Page 17 of In Too Deep

“I promise it’s not a sex toy,” Spencer says with a chuckle as I pick up the lump of wrapping paper and tape he’s given me.

I laugh and shake my head. “You mean y’all didn’t sit around and make molds of your cocks together?” I fire back.

The boys laugh, and I rip open the paper with care. I don’t know what’s going to fall out of the package, but my fingers brush over supple leather rather than rubber or silicone. For a moment, I wonder if Spencer got me a BDSM harness or something, but once I can take the whole thing in, I realize it’s some sort of messenger bag. The black leather is soft, the stitching impeccable, and the gold hardware so polished I can see my reflection. But then I turn it around and my jaw drops as I see the logo embossed on the front.

“Spencer, no, I can’t—” I start, words cut off as I have to choke back tears.

“Well, I broke your other one. So it’s only right that I replace it,” he retorts too casually.

“This probably cost more than my mortgage!” I exclaim, hands shaking.

Spencer, the bastard, just shrugs, smirking like he didn’t just give me a luxury bag to replace the ratty work bag I’d picked up at the discount store a few years ago. If it wasn’t so sweet, I’d be tempted to throw it at his head. That and I really do need a new bag, and one that’s built to last. I shoot him one more glare before I set the expensive-ass bag down beside the dildo, the oddest couple if there ever was one, picking up the gift bag with trepidation. But inside, I find a flat square box and an envelope.

“Open the box first,” Oli prompts, sitting forward in his seat.

I glance at him, my brow furrowing as I see the serious and perhaps slightly anxious tension in Oli’s amber eyes. His hands twist together as they hang between his knees, and I’m suddenly not sure if I want to open this gift. But everyone is watching me, and it’s getting more awkward the longer I wait. So, I just rip off the metaphorical band-aid, pulling the lid off the box and bracing myself for whatever might be inside.

When angry hornets don’t come flying out, I peek into the box through my lashes as I squint. But my spine straightens, and Iopen my eyes fully as I see a key ring resting on purple tissue paper, a metal and enamel charm in the shape of the Mystic logo—something I’m almost positive we sell in the arena gift shop—connected to a ring. And on that ring are three keys, each with a different colored rubber ring around the head. I look up, frowning in confusion.

“It’s beyond time for you to have keys to the St. Charles house, princess. I can show you what each other those goes to when we get home. You’ll need to come over to get the rest of your luggage,” Oli explains.

I reel back, shaking my head as I try to parse through the layers of that declaration, and my mind latches onto the last bit first.

“Rest of my luggage?” I repeat, sounding crazy even to my own ears.

Oli nods. “The bag we packed for you is part of a five-piece set. It seemed silly to pack anything larger than the carry on for the three-day trip, so I left the bigger bags and the garment bag at home.”

My head whips around to the doorway leading to my chosen bedroom, my heart racing. Luggage isn’t a cheap gift either, and I doubt he went to a big-box store for his purchase. Distantly, I can’t help but realize that the luggage matches the bag Spencer just gave me, which is oddly touching. Like they want me to be classy and coordinated when I travel. And it would be nice to replace the bags I’ve been hauling all over North America for the last few years. But then I look back down at the house keys in my hand and my body goes a little cold.

“I... I don’t know about this,” I mutter, trying to sort through the swirling feelings in my chest.

“We’re not asking you to move in, sugar. Your house is closer to the arena, which is awesome for your job, and that’s your space, which you obviously can do whatever with. This is just soyou can let yourself in when we’re gone if you want to be in the house. I mean, you can come over when we’re there, too, if you want. And if you want to move in later, that would be awesome. But there’s no pressure or anything—”

I let out a snort of errant laughter, slapping a hand over my mouth to stifle it as I look at Spencer’s face. The color has drained away, leaving stark lines of panic behind. It’s sweet, really. They’re offering up free access to their space, but not demanding I do the same. And he’s right. They aren’t telling me to move in. It’s just a set of keys, an unspoken but permanent invitation to their house, allowing me to come and go as I please.

My instincts are fighting with the logical part of my brain and, for once, I give myself space to listen to my more primal self. These men, these alphas, have shown me over and over that the power in our relationships is in my hands. We may have agreed on calling this “casually exclusive,” but that’s only because that’s the label I was most comfortable with at the time. But my instincts—more present than ever, thanks to the changes in my medicine regimen—are set on full steam ahead. I know on a soul-deep level that these boys aren’t going to hurt me, and this is a gesture of their trust in me.

I pick up the keys and curl my fingers around them in a fist. Accepting this feels more like a massive leap forward in our relationship than a baby step, but it doesn’t feel wrong either. Especially when I look around and see relieved smiles across their handsome faces. I turn to Oli as I hold them close to my chest for a moment before setting them down.

“I appreciate this, thank you. I’ll try not to barge in too often.” I try for a joke to relieve the layer of tension that’s descended onto us.

“Oh, please do. I could use the break from these two chuckleheads,” Eli retorts, laughing along with me.

Oli laughs, but Spencer chucks a throw pillow at his roommate’s head, making all of us laugh a little harder. I pick up the envelope, ready to just slice it open. But Oli clears his throat, making me freeze.

“Before you open that, there’s something we’d like to talk about.” He shifts in his chair again.

This nervous fidgeting, so unlike the calm alpha I’m used to, makes my stomach twist around itself. The wine in my belly seems to roil, my instincts picking up on something I can’t consciously identify. Nodding, I set the envelope down, bringing one of my legs to my chest so I can wrap my arms around it, waiting.

Oli takes a deep breath, his gaze falling from my face to somewhere on the floor between us. The sun has long since set, and the very last rays illuminate one half of his handsome face, the other half painted in green and gold from the string lights. The sound of waves crashing fills the air, the white noise quality taking me back to when we were trapped indoors during the hurricane. Candlelight and too much hard liquor are the only things missing.

“I know we haven’t known each other that long, and we agreed to take things slow. But if we’re going to continue, then I feel like we have to be honest with our intentions,” he starts, still not looking at me.

My stomach flips unpleasantly again, my frown deepening. I don’t know what to make of his words, so I stay silent and wait, even if I want to shake him until he spits out whatever he’s trying to get at.

“Eli and I... we’ve been together for years, but we’ve had to hide it. From the team, from my family, from the public. And we’re done. So we want to go public,” Oli goes on, stopping and starting as he chooses his words with care.

My lips curl up in a smile, relaxing a little. “That’s great! I can’t wait—”

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