Page 43 of Filthy Rich Single Daddies

Cohen's quiet voice cuts through the tension. "And what about Skylar? Have you asked what she wants?"

The question hits me like a punch to the gut. Because the truth is, I haven't. I've been too afraid of her answer, too scared of pushing her away completely.

"No," I admit. "But I think...I think she needs all of us. In different ways."

The room falls silent again, each of us lost in our own thoughts, our own desires. I can't help but wonder what Skylar would say if she could see us now, plotting and planning like she's some prize to be won.

But that's not what this is. It's about giving her— giving all of us—the freedom to explore something that feels inevitable.

“I’m not walking away from her. And I’m not giving up.” I swirl the amber liquid in my glass, watching the light catch on its surface. "Skylar isn't some fleeting thing, guys. She's not temporary, and she's definitely not a toy." My voice grows soft, almost reverent. "She's my forever. But maybe...maybe she could be ours too."

Cohen leans forward, his blue eyes intense. "That's a big leap, Theo. Are you sure you've thought this through?"

I chuckle, but there's no humor in it. "It's all I've been thinking about."

Austin paces near the window, his body taut with tension. "This will never work. The two of you will fight. You’ll want to own her. Sharing a quick fuck is one thing. You’re talking about sharing an entire relationship."

“And you’re talking like you’re not included in this. The only person you’re bullshitting is yourself. It’s inevitable, Austin. Don’t even try to fucking deny it.”

But it could. I think about all the late nights brainstorming business ideas, supporting them through failed relationships, celebrating victories both big and small. We've been through it all together.

"Look at us," I say, gesturing around the room. "We've built an empire together, navigated personal shit that would've torn most friendships apart. Hell, we’ve even managed to live together without killing each other."

Cohen snorts at that, a small smile tugging at his lips.

I continue, my voice gaining strength. "If anyone can make this work, it's us. We've always had each other's backs. Why should this be any different?"

Austin stops pacing, his expression conflicted. "It's not that simple, Theo. Skylar isn't just another business venture."

"No," I agree, meeting his gaze. "She's so much more. Which is exactly why we need to approach this together. United."

The room falls silent as we each contemplate the weight of what I'm proposing. It's unconventional as fuck, maybe even crazy.

Austin starts pacing the room again. His controlled facade is cracking, revealing the turmoil beneath. "This is insane," he mutters. "She's not...we can't just..."

"Why not?" I challenge, watching him closely. "Tell me you don't want her, Austin. Look me in the eye and say you haven't thought about it."

He stops, turning to face me. For a moment, I see a glimpse of the raw need he's been trying so hard to hide. It mirrors my own, and I know—we're all in deeper than we ever expected.

“No.” There’s a finality in his tone, but we both know it’s a fucking lie. He wants her. He just doesn’twantto want her.

“You’re going to crack. It might not be today, it might not be tomorrow, but you are going to crack. You want her just as badly as Cohen.”

“You’re so willing to share this woman you love? The one that got away? Love of your life ripped from you too soon, and now you finally have a second chance, and you want to throw her at me and Cohen, too?” He laughs humorlessly. “Nah, I don’t think so, Theo.”

“She was never meant to be caged, Austin. That girl has been through hell and she has survived, thrived even. She deserves all the love and affection. All of it. And so do you two. Your ex-wives are life-sucking demons. Skylar is…she’s sunshine and freedom.

Austin’s jaw tightens, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "And you think the answer is splitting her between us? You think that’s what she deserves? To be passed around like some...some consolation prize?"

"Stop being so damn reductive," I snap, my patience wearing thin. "This isn’t about ownership or taking turns. This is about her choosing what she wants—who she wants—and not being shackled by anyone’s expectations. Not yours, not mine, not Cohen’s."

Austin exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. His pacing slows, but his agitation simmers just below the surface. "You just said she hides from what the two of you have.And we’re supposed to throw all this at her, expecting her to just...what? Embrace it?"

“She’ll come to us when she’s ready,” I say firmly. “But she can’t do that if we’re too busy tripping over our own damn insecurities. Do you want her or not, Austin?”

He glares at me, the intensity in his eyes almost enough to make me back down. Almost. "Not."

"Bullshit. You're not fooling anyone—not me, not Cohen, not yourself, and definitely not Skylar. You think she doesn’t notice the way you look at her? She’s not blind, Austin. And she’s not stupid.”

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