Fuck, that’s hot.
Once everyone recovers enough to move, we end up back in the bathroom. I finish first and take the opportunity to switch out the sheets with the spare ones in the closet. By the time I’ve remade the bed, they’re still not out and I start back toward the bathroom door only to stop short when I hear their low voices.
I should turn around, should go to the kitchen and pour myself a giant glass of wine. Or some water. Something, anything, but moving closer to the bathroom door to eavesdrop. But then, I never was that good at anything resembling self-control. I lean against the wall next to the cracked door and listen.
“Why not?” That’s Grayson, his frustration evident in his voice.
“It’s easy for you to ask that.” Derek speaks softly, almost as if it pains him. “You have nothing to lose in this little game. You still have the perfect wife, the perfect fucking life. If this blows up in our faces, that won’t change.”
“If this blows up in our faces, I lose you. I hardly think that counts as nothing.”
Derek’s breath hitches. “Stop saying shit like that.”
“No. We’ve danced around this since college. You are my best friend and I love you, but I want you, Derek. I’ve wanted you since college. Tell me that the last couple days don’t feel like a missing piece sliding into place. Tell me this wasn’t fucking perfect.”
“It wasn’t fucking perfect.”
Grayson gives a bitter laugh. “Great. Now tell me without lying.”
“It won’t work. Whatever you two are picturing of a life with me, It won’t work.”
“How do you know if we don’t try?”
It doesn’t matter how compelling Grayson’s argument is. Derek has already decided. It was clear back in his bedroom with me, and it’s clear in his silence to my husband’s question. I don’t get a chance to figure out if I should interrupt. Derek stalks out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and out the door. He never once looks back.
I slump against the wall as Grayson steps into the bedroom. He looks as tired as I feel, but he tries to give me a smile. “I tried, Emma.”
“I know.” I step into his arms and give him a tight hug. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” He hesitates and finally exhales, long and slow. “Baby, I know you love him.”
“He rejected us.”
“Yes. Us.” He moves back enough to meet my gaze. “Consider this Christmas present without a finish date.”
I frown. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying even if there aren’t the three of us together, I’m not going to keep you from him.” He must see the panic fluttering through me because he quickly adds. “I’m not letting you go, baby. You’re my wife and I love you. Nothing that’s happened this weekend has changed that.” He smooths my hair back from my face. “I’m just saying that Derek has bedroom privileges for as long as you want him to.”
Three days ago, the offer might have thrilled me. Now, it feels like a sad silver medal when we could have had gold. “Did you tell him this?”
“No. It’s up to you whether you want to do anything about it.” He gives me a pained smile. “There’s no reason we should both go without.” Grayson hesitates for the barest amount. “Before you ask; it’s not just about you. I don’t want him to be alone, Emma. He won’t accept shit from me going forward, but he will from you.”
“That’s not fair,” I whisper.
“Life isn’t fair.” Grayson glances at the door. “You should—”
“No.”
“No?”
I shake my head. “He made his thoughts very clear about what we’re offering. I’m not going to go crawling back to him for a second time tonight.” I go up onto my toes and press a light kiss to my husband’s lips. “Let’s go to bed. We’ll talk more in the morning.”Chapter 16The morning dawns with skies clear of clouds. It’s beautiful and makes my chest ache for what it means.
Our holiday is over.
So is our Christmas fling with Derek.
It feels strange to stand in the kitchen and drink my coffee while the men make phone calls that will take us off this mountain and back to the real world. I have to hold perfectly still to contain my impulsive need to beg them to hang up and let us linger in this place a little while longer. It won’t help. Derek’s made up his mind about the future, and it’s cruel to hold us in this purgatory any longer than necessary.
I don’t know if Grayson told him about our conversation last night. I don’t know if I want to tell him. It doesn’t matter if Grayson gave permission, that he’s lobbing me at his best friend in a last ditch effort to keep the precarious balance between the three of us; it feels like continuing to want Derek makes me a horrible wife. I love my husband desperately. I never want a life without him in it. But the last few days have only stoked my desire for Derek—my love for him—higher.