Page 129 of Three Bossy Boyfriends
“What’s wrong?” I ask her. “Come here, sit down, and let’s talk.”
I try to reach for her hand, but she pulls away.
Evan and Tucker have both leaped to their feet, but she puts her hand out to stop them from approaching her. She looks from Tucker to Evan to me. “Whose idea was this?”
“Uh…” Tucker looks like he has no idea what the right answer is to that.
“I think Tucker and I came to this conclusion together,” Evan says. “Then we looped in Christopher, who thought it might be a good idea to put it all out on paper for us.”
Finley shakes her head slowly, pursing her lips together.
She stays silent, which, from Finley, is more concerning than a tirade of angry words. That either means she’s thinking very hard or she’s afraid if she opens her mouth things will come out that she doesn’t want to say.
“Come sit down,” Tucker says. “Let’s talk.”
“I thought we were having a date night,” she says, and it’s definitely accusatory. “You know, food and fucking.”
“It is a date night,” Evan reassures her. “We just felt like we needed to iron out how we all date before we go any further.”
“Go any further? I feel like we’ve already gone there.” Finley brushes past me and flops onto the sofa. She yanks the contract off of the coffee table.
As she scans it, Evan and I exchange concerned looks.
“Finley. Talk to me,” Tucker says. “What are you thinking?”
“What I’m thinking, Tucker Hastings, is that you and Evan went and had a full-blown discussion about me and my future—our future—without including me. Then you “looped in” Christopher to put a lawyer polish on it like this is some kind of impersonal transaction.”
That has alarm bells ringing immediately. “Let’s just take a beat here.”
“Whoa, whoa,” Tucker says. “There is nothing impersonal or transactional about this, Finley. For fuck’s sake, just hear us out.”
Instead, Finley lifts the contract and jabs her finger onto the paper. “There will be no quad cohabitation. That doesn’t sound fucking impersonal to you?”
This might be my fault. “I’m sorry if it sounds impersonal. I didn’t mean it that way. I was striving for clarity.” I smile at her. “I am a lawyer after all.”
“So am I. Almost. And I would never insult you with a piece of paper that diminishes our relationship to a phrase like ‘quad cohabitation.’”
That makes me wince. “I’m really sorry, Finley. That wasn’t my intention. That wasn’t any of our intentions. Let’s start over. None of us have done this before.”
“Yes, let’s start over because this feels like an ambush.”
I consider myself a great negotiator, but truth be told, Evan is better at relating to clients. While being treated like a client is the exact opposite of what Finley wants—and she’s right, I shouldn’t treat her that way—I figure Evan is a good bet to take over from here.
Fortunately, he doesn’t need me to even cue him in. He’s already reaching across the coffee table and picking up the contract. He tears it in half very calmly. “There. Gone. Let’s start from the beginning.”
“Let’s start from when you all decided to meet behind my back and outline my future with bullet points.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Fucking bullet points.”
This is Finley in full brat mode. She has every right to be upset. Which would have been helpful to realize an hour ago. But at the same time, now that I realize she’s willing to hear us out, I’m half fighting a grin.
God, this woman is sexy when she’s being a brat.
Tucker must agree because he sits down beside her, puts his arm around her neck, and kisses the side of her head. “Good girl,” he tells her.
I expect her to instantly get pissy, but she doesn’t. She does wrinkle her nose, but she says, “You can talk first, Tucker.”
“I reached out to Evan because the other night there was talk about rules and how this has to work, and I had…questions. Maybe even some concerns.”
“Go on.”
