Page 91 of Bossy Mountain Daddies
Chapter 27
Skye
Isit on Charlotte’s couch staring blankly out the window at the beautiful aspen trees. I’ve been in Wyoming for a week now and I still can’t stop thinking about the guys. It feels like it’s only getting worse…
Charlotte appears from the kitchen with two steaming mugs of coffee. Her curls are piled messily on top of her head, and she's still in her pajamas even though it's nearly noon.
"You look like someone killed your dog," she says, handing me a mug.
"Thanks. I feel worse," I mumble, pushing myself up to drink the coffee.
She settles cross-legged on the other end of the couch, watching me over the rim of her mug. "I’m worried about you.” She gestures at me with her free hand. "You've been here for a week, and you've barely left the house. You're not eating. You're not sleeping. You're just... existing, babe."
I wrap my hands around the warm mug, letting the heat seep into my cold fingers. "I know."
"Talk to me."
A lump forms in my throat. "I can't stop thinking about them."
Charlotte's eyes soften. "You're in love with them."
"Is that even possible? To be in love with three different men at once?"
"Why not?" She shrugs. "Love isn't a finite resource."
I take a sip of coffee, the bitter liquid matching the taste in my mouth when I think about how I left. "I just can’t get it out of my head. I ran, Char. I just left them a note like some coward. After everything they shared with me..."
"So you made a mistake." Her voice is gentle but firm. "The question is, what are you going to do about it?"
The answer burns in my chest, so obvious it hurts. "I want to go back."
"Then go."
"But what if they hate me now? What if they won't even talk to me?" The fear that's been gnawing at me surfaces. "What if I drive all the way back there just to find out I've ruined everything?"
Charlotte sets her mug on the coffee table and takes my hands in hers. "That's a risk you'll have to take if you want a chance at fixing things."
"And then there's Daniel," I say. "If I go back, if I choose to be with them, he'll tell everyone. He'll post more shit online and make me sound like some desperate slut."
"Maybe," Charlotte concedes. "But here's what I want to know—whose life are you living? Yours or the imaginary audience in your head?"
The question hits me harder than I expected. "I just... I don't want to be judged."
"Everyone gets judged, Skye. For their careers, their clothes, who they love, who they don't love. You can't control that." She squeezes my hands. "But youcancontrol whether you let the fear of judgment stop you from being happy."
I think about Buck's tattooed arms around me, Ford's deep understanding of all my wants and needs, Griff's dirty whispers in my ear. The way I felt like I could be myself with them. "I've been so afraid of what people might think that I walked away from something real. Something that made me happy."
"Exactly." Charlotte nods. "Look, I won't pretend to understand exactly what you have with these three guys. It's not conventional, and yeah, some people will side-eye it. But from everything you've told me, these guys respect you. They care about you. They give you space to be yourself." She raises an eyebrow. "Do you know how rare that is?"
"I do." My voice cracks. "That's why it's so terrifying."
"Of course it's terrifying. Real connections always are." She gives me a small smile. "But here's what I think: You're more afraid of happiness than you are of judgment. Because happiness means vulnerability, and vulnerability means you might get hurt again."
"Since when did you get so wise?"
"I've always been wise. You just haven't been listening." She grins and takes another sip of coffee.
I laugh but then my smile fades as I consider the enormity of what I'm contemplating. "What if I go back and they're furious? What if they tell me to fuck off?"
