Page 49 of Stuck with my Mountain Daddies

Asher’s tone was softer than I’d ever heard it. “Now it feels like something worth risking again.”

I didn’t breathe for a second. “Me?”

Beckett didn’t look away. “Yeah. You.”

Garrett stepped closer. “We’re not asking for anything right now. No decisions. No pressure. We just needed you to know where we stand.”

“I came here to disappear,” I confessed. “To figure out who I was without the noise.”

Beckett’s expression shifted, only a flicker, but enough.

“And?” Garrett asked.

I looked at each of them, letting the moment stretch before I allowed more honesty to shine free.

“I don’t know how this works,” I admitted. “It’s terrifying.”

Beckett pushed off the wall, his voice steady. “Then we take it slow.”

Garrett nodded. “We go at your pace.”

Asher grinned. “We’re not in a hurry. We just didn’t want to pretend this is happening anymore.”

I stared down at my hands, my pulse racing so loud it felt like it echoed in my ears. “Lucy’s gonna kill me.”

They all laughed, startled and a little tense, like they hadn’t been sure I’d say anything at all.

Garrett smiled first. “Lucy’s protective, yeah. But she also trusts you.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” I said, forcing a shaky laugh. “She sent me up here toheal, not…” I gestured vaguely toward them, “whatever this is.”

Beckett’s voice was quiet but firm. “Maybe healing doesn’t mean staying untouched. Maybe it means letting yourselffeelagain.”

That hit somewhere I hadn’t opened in a long time.

I stood, pacing to the window, wrapping my arms around myself. Snow tapped against the glass like it was urging me to answer, to move, to decide.

For a second, panic gripped me.

The world I came from would never understand. The internet would tear me apart, with headlines and comment sections and hot takes from strangers who’d never met me but somehow knew everything about me.

Influencer caught in mountain love entanglement.

Are they really her best friend’s brothers?

Polyamory or desperation? You decide.

My stomach turned at the imagined backlash, at the thought of my name trending for all the wrong reasons again.

But then, I looked around.

The quiet. The fire. The way Garrett leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed but gaze gentle.

The way Asher softly strummed his guitar, an easy and soothing song.

The way Beckett watched me, not with hunger or expectation, but with steady patience, like he could wait a lifetime if I needed him to.

And I realized none of that noise mattered here.

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