Page 114 of Stuck with my Mountain Daddies

I watched her walk away, and my chest ached in that way it always did around her. Tight, too full. It couldn’t contain the weight of everything I wasn’t saying.

By the time I’d cleaned up the last of the coffee crime scene, both Beckett and Asher had dragged themselves into the kitchen, looking like they’d fought the night and lost.

“Who spilled the beans?” Beckett muttered, blinking at the counter. “Or was it just coffee?”

“Just coffee,” I said. “And Riley’s sock. Moment of silence.”

Asher poured what was left into a mug and passed one to Beckett.

“You look like hell,” he said to me.

“Didn’t sleep.”

“Same,” Beckett said, sipping. “Can’t stop thinking about it.”

Asher glanced between us. Serious now. “We need to talk to her.”

I stared at him. “Lucy?”

Beckett scrubbed a hand through his hair, jaw set like concrete. “We’ve been cowards about it.”

“She deserves the truth,” Asher said. “All of it.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, already feeling the weight of it. “Even if it changes everything.”

“Especially then,” Beckett said quietly. “Because we can’t sneak around forever. Notnow.”

“The relationship, she’ll understand,” I muttered. “I mean, this is Medford. Plus, Lucy has a lot of love for Lila, Sadie, and Aurora.”

“But Riley…” Asher nodded. “That’s the bit she might not be so keen on.”

Riley returned, back in her clothes, hair tied up like armor. She took one look at our faces and stilled.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

I met her eyes. “We want to tell Lucy. Today. All of us.”

Her mug hovered midair. She blinked. “All three of you?”

“All ofus,” Asher said. “It’s time.”

Riley didn’t move. Not at first. Then she nodded, slow and distant. But it wasn’t a real yes.

“Okay,” she said softly. “Yeah. That makes sense.”

But the way she stood, tight shoulders, distant stare, told a whole other story.

“Riley,” I said, gentle now. “Talk to us.”

Her arms came up around her chest as if she was trying to hold herself together. The brightness she’d walked in with had faded.

“I know it’s the right thing,” she said, voice tight. “Lucy deserves honesty. And I hate lying to her.”

“But?” Beckett prompted.

Her voice dropped. “But I’m scared. I’m so damn scared.”

She turned to the window, watching snow drift like it wasn’t the sky that was falling, it was her.

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