The air stills. My words hang between us like something alive.
Boone’s jaw works, like he wants to speak but can’t find the shape of the words.
Gabe finally sets his beer down, his voice rough. “You think this… us… it can work?”
I meet his gaze, heart pounding. “I don’t know. But I want to find out. And I don’t want to pretend anymore. I don’t want to choose when my heart doesn’t want to.”
Shepard shifts, finally looking at me fully. His eyes are dark, conflicted. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.” My voice doesn’t waver this time. “But it only works if all of you want it too. If you can look at each other and know you’re in it together. Otherwise it’s not fair. To me. To any of us.”
The silence is back, heavier now, but it feels different—thoughtful, not awkward.
Boone exhales slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. He glances at Shepard, then at Gabe. “What do you think?”
Shepard rubs the back of his neck. “I think it’s complicated.”
“Everything worth it is,” Boone counters softly.
Gabe leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. His face is unreadable, but his voice is quiet. “I’ve spent years keeping walls up. For good reasons. Letting anyone in feels like walking into fire again.”
I swallow hard, watching him.
He glances at me, just for a second, then back at Boone. “But I can’t deny what I feel. Not anymore.”
Boone’s shoulders ease, his eyes softening as he looks at Gabe. Shepard shifts again, the tight line of his mouth loosening just slightly.
They’re not saying yes. Not yet. But they’re not saying no, either.
I take another breath. “All I’m asking is honesty. If we try this, if we figure it out together, then no lies. No half-truths. We talk. We trust. Or it falls apart.”
Boone nods once, firm. “Agreed.”
Shepard’s gaze flicks to me, then to Boone, then finally to Gabe. He gives a slow nod too.
Gabe is the last. He drags a hand down his face, sighs, and mutters, “Fuck it. Agreed.”
My chest loosens all at once, a rush of relief leaving me lightheaded.
Boone leans forward, elbows braced on his knees. “Then maybe we start small. Tonight. No pressure. Just… see where it goes.”
“See where it goes,” I echo, my throat thick.
The tension doesn’t vanish. It lingers, heavy in the room, but it feels like a door has cracked open. A possibility.
CHAPTER 32
Gabe
Ichew slowly, the meat barely registering on my tongue. What the hell just happened? One second, Sadie was dropping the kind of words that should’ve lit this place on fire, and the next everyone’s talking like she hadn’t just asked three grown men to figure out if they wanted to share her.
Boone is carrying the conversation like nothing’s out of the ordinary, Shepard adds the occasional quiet comment, and Sadie’s laughing at something about the fire station mural. Meanwhile, I feel like the floor just shifted under me.
I glance between them, trying to read if I’m the only one stuck in the weight of it. But Boone’s cutting into his food with calm precision, Shepard is nodding along, and Sadie’s twirling her wine glass like it’s an ordinary Wednesday.
Is it just me losing my mind here?
The meal goes on, somehow. Forks scrape against plates, Boone tells some story about Gus chasing a raccoon down the street, Shepard mutters about needing new shelving at the library. I stab a piece of potato, chew, swallow, and wonder if everyone is deliberately pretending.
