Page 104 of To Have and To Hold
He’d glanced at the bedroom door a few dozen times. He’d even gotten out of bed once but stopped short of opening the door. He knew Carson was there. The man’s deep baritone echoed loudly through the small house. And while he couldn’t make out what they were saying, he knew Slade and Carson were talking.
It was what he wanted.
But now he wanted to know what they were doing. Their voices weren’t nearly as loud, with long pauses between sentences.
Were they together?
Were the two of them fucking right now?
He groaned, his back arching, his elbows stabbing into the mattress.
He wasn’t sure whether he was turned on or pissed off. Maybe both. The thought of them together made his dick hard. At the same time, it made his chest pinch.
That was new for him. He didn’t get attached or allow himself to look at a future with anyone. That was all he seemed to be doing since he met Carson. He wasn’t sure who was responsible for opening his eyes to Slade, but they were wide open now. Was it because he’d witnessed Slade jacking off while calling out his name? Or was it because Carson brought him up during their night together?
And did it even fucking matter? They were both looped into his mental process, constantly appearing again and again.
This morning’s encounter had shifted something inside him. It had made him want something that didn’t even make sense to him. But they had to work things out between them for that to happen. It was the only way he saw this turning into something sustainable.
Was that what he wanted? A real relationship? Not just with Slade or Carson? But with SladeandCarson.
He grabbed his phone, tapped the screen, and pulled up the text message thread he had with Carson. He read through it again and again, trying to block out thoughts of the two of them together.
Reading the exchange only made him think about how he’d told Carson to come over here. To be with Slade. Just the two of them. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. They could talk while he caught up on some much-needed sleep. It had been a long day, and it wouldn’t hurt to crash early.
But now that he was sitting here, alone, while they were out there, Atticus couldn’t believe he’d done it. Couldn’t believe he’d pretended to be okay with it. He wasn’t. But not for normal reasons. He wasn’t put off by the idea of them being together. He was torn up because he wasn’t in there with them.
Before he could stop himself, he jumped to his feet and headed for the door. He wrapped his fingers around the knob and held it.
“Fuck,” he hissed, releasing the knob and taking a step back.
He couldn’t interrupt them. Carson hadn’t done that to him when he’d told Atticus to be with Slade, so what gave him the right to do it to them? This was all his fault. He was the one who—
“Atticus!”
His eyebrows shot to his hairline and he stopped breathing, not wanting to make a sound. Had they heard him? Surely not.
“Could you come in here, please?” Carson shouted.
“Shit.”
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, swallowing the anxiety that was thickening his throat.
“We’ll come in there if you’d prefer,” Slade called out.
Was that amusement or frustration in Slade’s voice? Or a mixture of both?
Atticus shook his head and rolled his eyes. He might as well. After all, they were probably going to tell him that they couldn’t settle their differences, and Atticus would have to figure it out on his own. That was the way things went for him. Just when he thought he might have something good in his life, it was usually yanked away quickly.
He pulled the door open and walked down the hall.
“Everything okay?” Carson asked.
“Peachy,” he lied, pretending he wasn’t gawking at the two of them laid out on Slade’s couch.
And they were looking all kinds of hot with Slade straddling Carson’s hips, his jeans tight across his ass, his ripped and toned upper body looming above. Damn, the man was fine.
“You sure?”
