Page 63 of Push My Buttons
"Even therapy," I add. "One of us takes her, waits outside."
Jace nods, then moves to the coffee maker, his movements precise despite his obvious tension. "She'll argue," he says as he measures out grounds. "She'll say she doesn't want to put us at risk."
"Too bad," I reply with a shrug. "She's stuck with us now."
Jace glances at me, a hint of challenge in his eyes. "Both of us?"
And there it is—the question that's been hovering between us since the studio. Are we really doing this? Sharing a woman? Building some kind of... what? Threesome? Triad? Whatever the hell this arrangement is called?
"Both of us," I confirm, meeting his gaze steadily. "I'm not walking away from her. And I'm guessing you aren't either."
"No," he says simply. "I'm not."
"So we figure it out," I say with a confidence I mostly feel. "For her. We make it work."
A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "You're not exactly who I imagined co-parenting with."
I snort, appreciating his attempt at humor. "First, gross. We're not her parents. Second, you're not exactly my dream roommate either, Boy Scout."
"Stop calling me that," he says, but there's no heat in it.
"Make me," I challenge, falling into our familiar pattern of banter.
His eyes narrow slightly, but I catch the hint of amusement there. "I could, you know. I've taken you down in Wasteland Chronicles enough times."
"In your dreams, Wolf," I retort. "Besides, we have more important things to focus on now."
His expression sobers. "She's ours to protect," he says quietly. "Both of ours."
The possessiveness in his voice matches what I'm feeling. "Yes," I agree. "Ours."
It should be weird, this moment of agreement over sharing her. But it's not about possession—it's about commitment. About acknowledging that we're both all in, whatever that means, whatever it takes.
Jace turns back to the coffee maker, frowning at it as if it's personally offended him. "This is going to taste like shit," he mutters. "I've never been able to get these machines to work right."
"She'll appreciate the effort," I say, glancing toward the bedroom.
"I hope so," Jace says, his voice softer now. "I'm going to wake her. Take her to that first therapy session." He glances at me. "You okay holding down the fort? Dealing with... that?" He nods toward the note.
"Yeah," I say, picking it up gingerly. "I'll hide it somewhere safe. I think maybe that therapist needs to help her remember what she is forgetting, something about this isn’t adding up and it’s biting us in the ass."
Jace nods, his expression turning thoughtful. "You might be onto something there. Dr. Levine could help her recover those lost memories. The key to figuring out who's stalking her might be locked somewhere in her mind."
"Exactly," I say, relieved he understands. "Someone clearly knows her from before. And they know things about her that even she doesn't remember."
"I agree," Jace says, running a hand through his already messy hair. "We need to create a safer environment here too. If she wants to stay here in her own space then I'm thinking we should install some cameras—not in the bedroom or bathroom obviously, but the main living areas, entry points."
"Security cameras?" I ask, considering the idea. "That's not bad. Could catch this creep in the act next time."
"Yeah," he says, but his attention seems to drift as he stares at the front door. "Those locks were meant to be good, but obviously not good enough. We need better ones. For the windows too." He taps his fingers against his thigh in that rhythmic pattern again. "I'll have to pick them up after I drop her back home from therapy."
I sigh, pulling out my wallet. "Let me pay for it. Whatever it costs, just get the best."
Jace scoffs, giving me a look that's somewhere between amusement and annoyance. "Just because I don't live in some lavish tower with a doorman doesn't mean I'm not loaded. I developed one of the most popular games in years, remember? The company pays me enough that I can afford a few locks."
I hold up my hands in surrender. "Fair enough, Mr. Wasteland Chronicles. Just trying to contribute to the cause."
"You can contribute by keeping her safe while I'm gone," he says, his expression softening slightly. "And maybe making some coffee that doesn't taste like battery acid."
