Page 1 of Secret Triplets for Christmas

PROLOGUE

Lindsay

The house was quiet, which shouldn't have felt unusual since for the moment, I was living alone. My roommate, Miranda, had moved out in February and in a strange twist was now married to my father and had a baby two months ago, in September.

After Mira moved out, I invited my boyfriend, Liam, to live with me. At the time, I was sure he and I were made for each other. Since I had an extra room and he’d been living with his brother, Oliver, I invited him to move in too.

But it wasn't long after that Liam began to change. In his quest for money and power, he got involved with the wrong people, and it started months of my kicking him out and then taking him back in a belief that he had changed.

The last time I kicked him out was nearly a month ago, mid-October, and to help make sure he stayed gone this time, Oliver volunteered to move out too, giving Liam no reason to come by anymore.

I felt bad about it. For months, Oliver and I did our best to get Liam on the right track, and in those months, my feelings for Liam shifted from love to pity. But I had plans that didn’t involve trying to keep Liam from ruining his life, or worse, getting killed. I’d done my best to completely cut him out, and I had, except for a brief encounter at a Halloween party two weeks ago.

All that to say that my home should have felt empty, and yet for some reason, a crackle of fear rose up my spine as I entered after my work day as a collections assistant at the Gardner Museum. I walked through my condo, turning on all the lights as if it would scare the Boogie Man away. I finally made it to my bedroom, flipping on the final light and scanning the room before I saw Liam on the floor in a pool of blood.

I let out a scream, knowing I should go to him. Or maybe I should run away in case an intruder was in the house. But I was unable to do either.

A hand came around, covering my mouth as another arm banded around my body, tugging me roughly. "You're going to be next, sweetheart.”

Panic swept through me, and I did my best to scream again as I thrashed and tried to free myself.

"Lindsay. Lindsay, wake up."

I startled awake, bolting up. Sitting next to me on the bed was Oliver. His hand brushed my wild hair out of my face. "You had another nightmare. But you're safe."

It was just a dream. A nightmare.

Except part of that nightmare had been real. I had come home two weeks ago to find Liam dead in my bedroom. I couldn't figure out why he was there. He’d been out of my life for over a month, minus the passing encounter at Halloween. So, why was he here?

But unlike in my nightmare, nobody else had been in the apartment after I found him. I had called the police and then Oliver.

For several days after the incident, I stayed with my father and Mira, but I couldn't let Liam's murder stall my life. So, after hiring a cleaning crew, I returned home.

I was fine until the sun set and the darkness creeped all around me.

One night a few days ago, Oliver showed up wanting to check in with me, and I asked him to move back in, at least for a little while. The poor guy had to endure my nightmares, but he never complained. I liked to think that by helping me, it was helping him as well, but that was probably just a selfish justification to lean on him.

As my nightmare subsided and it settled in my mind that I was safe, the endorphins tanked, and with it came the shakes and the crying. Oliver wrapped his arms around me, and I gave myself to his strength.

Once that was done and my tears subsided, I lay back, rubbing my eyes, feeling foolish for not being stronger.

"Are you all right now? Do you want me to get you some water?" He started to stand, and I couldn’t tolerate the idea of his leaving me right now.

My hand shot out, gripping his wrist. "Don't leave."

He laced his fingers with mine. "I'm not going anywhere."

That wasn't completely true. Oliver had just been offered his dream job at a Silicon Valley tech firm. Within the week, he would move west, and I felt a profound sadness about that. In fact, I felt it even more deeply than I felt the loss of Liam, which made me feel guilty.

I was sad about Liam's loss for sure, but by the time it happened, I didn't love him anymore. Oliver’s leaving felt like I was losing my best friend. A part of me.

I held his hand, looking up at the man who’d come to mean so much to me since meeting him through Liam and especially as Liam changed. Where Liam had the body and the looks that would make him a successful underwear model, Oliver’s good looks were more subtle.

He was the quintessential tech nerd, which wasn't to say he wasn't handsome, because he was. But one had to look for his attractiveness because he wore his hair, and often his beard, shaggy. He had Liam's height, nearly six foot three, but his build was leaner, lankier, and usually hidden in a faded superhero T-shirt and jeans.

What really made Oliver stand out was his goodness, his genuine caring. Liam never appreciated that about him, and although I hated to admit it, I hadn't either until Liam started having his troubles and Oliver and I worked together to help him.

"Can you stay here with me?" I asked.

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