Page 99 of To Have and To Hold
—He hates me. And before you argue, he told me as much. Said I didn’t deserve him. Or you. I don’t think talking will help.
Enough time passed that Carson was thinking he’d said the wrong thing. But he was doing his best to be honest about what he wanted. It wouldn’t do him any good to seduce Atticus without full transparency. Yeah, their night together had been epic, but Carson knew that was partly because he’d fantasized about Slade joining them. Not at first, no. But after Atticus’s reaction to his comment about Slade, the seed had been planted.
He stared at his phone, willing those stupid dots to bounce, some sort of signal that Atticus was going to respond. There weren’t any dots, and there still weren’t any.
Then his phone rang, and he flinched, dropping it into his lap. He exhaled with a laugh as he picked it up and answered.
“I figured it’d be easier to talk than type,” Atticus said.
“It would be really easy if y’all would just come over for dinner,” Carson told him. “We can talk then.”
“I think you need to come over here. And talk to Slade.”
“So you said, but I’ve already tried to talk to him. He wants noth—”
“Not to talk,” Atticus interjected.
“If you think for a second he’s gonna—”
“What he wants is to know you want him.”
Carson wasn’t sure he was hearing Atticus correctly. He replayed the words over a few times but still came up with the same result. “Did he say that?”
“No. We haven’t talked about you.”
That wasn’t the first time Atticus had said that. It was as though he was trying to clarify that his relationship with Slade had nothing to do with Carson. Not that he expected it to. Yeah, sure, it was a nice fantasy, but Carson wasn’t delusional.
But Atticus continued. “We haven’t talked about a damn thing because he won’t fucking talk.”
Welcome to my world.Although Slade believed he clarified his wants and needs, the guy refused to talk. That had always been the case. He didn’t open up unless you dragged the information out of him, and even then, it was limited. No, Slade was more of the passive-aggressive type, ensuring everyone knew how unhappy he was by his body language and nothing more.
“What makes you think he’ll talk to me?”
“The night you told me to go to his house … before I left for training. I saw the way he looked at you when you were talkin’ about … you know.”
“About my devious desires?” Carson huffed, unable to hide his frustration.
“No one said they’re devious.”
Slade did, but Carson figured there was no need to dredge up a conversation that had taken place months ago.
“The night I went to Slade’s house, I … I didn’t understand it,” Atticus said. “And I’m not saying I understand it now, but no matter what, I would’ve needed that with him. I think he needs that with you.”
“Are you sayin’…?” Carson didn’t dare get his hopes up.
“No,” Atticus answered quickly. “I have no idea what’ll happen in the future, but I know … I know that if I was forced to choose between you and Slade right now, I couldn’t. I would have to walk away.”
Carson wasn’t sure what to say to that. He damn sure didn’t want to put Atticus into a position that would result in him disappearing from Carson’s life altogether.
Atticus’s voice softened. “What happened this morning … it was kind of an eye-opener for me. I want to explore something with both of you, but…”
“But you don’t intend to choose one way or the other?”
“I don’t,” Atticus said, sounding sad. “I can’t. And maybe that’s the way it’s meant to be. Maybe the two of you will rekindle whatever you had, and I’ll be in your rearview before—”
“That won’t happen,” Carson said firmly. “I can tell you right now, it won’t happen.”
“Come over here and spend one night with Slade. No one else, Carson. Don’t bring anyone else into it. No fantasies. Just Slade.”
