Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“No, not that,” I said, laughing a little. “I’m supposed to be using the crutches now, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.” His crooked smile looked good on his tan face. “What can I help with?”
“I need help setting the mood.”
“Pardon?” His eyebrows rose almost to his hairline.
“For the meeting. I don’t want it to look like a committee meeting in a boardroom. I want it to be more… casual. More… well, more intimate actually. I tried to order wine from the store, but they don’t deliver alcohol.”
“We have some,” he said, and I could tell he was taking my request seriously. “Do you want to meet out here, or the living room, or the kitchen table?”
“Out here,” I decided. It would be dark, which might help me be brave enough to speak my piece. Plus, it was less likely to wake the twins.
“All right. Want me to get the firepit going by then?”
“Are there any candles?”
“I think that can be arranged.” He put his hand on my shoulder and gave me another smile. “You can count on me, but I’ve got to say… I’m really intrigued about this meeting of yours.”
Hopefully, he’d still be smiling after he heard me out.
It was different, being out on the deck after dark. The scent of greenery was stronger, along with an extra note that seemed to belong to the night itself.
Raphael had outdone himself. The strings of light that lined the railing were on, and several candles were grouped together in the middle of the table. Next to them were a bottle of wine and four glasses. Raphael had also somehow whipped up a tray of fancy looking hors d'oeuvres. That man was a genius in the kitchen.
One by one, the men joined me. Raphael first, then Spencer, then Flynn.
“Are you allowed to drink?” Spencer asked before I could say anything.
“I’m twenty-three,” I protested.
“No, I mean because of your medicine.”
“She’s good,” Raphael said.
Flynn looked up at that. “What are you, her doctor?”
“Kind of,” Raphael said, and he sent me a wink. I grinned back. It almost felt true, with all the help he’d given me since the beginning. He poured the wine and passed around the glasses. “To Alyssa and her continued recovery.” We clinked our glasses together.
That was sweet. I hadn’t expected that. Somehow, it made it harder to forge ahead, since I was pretty sure all three of them would soon think very differently of me. I took a sip of wine for support. It was good, a rich merlot.
Spencer got the ball rolling, since I wasn’t quite brave enough yet. “So what’s this about, Lyss?”
I’d rehearsed this in my head, but nothing came out as they stared at me. Abandoning the plan, since I couldn’t currently remember it anyway, I blurted out, “I like you guys.” My cheeks reddened, but I made sure to look at all three as I said it, first Raphael, then Spencer, then Flynn.
“You don’t even know me,” Flynn said when my gaze swept over him.
“True, for the most part, but I like you anyway.”
“She has strange taste in men,” Spencer said to Raphael, and I laughed, the pressure releasing for just a moment.
“I like you and Raphael too,” I told him.
“Her taste is getting better,” Raphael observed.
The fact that they were giving me the time I needed to gather my thoughts helped. “The thing is, I’m afraid I like you all a little too much.”
Spencer frowned. “In a Fatal Attraction way?”
“Definitely not,” I said with a little smile. “It’s more like… should more than one of you like me back—and I’m not saying you do—I wouldn’t be able to choose between you.”
“So you’d want us to choose?” Flynn asked, his head cocked to the side. “If more than one of us liked you?”
“Which I’d wager is the case,” Spencer said.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” I chewed on my bottom lip, not sure how to get into this without sounding like an egomaniac who thought the men of the world were dying to throw themselves at her feet. Or her cast.
The stupid thing is that I’d spent a lot of time preparing for this moment with Kylie. I’d explained to her the problem. When I’d slept next to Raphael, and then later Spencer, I’d wanted to badly to do more than spoon. I wanted them to kiss me and touch me. But if I did that with one, would the other feel rejected? That was the last thing I wanted.
“Just try,” Raphael said, putting his hand on mine. Even in the dim light, his green eyes were visible—and gorgeous.
“Let me tell you a story.” I paused, wondering if I was about to betray people who were important to me. But their story was beautiful. It should be shared. “My brother Mason has been best friends with Jude for at least a decade. As close as brothers. Then a few years ago, Parker came along, and now all three of them are best friends. Then they met Kylie.”