Page 48 of Bossing My Holiday
But now I feel like I could have this. Like maybe it’s my turn, and life is too fucking short not to go after what I truly want. I don’t even know what my breaking point was. I just know I hit it.
Tristan’s family is all around us, but they’re busy laying into him about Ouest Hotels, so I take the moment of their distractionand lean in a bit to Waverly so I can tell her what I’ve been thinking since I first laid eyes on her today.
“You look beautiful this morning.”
A small gust of air pushes from her lungs in the form of a laugh. It sounds a lot like relief, and some of the turmoil that had been perched on her brow eases. She glances around, making sure no one can hear us, and turns back to me. “You’re not mad?”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Sunshine? Tristan and I share pretty much everything. A company, his family… women.” I let that hang for a minute. “But our problem is, we’ve both been crazy about the same woman for a while now. We were just too afraid to act on it. Until now. We’re hoping maybe she’d want to share us too.”
Her eyes do a slow blink as she fully absorbs this. I think she knew it. This can’t be a shock to her. But it’s not exactly the most normal thing in the world for two men to share a woman, so I’m not surprised she needed it explicitly spelled out for her. Waverly holds my focus as she studies me.
“Hey,” Tristan says, interrupting our moment, his tone suggesting he was trying to get our attention for a bit. “You ready?”
The three of us stand and say our goodbyes to Tristan’s parents and grand-mère and head out the door. Waverly is quiet as we step into the elevator, and I take her hand. Tristan takes her other hand and yep, I’m smiling like a bastard.
Waverly glances down at both of her hands, her head on a swivel, going back and forth. “So… you want to share me?”
I chuckle at her bewildered tone. “I’d like to.”
“But he doesn’t like me.”
“Yes, he does.”
“Yes, I do,” Tristan confirms with a heavy sigh. He turns to face her when the elevator doors open. “Fuck,” he hisses, and I drop Waverly’s hand. We step off the elevator into the winterwonderland that is the lobby of the Ouest Hotel and out the front doors toward the waiting car. The three of us climb into the back with the aid of the driver, the door shutting out the chilly Parisian morning.
Waverly sits in the middle, her teeth working her lip. “I’m so confused.”
The driver gets in and starts us out into Paris traffic. The facility is just outside of Paris, toward the La Défense district. Tristan rolls up the partition to give us some privacy.
“About what I said or about Tristan liking you?” I ask.
“Yes.”
Tristan chuckles. “I take it you told her,” he says to me.
“I did.”
“And she didn’t run screaming from my parents’ flat.”
“No. She didn’t.”
Tristan turns her face toward his. “Do you really hate me? Because I don’t hate you. Not at all. In fact… I’m the opposite of hate with you.”
Her eyelashes flutter. “And you both… share? How does that… work?”
“Typically it’s just been about sex.”
“But I want more,” I state. “More than sex. More of you.”
“You’re not in love with each other though, right? I mean, I’m not against that, I’ve just never gotten that vibe despite how close you are.”
“No. Brax and I love each other, but we’re not in love. We’re partners in many ways, but we don’t have sex with each other, nor do we want to.”
“Doesn’t that get complicated? Isn’t there jealousy?”
Tristan shrugs. “A bit, but it’s the good kind of jealousy. The kind that brings us together with the same woman. The kind that lights a fire without burning us.”
“How would this work? Would it be as it’s been? I’m with one of you and then the next, or is it all of us together?”
