I clenched the table so hard my knuckles went white. “Sit your ass in this fucking seat, Levi. Do not fucking move,” I reminded myself through gritted teeth, knowing well thatnobody would hear me because I could barely hear myself. I repeated it over and over, reminding myself I could not leave this seat. I could not storm down there and kick down that fucking door and beat the shit out of that bartender for touching him.
But the minute the door opened, I was on my feet. Storming through the club. Pushing past the bouncer who glanced at me but made no attempts to stop me.
The bartender blinked at me in surprise and held his hands up. “Nothing—”
I didn’t give a shit what he had to say. I barreled past him and straight into Whip, pushing him farther down the hallway.
The bouncer said something to the bartender, but I didn’t hear it. My attention was too taken up with Whip. I slammed him up against the wall, not even giving a fuck when his head hit the drywall too hard.
His eyes turned from wide with surprise to narrowed with anger. He shoved me off him. “What the fuck, Levi? That hurt.” He rubbed the back of his head.
I didn’t give a shit. I moved right back in, crowding him against the wall, taking up space so he couldn’t get away from me again, not that he was trying to. “Did you fuck him?”
Whip rolled his eyes. “So what if I did? We aren’t together, are we? You made that pretty clear.”
I pushed him against the wall again. “Did. You. Fuck. Him?”
“No, asshole. I didn’t fuck him. He introduced me to Nyah’s—”
I didn’t care. I slammed my mouth onto his, kissing him hard and fast and with anger that was fueled by jealousy and confusion but also by something so much more.
“I fucking love you.” I breathed across his lips.
The words shocked me just as much as they shocked him.
“What?” he asked.
“Don’t make me repeat it.” Heat bloomed across the back of my neck, but I ignored it. I knew that embarrassment was made up of a lifetime of homophobic remarks from men in my life who I’d loved and respected. But they had been so fucking wrong about this and what it felt like.
The way I felt about him was all-consuming. It chewed up every part of me and then spat me back out then asked for more.
A tiny smile flickered at Whip’s lips. “Nah, I want to hear you say it again.”
I rolled my eyes. “I fucking love you, okay? I don’t want you chatting up random strangers in clubs. I don’t want you holding their hands. I don’t want you sneaking off to back rooms to fuck them.”
“I don’t want that either. But I’m not going to be some secret that you’re ashamed of either. I’ve spent years hiding who I am. I bury every urge. I work after dark. I’ve never been anyone’s first choice.”
I mumbled over his lips. “I won’t give up Violet—”
“I won’t either.”
I sucked in a breath and knew it had to be me who made this right. I had been the hold-out in this relationship the entire time. But I never wanted to feel the way I’d just felt watching him walk away with another man. It made me sick to my stomach. “It’s you and me and her.”
Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of X, his arms in the air doing the YMCA.
He was slightly out of time, his hair mussed up with sweat, a grin almost too wide for his face plastered all over it.
But Violet laughed up at him like he’d hung the fucking moon.
“You, me, her, and X,” I conceded, realizing she loved him. I was never going to take anything away from a woman who had already lost so much.
Whip fit his fingers to the back of my neck and dragged my head down the inch or two to meet his lips. With his forehead against mine, he mumbled, “You, me, her, and X. No one else.”
I nodded. “Family.”
Something flickered in his eyes, and I knew he was thinking about the one he’d lost. About the years of being alone. My fingers found the back of his neck too, pressing him close.
“No more running. No more hiding.” I wanted to kiss him so fucking bad it was like a tidal wave inside me, drawing him in. But I fought it, grabbing his hand and pulling him out into the middle of the club. Onto the dance floor.