“Have you talked to Niko today?” Vidar asked Rocco the minute he walked in the door to Vidar’s house. Home, he supposed, at least it felt like it after having more or less lived there for the last month. Vidar had told him to give up the lease on the tiny one bedroom apartment he kept across town and move in officially. It made sense, but Roc had never been good with not having a contingency plan, even when it made him feel like an asshole.
“Just a few texts,” he said, bending down to scoop up Judo and keep her from putting little claw pricks in his suit pants. He’d been in a consultation about a case with one of the lawyers he freelanced for. Meetings like those required his “hot pants” as Niko liked to call them. “Why?”
Vidar moved out into the hallway from the kitchen, and Rocco had to really focus to keep his brain from hurtling over to a very different topic of conversation than the one they’d just been on. Vi was in sleep pants, soft, woven blue material that hung low, exposing the deep v-cuts that framed the bulge at his groin. He missed some of the bulk Vidar had lost with the new fight training regimen, but the super cut look was working for him, too.
“I think I upset him,” Vi said, leaning a shoulder against the edge of the archway that led to the kitchen. “I don’t know what I did exactly, but he was not happy when he left the gym to go to work.”
Roc set Judo back on the floor and moved to stand in front of Vi. “Did he come to watch you train?”
A tinge of pink filled Vidar’s cheeks and he dropped his eyes. “I was sparring with Rory, and I honestly don't know how long he was there. One minute, we were working combos and the next, Dagen was telling me I better get my shit together and go after my boy. When I caught up to him, he wouldn’t even look at me, Roc. Barely kissed me goodbye.”
That didn’t sound like Niko, at least, it didn’t sound like Niko pre-fight news. Roc had noticed on more than one occasion a sullenness that was very un-Niko-like since that night in the cage. “Babe,” he said, running his hands up and down Vidar’s arms. “You know he’s worried about this fight, and I know that you don’t understand why, but here’s the thing...You spent so long keeping him at arm’s length, and then just when you let him in, he’s pushed back to the sidelines while you train for a fight he’s terrified for you to take on.”
The deep furrow between Vidar’s eyebrows told Roc that he wasn’t getting through even before Vi opened his mouth. “I haven’t sidelined him. He sleeps curled between us every night! We practically live together.”
“Vi.” Roc held up his hands. “All I’m saying is that maybe he’s feeling a little insecure. Whether you want to admit it or not, you’ve been wrapped up in training, and I’ve been turning away clients because there’s just no way I can keep up. Our man might need a little extra affection...and not the dick kind.”
Vidar grimaced at him. “I knew what you meant. Jesus, I’m not with the two of you for the sex.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Which is spectacular by the way, before you even go there.”
Roc chuckled. “You know I’ve got no complaints, but really, it’s been weeks since the three of us sat down and had a meal together. We’re all running in different directions, and I know that it won’t always be this way, but at this formative stage, Niko probably needs a little more from us.”
Vidar nodded, then pushed off the wall, wrapping his arms around Roc and laying his head on Roc’s shoulder. Snaking his arms around Vidar’s waist, Roc held him close.
“I missed you,” Vi said after they’d been pressed together for a moment.
“You saw me this morning.” Roc smiled and pressed a kiss to Vi’s forehead.
“No, I mean, after the thing with my dad. I missed you so fucking much, and I was so angry about everything.”
Roc closed his eyes and swallowed against the lump welling up in his throat. He didn’t like to think about the time just after he’d been forced to leave Vi behind. “I missed you, too.”
“I still have your letters.” Vi stood up and looked him in the eye. “I didn’t know what to say.”
Roc nodded, lifting his hands to cup Vidar’s face. “It’s okay, babe. I didn’t really know what to say either, but writing them made me feel like I still had a connection to you.”
“Getting them made me feel the same way. God, I’m such an asshole. Just when I think I’ve got a handle on shit, I’m somehow still fucking it up.” Vidar sighed and started to pull away from him.
“I mean, you can be an asshole sometimes, but you’re not, Vi. You’re really not. And in your defense, you did decide to go from having no relationships for almost twenty years to diving head first into a relationship with two men. It’s only been a month—a crazy month—it’s going to take us a bit to find our rhythm.”
Sucking in a deep breath, Vidar nodded. “You’re right. I know you are. I just…I just got the both of you. I can’t lose you. Either one of you. Not now.”
Roc had to kiss him, so he did—slow and deep, full of the never-ending well of love he had for this man. “Trust me, okay?” he said, once he’d pulled back enough for them to catch their breath. “We’re not going anywhere. Ever. You’re basically stuck with us.”
“I’m more than okay with that.” Vidar pulled back when his phone started buzzing on the counter. It wasn’t super late, just after eight p.m., but Vidar rarely received calls at this hour unless something was wrong.
“Who is it?” Roc asked, moving to grab a water out of the fridge as Vi picked up the phone.
“Rory.” Vi said, sliding his thumb across the screen and lifting the phone to his ear. “Hey Ror—”
Roc knew the second Rory told him something was wrong. Vi’s face morphed from curious to full-on murderous in a second flat, and that could mean only one thing—someone he loved was hurt or in trouble.
Vidar gritted out a quick, “We’ll be there,” into the phone and Roc was glad he hadn’t taken off his shoes.
“What happened?”
“Some asshole was harassing Luca and Niko stepped in. Rory thinks he needs stitches, but Niko’s refusing to go to the hospital,” Vi yelled back over his shoulder as he headed for the bedroom to change his clothes.
Chapter Seventeen
Niko hadn’t said a word on the way home from the hospital. Vidar and Roc had rushed to Viridian to find a despondent Niko and an anxious Luca. It hadn’t taken much, some low soothing words from Roc, to get Niko to agree to go get stitches. Magnus and Rory were having Luca stay with them in the loft over the club. Vidar only realized Niko was asleep when Roc pulled the car into the driveway, and Vi reached for the door, only for Niko to slump when he moved his shoulder away.
“Sorry, baby,” Vi said quietly, hating the white gauze pad taped to Niko’s forearm covering a cut from a broken beer bottle. Vidar had to grip the door handle and breathe deeply when he thought about some asshole breaking a bottle over the bar and attacking Niko with it. Evan and Rory had subdued the guy quickly, but Niko had been cut, and according to Rory, pissed as hell. That fight had gone out of him by the time Vi and Roc got there. Stepping out of the car, he reached down to help Niko up.
It stung more than he ever imagined it would when Niko hesitated a moment before taking his hand. Fear and fury like he hadn’t felt in years churned in his gut, and while he would never lash out at Niko with the full brunt of what he was feeling, he was afraid they were going to find one of their breaking points before this night was through. Rocco, thankfully, was embracing his cool, analytical self, trying to keep the balance before one of his hot-headed lovers tipped the scale.
Once they got in the house, Niko walked stiffly past both him and Roc to the bedroom.
Roc sighed. “I’ll talk to him.”
“No, I should—” Vi started, only to stop when Niko came back, stopping at the opening of the hall with his eyes full of tears.
“I’m sorry, okay? But that guy wouldn’t leave Luca alone. He kept saying he knew Luca, and Luca told him over and over that he didn’t. I went to
get Evan like I’m supposed to, but when he reached across the bar and grabbed Luca’s arm, I freaking lost it. Luca’s had enough shit in his life, he doesn’t need it from some drunk asshole, too.”
“Hey,” Roc said, going to Niko and pulling him close. “No one blames you for defending your brother.”
Vidar moved to join them, running a hand up and down Niko’s back. “Definitely not, but what else is going on, baby? What did I do?”
Niko sniffed, and pulled away from them. “Nothing. You didn’t do anything. It’s me. I’m being stupid.”
“This isn’t going to work if we can’t talk things out. Relationships are hard enough when you only have one person to love,” Roc said, voice going quiet. “And we each have two.”
At the word love, Vidar’s heart leapt. He loved them—beyond reason, without a doubt—and would until his bones turned to dust, but he hadn’t considered that they might already feel the same way about him. He was the stubborn asshole who’d created and maintained a divide with both of them, for years in Rocco’s case.
Niko nodded, like Roc’s words had reached him. “I guess I’m just feeling a little lost.” He finally lifted his eyes and looked at Vidar. “I know that you want this fight. I can’t say I understand it, but I get that it’s important to you and I want to be supportive, but it’s really fucking hard because I don’t want you to do it. It scares the shit out of me.”
Without thought, Vidar scooped Niko up, lifting until Niko wrapped his legs around Vidar’s waist. He held Niko close to his chest and pressed their foreheads together as he walked them into the bedroom. Rocco followed behind them and clicked on the little bedside lamp, filling the room with a soft gold light, as he laid Niko out on their bed. And it was their bed. He crawled up after him, settling himself between Niko’s spread thighs, and balancing on one arm while he reached for Roc with the other. Once Roc had settled right next to Niko, he pressed soft kisses to Niko’s temple before they both looked up at him. They were perfect, his men, with their olive skin and onyx eyes.
“I want you to listen to me, because I need to tell you both something important.” Their gazes didn’t waver, and as much as he thought he should be nervous or afraid, he found the words waiting to pour out of him only brought a sense of peace. Because they were true. He realized finally that the thing he’d been most afraid of was the one thing that made him whole. “I love you.” A little smile pulled at Roc’s mouth, even as Niko’s eyes went wide. “I’ve loved you both for a long time. I know these last few weeks have been crazy.” He lowered himself until he and Niko were chest to chest. “I promise I’ll do better. Someone pointed out that I might need a bit of a learning curve.”
Roc smiled. “You don’t do anything half-assed that’s for sure, babe. Oh, and I love you, too. Both of you.”
Tears that hadn’t quite dispersed, spilled over Niko’s eyelashes. “I love you both so much.” He took a shuddery breath then leaned over to kiss Roc before tilting his chin up at Vidar.
Framing Niko’s head with his forearms, Vidar kissed him sweet and slow, then pulled back to kiss the dampness under his eyes.
“And you didn’t do anything wrong, Vi,” Niko said, looking sleepy. “I may not understand it, but I hope you kick that guy’s ass.”
Vi and Roc looked at each other as Niko’s eyes drifted closed, the pain medicine from the hospital and adrenaline crash pulling him under. In unspoken agreement, they both stood and stripped before pulling off Niko’s pants and shirt, leaving him in nothing but his briefs as they climbed back in and pulled him close, bracketing him in with their bodies.
Chapter Eighteen
The day of the fight dawned cool and crisp. Vidar was as focused as Roc had ever seen him as he went through some warm-ups with Harbor and Rory. Since the fight was in Indianapolis at Bankers Life Fieldhouse, they’d spent the majority of the week at Harbor and Theo’s. Oh, how he missed their bed. Even with Niko being considerably smaller than both him and Vidar, they were a snug fit in a queen-sized bed. They’d made it work though, and might have enjoyed indulging in the closeness a bit too vocally if the looks Harbor and Theo had shot them over breakfast were any indication.
“How’s he doing?” Niko asked, fiddling with the lanyard and laminated ID badge that granted backstage access. Since they couldn’t have everyone back there all the time, Niko had acted as a go between from the VIP seats where the rest of the Rourke family and friends were camped out to this dressing room they’d claimed as their own. Honestly, Roc thought that he was just too restless to sit still. Vidar had also insisted they send tickets to Mace and the other Iron Heretics that had helped them free Luca the previous year, even though he growled when Roc had told him that he’d had a friends-with-benefits arrangement with Mace for a time.
“He’s good,” Roc said, turning to look at Niko and slipping his arms around his waist. “How are you?”
Niko chewed on his bottom lip with his eyes still focused on Vidar before he nodded and looked at Roc. “I’m okay, I think. Nervous,” he said that last quietly, like he didn’t want anyone else to hear him. After the night they’d had to take Niko for stitches, things had been a little smoother between them all, but it was obvious Niko was still having a hard time dealing with Vidar being on the inside of the cage for a fight.
Roc leaned close, pressing a kiss to the side of Niko’s head and whispering against his soft, dark hair, “He’s going to be fine. You’ve seen Drake in the interviews. It’s just business for him. Being the man that got Vidar Rourke back in the cage has given him serious publicity. It’s just a fight, baby; no funny business.”
Niko nodded, cuddling closer. Big arms wrapped around them both as Vidar pressed a kiss to the top of Niko’s head and then Rocco’s cheek. “Hey, babes, everything okay?”
The fight commissioner had already been in to approve Vidar’s wraps. In less than an hour, Vidar would be stepping into the cage. Roc was surprised at the flutter of nerves that went through his own belly. He had every faith that Vidar was not only going to be fine, but that he’d also emerge victorious. He spared half a thought to the victory sex they’d all get to indulge in if that were the case before Niko’s voice drew him back to the present.
“Yep. I just wanted to check on you before it’s time and everyone was wondering how you’re feeling.”
Vidar smiled. “I feel good. Ready to go. Tell Mom to stop worrying.”
“She’s not the only one,” Niko mumbled, making Vidar squat down and wrap his arms completely around Niko’s upper thighs before standing up and taking Niko with him.
“Vi!” Niko protested, hands grabbing at Vidar’s shoulders while their Viking just laughed and dug his bearded chin into Niko’s belly. “Put me down!”
“Not until you say that you think I’m going to win.” Vidar’s smile was huge. Roc swore there was something about Niko that turned Vi into an overgrown puppy that was always ready to play. “I need to know my favorite people have my back.”
Niko’s face snapped from exasperated to serious in a blink. “I’ll always have your back, and I think you’re totally going to kick his ass.”
“Ha, that’s more like it,” Vidar said, loosening his arms enough for Niko to slide down his body, catching his lips in a hard kiss as he did. “I love you,” Vi said against Niko’s lips before he lifted his head, and once Niko’s feet were on the ground, reached an arm out to snake around Rocco’s waist and pull him in. “And you.”
“I love you, too,” Roc said, kissing Vi, then Niko. He didn’t have to add the “both” on, he knew they knew. The words had become a part of their daily lives since the first time they’d said them over a month ago. Roc had truly never been happier.
“I’m going to head back out front,” Niko said, kissing them each one more time before disentangling himself. “I’ll see you out there.”
“I’ll be out in a bit.” Roc watched him go before turning back to Vi. “This better be the last fight. I don’t know if his nerves could
handle another one.”
“I don’t know if my body can handle another one,” Vi said, rotating his shoulder and starting to bounce from foot to foot to keep his muscles warm.
“Getting to be an old man, huh?”
“Hey, watch it,” Rory piped up from beside the large flatscreen that was showing the televised version of the fights. “We’re all in that same boat.”
Which of course got Harbor going. “Don’t lump me in with you old farts.”
“Old farts? Who you calling an old fart, you blond pain in my ass,” Rory growled and lunged at Harbor who ran across the room cackling.
Roc smiled. He was so glad to be part of this crazy family.
The thundering beat of his rock intro song slammed through Vidar as he made his way up the tunnel. Roc had gone to take his seat several minutes ago, leaving Rory and Harbor flanking him on either side as he made his way into the sold out arena. The hum of the crowd swelled the anticipation in his chest. This wasn’t like his first fight which had been lower on the card with the stands only half full.
He’d never regretted that fight. That one purse had given him the down payment he’d needed for the building that housed Open Wounds and Rourke MMA, and opened up doors to a livelihood that he’d thought was beyond his reach.
Nearing the staging area, he looked over, finding family and friends cheering him on, but Roc was standing and looking down at something in his hand. Clark stood beside him, along with that damn long haired biker, Mace. There was a big bald man with a gray stripe in his goatee standing at Mace’s right flank. He appeared to be scanning the crowd around them.
“What the hell?” Vidar said, striding over, despite the protests of the official that he needed to enter the cage. “Roc!”
Roc looked up, meeting his eyes and the bottom dropped out of Vi’s stomach. Fear was etched all over that beautiful face, and he had a death grip on the phone in his hand. Roc handed the phone to Clark and hopped the barrier.
Open Wounds: The Boxed Set Page 46
