to listen to what they drilled inside my head for years. He should listen to my father and hear that I’ll never be whole because I
want to pretend
that I like men.

Lost in thought, I don’t realize that we’ve run farther than I intended, and that Thea has passed me by. Her long legs stride like an elegant gazelle. The leggings she wears hug her lower body, showing each muscle moving with every step. God, she’s hot. Wait, I have to stop her, we have to go back. My meeting with the architect is at nine thirty and I won’t make it if we continue.

“Thea,” I call her, slowing my pace. “Thea.” I take off again, running faster to catch up with her.

Once I reach her, I realize why she’s ignoring me. I signal her and she slows down, taking off one of the earbuds.

“Yeah?” She frowns.

I check the time. Shit. It’s nine fifteen. “We have to go back, I have a meeting.” I point to the opposite side to change directions.

“Yoga?” I close my eyes for a few seconds and shake my head. “Matt wants to hit the gym before that.”

“Matt isn’t with us,” I remind her.

Thea lifts the free earbud. “Yes, he is and he says . . . nope, I’m not telling him that, Matthew.” She laughs, rolling her eyes. “Really, a three-way call. Maybe someday, Matt. Yes, I promise that one day I might go with you to Cali, and run along the beach in the early morning or under the moonlight.”

“You can run and talk?” I question, impressed with her abilities.

“Nope, we’ve just been running together.” She shrugs. “In silence. Matt, I’ll call you later, if we hit the gym. Yes, miss you too.”

Thea turns her jog into a fast-paced walk and finally just walks. I follow, and come to a stop the moment she does.

When she turns her face to me, I detect anger. “You can’t bottle everything within yourself, Tristan. Yesterday I heard you, loud and clear. They tortured you, made you believe that what’s inside you is wrong. That who you are is an aberration.” She takes a step closer. “Who you are is different from what they told you.” Her hand traces my jaw, then she stretches her neck and kisses my lips. “If you gave yourself a chance and get to know the guy I see, you’ll believe in yourself. You’re more than an entrepreneur, Tristan. I’m not saying that we should follow Matt. No, I’m suggesting that you let yourself be happy. Break the chains, free yourself.”

“I’m not alone?” She slightly nods, and then her beautiful smile is on her face. I take her inside my arms. “Thea, my biggest fear is losing you, not being close to you.”

“One breath at a time, one beat at a time, and maybe someday we’ll find what works for each,” she murmurs, snuggling herself closer to me. “Neither one of us has a destiny, but our paths crossed. This is unlike me, but I suggest we make the best of it. Dream, love, and believe in a future.”

“You sound so sure,” I whisper in her ear, kissing her neck.

“No, but I can’t continue hiding myself from the world. It’s time to come out. I trust that you and Matt will be by my side if I need someone to lean on.”

“Always,” I say, deciding that if this brave woman can take a stand and search for something else, so can I. Therapists, long talks, whatever is necessary, bring them on.

“W
hat are you wearing?” I chuckle and roll my eyes, then look down at the ugly Silver Moon polo shirt. That’s the way I roll at nights while working. “Why are you rolling those pretty violets at me, Butterfly?”

I place the phone between my ear and my shoulder and pick up a box of Coronas to take to the bar. “I’m not, Matthew Decker.”

“You always do when I say something that makes you blush or that you find semi-irritating but funny.” His voice makes my day, but knowing that he knows those silly details about me makes me swoon.

My mind and my heart are battling daily. Each second is reason vs. feelings, right vs. wrong, logic vs. irrational. Love them vs. running away. After two weeks, I wake up searching for my black caffeinated poison and their voices to start my day. Tristan arrives at my front door daily, offering coffee before our morning run, after we do yoga, and don’t see each other until the night. Matt calls me when he starts his day, usually around ten in the morning, and finishes my night . . . with a goodnight three-way call. I fall asleep listening to their voices. How am I supposed to consider the cons when they are the constant of my days?

“Give me a sec, Matt. I have to maneuver something and the phone might drop.” The process goes without a glitch. I place the box on top of the counter and head back for more. “We’re good, Matt.”

“Have you missed me enough yet, Butterfly?”

Yes, so much that I want to take a plane and head to Vancouver right now.

“Maybe.” I look around the bar, making sure no one is aware that I’m giggling like some teenager talking to her first crush. “What’s up, Matt?”

“I’m about to board the plane, but wanted to call before heading back home.” His voice lowers, creating a wave of goose bumps traveling from the nape of my neck all the way to my toes. How does he do that? “I have to make a stop at my parents’ first, but after that I’m driving back to you. Is Trist working tonight?”

“He hates that nickname, Matt,” I remind him. “But yeah, he’s supposed to arrive soon.”

“Awesome, I can’t wait to have you two in my arms.”

“’Kay,” I whisper, melting like ice cream in the middle of the Sahara. So much for keeping our relationship as a friendship. I’m tied in knots, not knowing where to run to save myself from whatever will happen with us, or how to react to all of it. Wanting both, unable to choose one, and fearing I’m way over my head. “Text me when you land, just so I know you’re safe.”

“I will. See you soon, my butterfly.” The line goes dead before I get a chance to say another word.

“Babe?”

I spin around to find the other part of my heart—Tristan. What? Wait, did I just call him the other part of my heart? No way. He can’t be that. Neither one can become part of . . . Who the hell am I kidding? They are, but I have to put on my logical hat and treat this as it is: An attraction that can’t continue. As mature adults we have to make choices and live with them. Stop thinking with my lady parts, the ones that want to mingle with their manly parts. I chew on my lip, wondering how those parts might look.