It’s been three months since Paris. Three blissful months spent touring Europe. There were no more lies and no more secrets.

Loren told me about being left for dead after convincing his mother to leave her abusive marriage. He told me his father’s offer if he quit Bound and came home, and then he made it clear that it wasn’t happening now or ever. He even confessed his part in ruining Rich’s marriage.

Jericho told me about his time in foster care and group homes. He told me about meeting Emily…and the things she made him do to prove that he loved her. What he didn’t tell me, but I pieced together on my own, was that she’d taken advantage of his search for an unbreakable bond and used him like her personal puppet.

My heart broke for him.

It broke for that lonely, desperate kid who couldn’t see that he’d already found it with Houston and Loren.

Jericho had signed that deal with Savant to give his wife the life she demanded so that he wouldn’t have to steal and hurt and destroy anymore. He’d given his soul for Emily, and she ruined him in return.

Even with all that honesty, I was left to wonder what skeletons Houston was hiding in his closet. He didn’t seem to have any, but neither had Jericho.

They were tortured, yes.

We all were.

But I was praying there was nothing else waiting to jump out of the bushes and bite us.

That reason and curiosity were why I agreed to meet Houston’s grandmother. The three of them had planned for us to meet the first time they brought me home, but I ran away before they could arrange it, so this time, they weren’t taking any chances.

It’s barely been an hour since we’d returned to Portland, and we were already on our way. The second leg was done, and we had a month before the tour continued until ending for good in May.

I smiled to myself as we quietly rode through the city in the Suburban that had been waiting for us when the private plane landed.

I couldn’t wait to get back to their fort.

Or, as Loren called it, the treehouse.

Houston and Rich refused to acknowledge either truth.

I immediately realized where they’d gotten their love for Victorian architecture when we pulled up to the blue two-story on a small hill with white framing the windows and doors and a dark brick roof. The neighborhood was quiet since it was a late Tuesday morning, long after kids had gone to school, and parents had left for work.

It was raining too.

I tried not to take that as an omen as the steady fall washed away the two inches of snow that had fallen recently.

The car stopped, and I looked to Houston, who was already studying me from his seat next to me in the back row.

“Ready?”

Exhaling slowly, I nodded my response while wishing he’d give something away. He was tense too, but I didn’t know why since Loren and Rich both seemed excited. They were already hopping out of the truck, and neither waited for us before rushing for the front door and disappearing inside.

Houston kissed my fingers, climbed out, and helped me once he was on his feet. He said something to the driver that I didn’t catch because I couldn’t hear over my heartbeat.

I’d never done this before.

Houston and Loren weren’t the only ones who’d never been in a relationship. Rich was the only one with experience, and considering how well that worked out…yeah, I was nervous.

Rich didn’t have parents for me to meet, and Loren’s sounded like real tools, so luckily, this might be the only time I’d ever go through this.

What if she didn’t like me?

I knew Houston, Loren, and Jericho. It wouldn’t change a thing, but…I’d like her to anyway—for them more so than me. I took a deep breath and exhaled once we reached the double front doors. I could hear voices on the other side, and they sounded happy. I just hoped my presence wouldn’t change that.

Here goes everything.

@Em_Anon: Watch your back. He’s mine.

I snorted at the tweet before tossing my phone back down on the lumpy twin mattress next to me. Lying on my back, I hummed “Light My Fire” by The Doors as I stared at the ceiling and the dead rock star hanging from it. It figured Loren would idolize the most unpredictable rebel of his time and perhaps even ours still.

I was still staring at the poster of the shirtless Jim Morrison with his arms up, palms forward and splayed like he was saying “make way” when my attention was stolen by someone stepping inside the small bedroom.

“There you are.”

Loren slowly walked to the foot of his old bed and stopped. He was eating yet another one of the cookies Houston’s grandmother, who they all called Mom, had made in the eight hours since we arrived.

No one seemed in a rush to leave, including me, after learning how open and warm Houston’s grandmother turned out to be. She didn’t even blink when Houston, Loren, and Jericho told her they were all dating me. Perhaps she’d already heard the rumors, but her lack of reaction had still taken me by surprise. If they hadn’t already told me otherwise, I’d think I wasn’t the first girl they’d shared before.

Laine Morrow made me miss my own grandmother, who had been my only source of friendship before I lost her to cancer when I was fourteen. In a way, she’d been an outcast too but refused to leave Faithful because she enjoyed making people squirm.

I smiled at the memory of her, even as the room began to smell like roses.

“Here I am.” Loren wasted no time crawling onto the bed, and after kissing my lips, he lay beside me. “Interesting choice to hang over your bed,” I said, ending the comfortable silence that followed.

In my peripheral, I saw Loren smirk. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m not picky about gender.”

I turned my head toward him. “Is that your way of telling me you’re bi?”

Loren chewed on his lip while staring at the poster. I could tell something was on his mind. “Call it what you want,” he answered absently.

I ignored the phantom sweetness filling my mouth and turned on my side until I was spooning Loren’s. “Is something wrong?”

“Everything’s perfect, actually.”

Placing my hand on his chest, I lifted enough to see his face fully. “Then what’s the matter?”

Loren met my gaze and held it. As with Houston at the Eiffel Tower, I could sense Loren’s indecision before choosing blatant honesty no matter how much it hurt. “I’m just wondering if it will last.”

Laying my head over his beating heart, I felt the same sharp chord reality struck every time I was forced to acknowledge it.

“It won’t.” I heard him suck in a breath at my decision to be brutally honest as well. “Perfection isn’t real. There’s only us. We’ll make each other laugh, and we’ll make each other scream. Bad days will find us again. We will be tested, and sometimes we’ll falter. We’ll wonder if this time we make it through.” I lifted my head to look at him. “Love isn’t an illusion that requires silence to maintain. It only needs our memory of what it was like without each other.”

Loren gently put me on my back before making himself comfortable between my legs. “So we keep fighting anyway?” he questioned as he looked down at me. “Even if it hurts?” There was no doubt in his tone. There was only the need to confirm what he already knew in his heart.

“Yes.”

Loren nodded and then looked over his shoulder.

We were no longer alone.

Jericho, also eating another cookie and staring at his phone, wandered over to the other twin bed and sat on the edge. Houston’s grandmother had referred to this bedroom as Loren and Rich’s when she gave me the tour, so I knew they must have shared it at one point while Houston had his own.

“Where’s Houston?” I asked when I was reminded that one of the trio was missing.

“Took his grandmother to the store for groceries,” Rich answered as he continued with whatever held his attention on his phone. “We’re staying for dinner.”

I simply nodded since I had no problem with that. Besides, I was sure it was Laine Morrow’s idea and not up for debate. Immediately upon hearing that we were without supervision, a switch in Loren’s mind seemed to flip as he turned frisky.

“What are you doing?” Stupid question since I already knew. His hand was now under my dress and pulling my thong down.

“I’ve been thinking about eating your pussy since we left Dublin,” Loren told me. His lips brushed my jawline before reaching my ear. “Can I?”

“We can’t,” I whined as I caught his wrist just before my panties could clear my thighs. He could break my hold if he wanted to, but he wouldn’t. “Not here.” I had to draw the line somewhere, and getting laid in Houston’s grandmother’s house seemed to be the perfect spot.

“Why?” He chuckled. “You think we haven’t brought girls here before?” I didn’t respond when I pushed him off of me. “What?” the idiot questioned with a genuinely bewildered look. “What did I say?”