Page 90 of Four Times Taken

He squirmed. "It's not that bad when it's just us two. But I'd be lying if I said my heart wasn't pounding with anxiety that it'll soon be filled to capacity again."

I rolled on my side. "You know you don't have to live here with me, right?"

"Ouch," he said.

"No." I grinned. "That's not how I mean it. It's just that this is still new. Besides, look at all the work you guys have done to this place? I'm not ready to leave it yet."

"But your father..." he started.

"Is long gone," I reminded him, reaching across to stroke his chest.

"But I'll miss being around you twenty-four seven," he groaned.

"You're welcome to stay." I shrugged.

He considered it and kissed my hand. "I suppose it's good to have our independence. Take the time to miss each other."

"Yeah. One day, we can have that. But we don't have to rush. We're timeless, remember?" I grinned.

Chapter 54

Lily

As much as I liked having them here, it's nice getting back into a routine. Even if it means handling the loads on my own because if they even step foot in my doorway, my body is programmed to pounce on them like an ever-horny freak.

I started the morning with a video call to each of them. Eric and Ryan weren't happy in the least that I'm on my own.

"Look, I made it through the night, and I'm still in one piece," I remarked, though it wasn't easy. On the first night alone in over two weeks, I had found it hard to fall asleep, not only because of the emptiness of my bed but the emptiness of the house. I had forgotten how many noises the floorboards made on their own, and I kept getting up to make sure that no one was in the house.

After a few episodes of driving myself crazy, by the second night, I settled into the realization that I was fine, and the silence was nice. Even having the space in my small bed all to myself again was nice.

Eric and Ryan took a lot of convincing, but they're reassured when Matt and Ethan remind them they're only a phone call away. Besides, we have plans to see each other in the next couple of days once I get a grip on my self-discipline and routine, and Ryan will also be back soon.

The next hour, I spent scrolling through our text messages with each other, looking at the beautiful photos of Hawaii that Ryan sent me, and experiencing serious FOMO, watching footage of Eric and his parents, and missing him deeply, before climbing out of bed and starting my day. Every time I have to do the heavy lifting, I miss the men's brawn, but they're on strict instructions to stay away because they're balls of temptation, and I'm trying to be good.

By the time midday came, the pains I didn't miss returned with full force. I groaned at the idea of taking her on a walk before putting her down for a nap, but I mustered up the strength to do it. It's a short walk, but it's the effort that counts. She got a bit of sunshine and fresh air, and that's all that matters. I'm panting from exhaustion as I push through the front door. They say sex is exercise, so shouldn't it have made me fitter? Instead, the lack of practice from having the guys do these bits for me over the past two months has turned me sluggish.

See, that's another reason why maintaining our independence is important. I've gone from hyper-independent to relying on them for things I used to do without batting an eye. It's not that I don't think this will last, although I still struggle with my inability to accept that good things can happen to me, and the rug won't be pulled out from under my feet just as soon as I get comfortable. But what if something happens to them, or emergencies pull us away from each other, just as it has with Eric? Am I left helpless and on my own?

Doing these things on my own is comforting for me in a way, reassuring me that I'm able, no matter what happens, to carry my own weight and my mother's. Help is nice, but the load is mine to bear. Even as I think that, the guys' voices echo back at me. You could get a nurse.

I could get a nurse. That sounds nice as hell right now, and they're willing to pay. But I don't want to take advantage. Just because they have money, it doesn't mean they have to spend it. Ethan has billions though. Matt too. I still can't fathom having that much money or picture what that sum looks like. All I have is what I know, and I know we can save money if I do this myself. I almost laugh at how ridiculous that sounds, but again, it's not my money. It's just hard for me to consider that because hiring a nurse for my mother's condition is far from cheap. And I'm healthy...

enough. And capable. So, it worked out fine that I'm the one who did it. I couldn't deny how good that help would have been though.

I allowed myself to imagine what my life would look like if I weren't doing this, day in and day out, still fastened to the umbilical cord of my mother. My days wouldn't be filled with fucking. At the rate at which we fucked, without contraceptives? Whew! It wouldn't be long until I popped out babies, and I'd be tangled up in another loop of umbilical cords before I'd be able to live my life. After getting Mom down for her nap and plopping myself into the couch I had scrubbed clean of my father's scent, I painted a mental image of what my life would look like, how I'd spend the day to day, how I'd earn money doing something I loved.

As sleep weighed down my eyelids, there's was knock on my door. A persistent knock. I considered ignoring it until I heard the footsteps scamper down the steps and hit the pavement. An urgency pulled me up from the couch, and I took tentative steps toward the doorway. There weren't security cameras outside the house since they were initially bought as a way for me to keep my eyes on my mother if I had to leave the house. I'm wishing there were now as I gripped my phone, swearing when I couldn't check the footage.

A look through the peephole revealed no one, of course, because they'd run off. With a deep breath, I opened the door with the intention to not leave the security of my house until I saw that it's was just a package left on my doorstep. I let out a relieved breath and bent to pick it up. I hadn't ordered anything. I checked the package for any of the guys' names on my way up, easing the cracks out of my back.

There's was a name I didn't recognize on the box, and I groaned, leaving my doorway to track down the delivery person, but there's was no one up or down the empty streets. On a weekday, I almost expected to see tumbleweed rolling through the streets like the scene of a vacant town in an Old Western movie.

Whoever dropped this package off must have driven away, I concluded, looking at the package in my hand and wondering what I should do with it. Searching the labels for a number I could call was useless. I rubbed my head and rolled my eyes as I considered tossing the package in the trash. Or opening it? Turning around on my heels to go back inside, a familiar face in my doorway stopped me in my tracks.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" I shouted.

As soon as the words left my mouth, the world grew dark around me, and the ground was pulled out from underneath my feet. Or more aptly, the rug was pulled out from underneath my feet. That metaphorical rug I was talking about earlier? Yup, the time had come. My body hit the hard ground, and I struggled to stand again. The world was spinning, and I had the quick thought that I'm was like a cartoon character with a ring of smoke around my head, moving in circles.

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