Page 120 of Entangled

“There have been some messages. Nothing that made a lick of sense.” Beau crosses his arms over his chest. “Do you still love her?”

Eden pops into my mind, biting back a smile as she pushes up her glasses.

For some reason, panic licks through my chest.

“Why is it always zero to one hundred with you? No, I don’t love her. I didn’t love her before she was taken either. I’ve had less than a dozen conversations with her.” Jesus fucking Christ. Love? “Why would you even ask that, Beau? I told you I wasn’t ready, and you just keep pushing. If she had any expectations for us that I let down, it’s because you set her up to fail.”

Beau tilts his head, his brows dropping.

I scowl. “No, you don’t get to be mad. She’s brave, I’ll give you that. Clever as hell, and she’s got a ruthless streak too. You wait till you hear how she got out from under them, Beau—because we did jack shit. It was all her.”

What was I saying?

Right. I’m not in love with Eden.

“I was asking about Heather,” Beau says, letting out a disbelieving huff likeI’mtoo much for him. “Are you still in love withHeather?”

“Heather?” I repeat, confused.

“Yes, Dom,Heather. You know, the woman you ditched me for because you were so head-over-heels. The one whose name you couldn’t bear to hear. You show up with her out of nowhere, and whether you’re fucking her or not, the question stands—do you love her?” Beau asks, and he might be breathing steadily through his nose, but it might as well be steam.

Why would I love Heather? Respect her, fine, but my memories are fresh. I remember every bit of the chest-shredding pain, the shame of her walking out with my civilians, the shock of losing her to Thomas... and realizing that I’d just shot my closest friendship to hell for someone who never really cared. Point blank, execution-style.

Back then, I was so sure that the only way any of our relationships would survive was if they were separate. Because me, Heather, and Beau all together? It wasn’t working.

Turns out, we didn’t work without him anyway.

“I’m not in love with Heather,” I say, meeting his eyes. “She made sense to me back then—she still does. She’s honest. She’s up front with her shit, good or bad. She’s smart, good in a fight?—”

“Do you want a partner or a soldier?” Beau scoffs.

The derisive sound feels like shit when I’m trying to explain.

“Fuck off, Beau. I don’t know anythingbutsoldiers.” He should know this. He does know this. He just never understood it, not really. “Bristlebrook is the first time I’ve lived off a military base in my entire life. I went to military schools. My mother was military. My father was military. The only women I’ve ever even spoken to who weren’t military were submissives thatyouhooked us up with—and you and I both know how that worked out.”

Beau’s lips twist at that. Like I need the reminder that I messed things up for both of us, over and over.

But it’s not like he helped. He was always so quick to dive in and kiss every bruise better. Wipe every tear. If I stuck my foot in it, he apologized for me. The only time he ever let me do anything myself was whenhewas mad or if they pissedhimoff. Then I was flown in to be the big bad wolf again.

It’s no fucking wonder they never trusted me.

“Heather was different. She wasn’t there for you, for once. It was easier for me. She is a damn soldier—we didn’t do all that messy emotional stuff.”

I’ve always had Beau for that. He’s the only one I know how to talk to like this.

Beau uncrosses his arms, shaking his head. He looks like he’s thinking. “Eden deserves the messy emotional stuff. She needs it.”

“Yeah, no shit, Beau. This is my problem. I’m learning a foreign fucking language here,” I snap, getting frustrated.

Eden needs it. The civilians need it. Everyone needs me to be better. Softer. Or I’m going to lose all of them, all over again.

The panic isn’t an ember anymore. It’s a full, fiery blaze.

I want to be better. I still remember her reaching out her hand to me after I spanked her by the river. She was already cuddling with Beau. He was handling the aftercare, as usual, so she shouldn’t have needed me too.

But she still invited me in.

Every time she looks at me, she keeps inviting me in.

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