Page 10 of Perfect Convergence

We’ll have to be careful.

Sometime in the late afternoon, there’s a knock on my door. Oliver slips inside, followed by Rhett. Both are giving me a look that says my time of moping alone is over.

I sit back in my chair, watching both of them in silence. Rhett leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, while Oliver walks right up to my desk.

“What do we do when we need to fix something, Elliot?”

I chew on my lip for a second. There’s no way I’m going to like where this conversation is going. “Ignore it?”

“Ell.”

It’s the wrong answer, and I know it. It’s also distinctly unlike me to avoid my problems. But I can’t get it out of my head that at any moment, Wren is going to text me and tell me that she has no desire to be with someone who was willing to toss her aside so easily.

Not that it was an easy decision. In fact, I’m ridiculously grateful Wren fought against it and changed my mind.

“What do we do, Ell?” Rhett says. His gaze is calm. Cool. Authoritative. This man isn’t in the mood to take anyone’s shit.

Who am I kidding? He never is.

“We fix the goddamned problem,” I grumble.

Oliver grins, and the sparkle in his eyes tells me he has something up his sleeve. “That’s right. Now get up. We’re going for a ride.”

“I DON’T LIKE THIS.”

I’m in Rhett’s truck, arms crossed, glaring at him and Oliver from the backseat. If I’d known go for a drive actually meant head to Wren’s place, I never would’ve agreed to this.

No idea what else they could’ve meant, though.

I eye Wren’s apartment building warily. “There’s no way I’m just going up there unannounced. What if she’s busy?”

Oliver chuckles. “Oh, she knows you’re coming.”

“What?” I snap. Then I narrow my eyes.

“No backing out now, Ell. Get your ass up there. Text us when you’re ready to come home.”

Rhett gives me a don’t you dare protest look in the rearview mirror.

I swallow. “She knows I’m coming?”

They both nod.

I’m so fucked.

I hop out of the truck, shoving my hands into my coat pockets. The whole way up to her floor, my mind is a whirlwind of anxiety.

Did Wren ask the guys to bring me here? Is she going to tell me she wants nothing to do with me?

You’d deserve it if she did.

The thought makes my heart ache. Minus the months of silently pining after her and doing my best to make meaningful conversation at the coffee shop, she’s only been in my life for three days. Yet it feels like it’s been so much longer.

There’s something about the way she fits with us that’s just... right. It’s the same way I’ve always felt about Oliver and Rhett.

I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans before knocking on Wren’s door. Within seconds, it’s swinging open, and I’m looking down at the woman who none of us can seem to get enough of.

. . . Except the energy and sass that sparked in her eyes all weekend is gone, replaced by exhaustion.

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