Page 65 of Piece Us Together

He lifts his chin, eyes finding mine. I can’t place the emotions in them. There are so many of them. Too many. “You notice a lot about me, don’t you?”

I settle back against the counter, cradling my own coffee against my stomach. It’s very early in the morning for this conversation, and I don’t know if he trusts me nearly enough to hear me out, but if this is my only shot, I have to take it. “Yes, Maison. I do. But you’re also very much a mystery. Possibly the hardest person I’ve ever tried to read.”

“What have you noticed?” he asks, ignoring the last part of my statement.

“Well, you don’t trust easily, but something has shifted with us and you’ve started trusting me.” I wince, suddenly unsure if that was the right thing to say. “Cautiously, of course. I’m by no means under the impression that you fully trust me yet. I’m not sure you ever will. But I’ve started building it, I think.”

“How can you tell?”

“Well, there’s the fact that you’ve stopped giving me the warning glares that always reminded me exactly how comfortable you looked with that gun when we first met. You’ve also stopped questioning my decisions or looking nervous during scenes.” I tilt my head, eyeing him as I decide what he can handle hearing today. I wouldn’t mind planting a bit of a seed for what I’ve been hoping for, but too big a seed is going to send this skittish man running for the hills. “Last night, you let me touch you.”

His cheeks flush as he quickly drops his gaze to his mug. I’m kind of glad he looks away. It’s nearly impossible not to grin at his blush, and I don’t think he’d like that. “That wasn’t—it was just a little touching.”

“If I had touched you like that the first night we all spent together, you would have decked me.”

Maison chuckles, his shoulders relaxing a little at the humor. “True.”

“I noticed you liked it,” I find the confidence to say. “Me touching you last night.”

His blush from before deepens in color, growing until it disappears beneath his t-shirt. He clears his throat, shifting his weight around, then clears his throat again. “It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t much, even. But not…bad.”

I study him for a moment, taking advantage of the rare closeness. He and Nolan are unfairly beautiful, a little ball of sunshine and his storm cloud. I wish I knew what stole the sunshine from Maison. I’d love for them both to be bright. To be happy.If I figure out the problem, would Maison let me fix it? Could I be lucky enough to be the man that helps both of them?

“Have you thought more about my offer?”

“The—the one about all three of us being together?”

“Yes.”

He shrugs. “I think what we’re doing now is good.” He hesitates, his eyes darting up to me. “It’s—itisgood, right?”

“It’s great, Maison. Absolutely.”

“And if it’s all I can ever give?”

My heart hurts for him. Because it’s not all he wants, I can see that clear as day, but it’s all he’s going to let himself have. I don’t know why. I don’t know if I’ll ever understand it. I certainly don’t know how to fix it.

But I’ll figure out a way to accept it. I have to.

“If that’s all you can ever give, it’ll be enough.”

His chin wobbles, his eyes falling to the side. I can practically see the wheels in his head turning. I let them spin, wondering if he’s about to admit to wanting more. Wondering what I could say to get him to give in to his want without scaring him away. Wondering if we would need to wake Nolan for any further conversation about it.

I brace myself when his eyes return to mine.

“Any chance you can cook?”

I blink at him, my own wheels trying to catch up. “Uh—well, I can hold my own with the basics.”

“Good, because I’m so bad at cooking that I can literally burn water, but I’ve always wanted to make Nolan breakfast in bed.” He blushes again, but this one is a soft blush, something he doesn’t duck his head to hide. It’s the blush of someone stupidly in love, but happy about it. It looks good on him. “Think we could figure out pancakes? They’re his favorite.”

Something warm unfurls in my chest. He may not have admitted what I was hoping he would, but this issomething, at least.It’s another sign of trust, isn’t it? Another step in the right direction?

Even if it’s not, it’s more time spent with him. With both of them today. Considering the whole falling in love with them thing, I’ll take any time I can get.

“Yeah.” I grin. “I bet we can figure those out.”

I don’t know what Nolan is more perplexed about when we join him in bed—the tray filled with food, the lumpiness of the pancakes, or the flour in Maison’s hair and the batter on my sweatshirt.

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