by Liz Meldon
But when her little ball of white fluff hadn’t been at the door to greet her, she’d known something was wrong. She had eventually found him in the laundry closet, curled up in a corner. His body hung limp when she picked him up, prompting Skye to burst into tears and call Cole.
A half hour later, with a lot consoling and sweet-talking on Cole’s part to keep her from spiraling into worst-case scenarios, here they were. The emergency veterinary hospital was located on the other side of the Coral Bay suburbs, and because they had been the only ones there at the time, Oz had seen a vet right away. In the exam, Oz had been dubbed dehydrated and lethargic, and the vet seemed to think he had eaten something that didn’t agree with him. When they were asked if it was okay to do x-rays, Cole had agreed right away and told Skye he would cover the costs.
“We’ll rule out everything,” he had insisted. So, there they were, waiting, hoping the veterinarian would find the source of Ozzy’s pain. Skye had managed to stop crying by the time they went in for the exam, but Cole had had to check them in at the front desk when they first arrived. Even though she hadn’t come to any lasting decisions about what she wanted to do with their relationship, Skye was beyond grateful to have him there beside her, and would remember it forever.
She slumped down in her seat, casting Cole an appreciative look before letting him take her hand.
“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” she muttered, watching his thumb sweep over her skin in slow, even strokes. “I didn’t think I would be. I thought I’d know exactly what to do whenever Oz got sick, but…”
“Well, now you’ll know for next time,” Cole insisted with a little half-smile. “We’re all a bit of a disaster the first time we go through a crisis. Don’t worry about it now. I’m here to pick up the slack.”
She nodded, all the while knowing she’d still be embarrassed tomorrow morning about just how emotional the situation had made her. Still. Skye loved her silly, fluffy, pampered cat. He was family, and he was hurting. She would question herself if she hadn’t been an emotional wreck.
The doors from the main reception area flew open suddenly, and both she and Cole’s heads snapped in their direction. In strode Finn, dressed in a dapper tuxedo with the bowtie hanging loose and the top buttons of his shirt undone. He swept across the room, headed straight for her, and Skye found she didn’t have the emotional energy to get wrapped up in the fact that both Cole and Finn were here together. All of her feelings were compartmentalized for Oz, though she still blushed furiously when Finn swooped down, cupped her face, and kissed her hard on the lips before taking a seat in the chair on the other side of her.
“How are you?” he asked, his hand on her knee, charcoal-black eyes darting from her to Cole and back again. “How is he? Where is he? What’s happening?”
“They’re taking him for x-rays,” Cole replied, perhaps sensing that Skye couldn’t. “The vet thinks he ingested a foreign body that’s causing his stomach some trouble. They should be back momentarily.”
“Oh, Skye, I’m sorry.” Finn gave her knee a little squeeze—all the while Cole continued to hold her hand. Skye looked between them, mildly dumbfounded that they were both there for her, offering physical comfort. Other men who had been sleeping with the same woman might have taken a swing at each other first.
“I… I’m just worried about Oz,” she managed with a sniffle, and Finn nodded, eyes oozing such open, raw affection that it actually revived her dormant butterflies.
“Of course you are.” Finn tucked her hair behind her ear, sighing. “I’m sure he’ll be just fine. My sister adopted a kitten for her daughter last month, and the little bugger gets into everything. They’re quite resilient.”
Cole chuckled. “Siobhan finally caved?”
“She paid two thousand dollars for one of those hypoallergenic breeds, but yes, Odette finally has her very own cat.”
“Cheeky thing.”
“She’s been laying on the charm for months.”
“That niece of yours…”
“Master manipulator, I agree.”
Skye looked between the men on either side of her, brow slightly furrowed, and listened to their easy back-and-forth about Finn’s family. Either they were really good actors, or they genuinely had no animosity about the predicament the trio found themselves in. She nibbled her lower lip and inhaled deeply, finding herself relaxing at the sounds of their voices. Somehow, having both of them there felt…right?
Clearing her throat, Skye scooted to the edge of her chair, forcing Finn’s hand off her knee and releasing Cole’s in the process. It shouldn’t feel right to be in love with two men; it wasn’t fair to either of them, but now wasn’t the time to think about it. Her baby was on the other side of that off-limits door, with strangers, feeling like shit. Boy drama could wait. Skye threaded her hands together and rested her chin on them, elbows on her knees, and looked at the door like it might magically open if she stared hard enough.
Cole and Finn’s conversation hiccupped briefly when she withdrew, but it picked up moments later, softly, and Skye found herself appreciating the background noise. If she were here alone, in silence, there would be nothing to keep her panicky thoughts at bay.
Ten minutes later, Cole’s phone shrieked, piercing the easy quiet so abruptly that Skye jumped. She glanced back and found him fumbling to get it out—only to reject the call and shove it back in his pocket. Their eyes met, and he shook his head when she raised a curious eyebrow.
Huh. That was a first.
His phone rang twice more a few minutes later, after Finn had started massaging the back of Skye’s neck, the trio sitting in a companionable silence. Each time, Cole rejected it, but Skye could see the tension in his jaw after the third one. Sitting up, she set a hand on his thigh and told him to just answer it.
“No, it’s not important—”
“Cole,” she said, meeting his gaze firmly, “it’s okay. You can answer if you need to. If it wasn’t important, they wouldn’t keep calling at…” A quick glance at the clock hanging near the TV made her groan. “Midnight.”
“I…” His phone went off again, and Skye managed a genuine smile, one she actually meant.
“Really. Go answer it.”
He hesitated a few seconds longer, letting the phone ring on in his hand, before leaning forward and planting a hasty kiss on her cheek. “Thank you. I’ll be one minute, I promise.”
“It’s fine,” she told him as he hurried out the room, smothering a tired laugh at the sound of him snapping a What?! to whoever was on the other end. If Finn hadn’t been there, she might not have been so receptive to him taking a phone call. However, Skye could tell from Cole’s body language, from the tightness of his voice, that he didn’t want to take it. The change from what he might have done a month ago was startling.
“Must be important,” Finn commented as he cracked his neck, tossing his head side to side casually. “We’re both taking some time off from work this week.”
“I’m sure it is.” Work always was, after all. She offered Finn a small smile, her hand on his forearm. “Thank you for being here. You really didn’t have to come—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said brusquely.
“Seriously. Oz isn’t your cat. I wouldn’t expect you to—”
“I’m here for you, Skye.” Finn grinned, her butterflies doing big, arcing loops at the sight. “Cole called me while he was driving to your place. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right here with both of you. Honestly.”
Both of you. There it was again—a reference to multiple people, like all three of them were in a relationship. Skye swallowed hard, deftly dodging the implication and tucking it away for later.
“Well, I appreciate it.” She drew a breath, about to ask him where he had been when Cole called—based on the tux, it also seemed important—but the reappearance of the vet technician from earlier shut her right up. She stood as the woman in puppy-patterned orange scrubs held the door open, her expr
ession giving Skye hope for good news.
“We’re all finished back here,” the technician remarked, nodding to the hallway behind her. “Oz did great. Why don’t you come and have a chat with the vet?”
Skye hurried forward, only to stop when she realized Cole wasn’t back yet. She looked to the door he had stormed through minutes earlier, then shook her head and went on without him. Finn grabbed her hand once she crossed into the sterile-smelling hallway that led to the exam rooms, slowing her frantic pace slightly. However, before they had taken more than five steps , Cole came stumbling through the heavy metal off-limits door, catching it just before it swung closed.
“Is everything okay?” she asked as he marched toward her, then let out a muffled squeal when his lips collided shamelessly with hers. His hand pressed to her lower back, holding her there, and her butterflies turned into fireworks, crackling and spinning about inside.
“Everything’s great,” he said somewhat breathlessly when he pulled back, nodding. “Perfect. Let’s go see our little man, shall we?”
She caught Finn and Cole exchanging quick, unreadable looks over her head, both suddenly grinning like idiots, and then noticed the vet tech gawking at all three of them. Cheeks red, Skye met the woman’s eye and cleared her throat, prompting her to resume leading them down the hall to the exam room, where hopefully the vet was waiting with good news about her fluffy furbaby.
21
All In
Skye awoke the following morning feeling like she’d been hit by a truck. Groaning, she rubbed her forehead, her eyes swollen from crying so excessively the night before.
It quickly became apparent that all her discomfort stemmed from the fact that she wasn’t sleeping in her bed. Her eyes flew open. No, she had fallen asleep on the couch—with Cole and Finn on either side of her, pressed up against the armrests on each end, both of them snoring softly. She sat up, careful not to jostle either of them. Her head had been resting on Cole’s thigh, while her legs were tossed over Finn’s hip; both men looked incredibly squished in their current positions, and she knew they’d feel just as shitty as she did when they finally came to.
Unable to ignore the call of the toilet for long, she gingerly extracted herself from the strange sleeping situation, then tiptoed across the apartment to her bedroom. Once there, she stripped out of last night’s work clothes—also not conducive for a great sleep—and took care of what she needed to in the bathroom. Teeth brushed. Face washed. Hair combed and thrown up in a bun. Skye grabbed the frilly pink booty shorts she occasionally slept in and slipped those on, followed by the oversized T-shirt of kitten Oz that was hanging on the towel rack. Without a bra beneath it, the old tee was nearly see-through, but she was too wrecked from last night to care.
Studying herself in the mirror, she found a small smile spreading across her lips at the sight of kitten Ozzy staring back at her, a baby blue bow around his neck. Her darling little man was currently recuperating from a bout of acute gastritis at the veterinary hospital. Apparently, the x-ray had showed a bit of ribbon in his stomach, and when the vet told her, Skye had been mortified—because she’d known instantly it was her fault Ozzy was in so much pain.
A few days ago, Cole’s assistant had dropped off a mountain of gifts for Oz’s birthday, a gesture that Skye had taken seriously to heart regarding her future romantic relationship with the man. Oz had played in the wrapping paper, chased the ribbons around as Skye dragged them across the couch, and turned into a crazy stoner cat after rolling around in all the expensive catnip. When they had finished celebrating, Skye had cleaned up, put all the toys and whatnot away, and that was the end of it.
Oz must have found a ribbon worth eating behind her back, and that had triggered all his issues. Cole had also been horrified, and had immediately blamed himself for using ribbons on the gifts. There had been a bit of back-and-forth between them about who was more at fault, each of them blaming themselves as the vet and his technician stood by awkwardly, until Finn shut the whole argument down by stating they both were and weren’t to blame for what had happened. It’d been a horrible accident, but Oz was going to be okay. That was all that mattered.
While the vet had insisted she could take Oz home that night, Cole and Finn argued the man into a corner, insisting Ozzy be kept for observation with the finest care available. Skye watched, hugging her baby with his little IV to her chest, as both men pushed for all the upgrades, top-dollar charges—whatever was necessary to ensure that Oz had someone constantly watching him for the next two days, or until the ribbon safely passed. While the situation had been a bit tense with all of Cole and Finn’s demands, it was clear the vet technicians assigned to Oz would take great care of her baby. In the morning, they’d planned to call her actual veterinarian and get him up to speed on things.
So, after all those tears, Oz was going to be fine. Still, Skye couldn’t resist contacting both her vet and the emergency hospital after she got changed. Padding back out to the living room, she saw Cole rubbing his eyes, head flung over the armrest of the couch, and Finn sitting up and stretching his neck. Skye quietly dug her phone out of her purse and barricaded herself in the guest room to make all the necessary calls.
Fifteen minutes later, she had spoken to everyone she needed to. Skye had given her permission for Oz to be transferred to her normal veterinary clinic, where he would be staying in a “deluxe suite,” whatever that was, for the next two days. Apparently he was eating well this morning, and her vet assured her they would call if he was ready to go home early. At no point did anyone suggest they were monitoring him for anything life-threatening, and when Skye hung up, she let out a long, much-needed sigh of relief. Phone cradled in her hands, she glanced at the closed guest room door, listening to the faint sounds of life on the other side.
Now that Oz was taken care of, she had two other important men she needed to address. In no way was it acceptable to hide out in here until they gave up and left, so Skye took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders back, and stood. Before things had gone south with Ozzy, she’d been leaning toward listening to what Finn and Cole had to say regarding this thing they were all engaged in. After their support last night, she felt she owed it to both of them to at least hear them out.
When she returned to the living room, gripping her phone tightly in one hand, she found Cole filling her kettle and Finn strolling out of her bedroom, presumably having just used her bathroom. No one said a word, the silence heavy when Cole turned off the tap and set the kettle to boil. Wordlessly, the boys headed back to the couch, expressions more guarded than she would have liked, and Skye followed soon after. However, rather than settling in between them as she had last night, she pushed the coffee table out a bit and sat there.
“How’s Oz?” Cole asked, the first to break the silence. Skye nodded and smiled.
“Good. He’s doing really good. They’re going to watch him for the next few days, but the vet thinks I’ll be able to pick him up tomorrow, which is good.”
“Good.”
“Yeah, really good.”
“Good,” Finn added, smirking. Skye’s cheeks warmed.
Ugh. When she thought back to last night, nothing had been awkward or tense. They’d all come back to her apartment, each one exhausted, pizza delivery on the way, and plopped down on the couch. Lacking the energy to talk, Skye had turned on the TV—and that was the last thing she remembered. They all must have fallen asleep at some point together, because they’d been in the same positions when she had woken up that morning, an empty pizza box on her kitchen island.
“Look,” she started, knowing she ought to take the lead here. “Thank you for last night. I don’t know what I would have done without you, either of you.” Her gaze darted between Finn and Cole. “So, thanks. I really do appreciate it.”
Finn dipped his head, a hint of dark bags starting to show under his eyes. “Of course. We’d do it all over again if we had to.”
There it was again—we. Skye nibbled her low
er lip, staring them both down for a moment before taking a deep breath and carrying on.
“Right. So, I think that’s a good segue into…a less comfortable conversation,” she said, setting her phone aside and resting her elbows on her knees. Both men, to their credit, appeared to be trying very hard to keep their eyes on her face, and not the see-through shirt with her nipples poking through or the generous amount of skin her little shorts showed off.
“It doesn’t need to be uncomfortable,” Finn argued lightly. “We have a proposition for you. All you have to do is hear us out.”
Skye could do that. She hadn’t exactly been looking forward to baring her soul and sharing just how difficult the last month had been for her without either of them in her life. So, she gestured for someone to start speaking. The pair exchanged looks, color rising in Cole’s cheeks, but, much to her surprise, it was Cole who then took the lead.
“Skye,” he said, clearing his throat. Her eyes dipped down to his hands, but only one pulsed in and out of a fist. She understood the physical ticks better now after their last conversation, and she tried not to stare too pointedly at it, worried her attention might make him more anxious.
Cole hesitated for a moment, then pressed both palms flat on his thighs. “Skye, I’ve been in love with you for…for a long time now.”
She blinked, her mind clicking to out-of-signal TV static at the news. Heat crawled up her body and pooled in her cheeks, the declaration doing horrible, wonderful things to just about every bodily system. It took everything she had not to jump up and dance around her apartment, screaming gleefully. Because it wasn’t just her and Cole in this conversation. Skye shot a panicky look to Finn, worried suddenly for his feelings with this new revelation. He stared back, a small smile tugging at his lips, and said nothing. Swallowing hard, she brought her attention back to Cole, still trying to process the words that had just come out of his mouth.
