“Monroe,” Shiloh breathes. She pads to me and cups my face with one hand. “Say it again.”
No misunderstanding the command. I lick my lips. “I love you.”
“Do you mean it?”
“Of course I mean it. I’m a bitch, but I don’t throw around words like that without meaning them.”
Her smile is almost sad. “I love you, too.”
“Why are you saying it like you’re apologizing to me?”
She pulls me into a hug that steals my breath. Her next words finish the job. “Would you like to see the house where I grew up?”
Chapter 28
Shiloh
The past two weeks have been agony. The closer I get to Monroe—the more comfortable I get with this new relationship with Broderick—the worse I feel about keeping something so important from them. It’s not just that I’m an Amazon; or, rather, I was. It’s that the current queen has painted a target on my chest.
She hasn’t said a single word to me since the last time, but the threat is there every time she’s in the room. The only thing that’s stayed her hand is Monroe’s obvious affection for me and the fact I’ve kept the truth about my past to myself.
But it feels like lying.
More, I can barely contain my flinch every time Monroe talks about her mother or mentions something about children. It’s not that I want to be pregnant; I stand by the choice I made at nineteen and have no regrets about making it. It’s more that Monroe’s beliefs about the Amazons are just flat-out false.
Maybe they really do revere children. Maybe they really do protect them.
Or maybe it’s all bullshit, a lie fed to her by her mother. Of course she was protected as heir. Monroe has never been expendable a day in her life. She doesn’t know what it’s like to have the truth of her helplessness drilled into her going back as far as she can remember.
It’s not that I want her to feel that pain.
I just…
Maybe I really am selfish. As soon as I offer to show her my childhood home, I want to take it back. Why am I so willing to hurt her just to take this strange load of guilt off my shoulders?
She loves me.
I love her.
Gods, when did that happen?
Movement draws my gaze as Broderick leans against the doorframe. His blue eyes flick over us. “Everything okay?”
“Shiloh’s going to take us to her childhood home in the morning,” Monroe says, cutting off any chance I have of changing my mind. For better or worse, I’m committed now. The truth will come out tomorrow.
He doesn’t move, though he tenses the slightest bit. “I’ll clear my schedule.”
There’s no point in telling him he doesn’t have to come. Broderick has been very, very careful not to push me for more details about my past, has been so fucking respectful when it comes to how self-conscious I am about my scars. He takes every single opportunity he can to reassure me without words that he wants me, that he cares.
I love Broderick.
This realization has a softer touch than the one about Monroe. That felt like being hit with a tidal wave. This is freshly falling snow. I’ve been falling in love with Broderick from the moment I met him. Two weeks of sharing a bed, of having each other over and over again, has only solidified it into a truth. This man holds half my heart.
Monroe holds the other half.
I don’t know what to do with that knowledge, so I set it aside. Tomorrow, things will fall out where they may. I don’t know if the truth will change things between the three of us, but we don’t have a shot at a real future as long as I’m lying to them, even by omission.
Broderick crosses to us and wraps his arms around both of us. “Thank you for trusting us with this.”
Against all reason, tears prick my eyes. I close them, but it doesn’t help. A single tear slides free. “Things have been so damn good the past two weeks. I’m afraid of that ending.”
Monroe nuzzles my neck. “There isn’t a single thing you could do to ruin us, Shiloh. Trust that.”
If we’re going to have this conversation, we might as well have it. I take a deep breath and open my eyes. “What about you two?”
Monroe leans back, expression carefully blank. “What about us?”
“Don’t play coy. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You and Broderick have gotten along great the past two weeks.”
“So?” She doesn’t draw back, but she’s also not looking at him.
Broderick’s arms have gone tense around us, but he doesn’t pull away. “That’s complicated.”
“Now who’s lying?” I push slowly away from them. “You two like each other. More than like.”
Monroe shakes her head. “Let’s not get hasty. He doesn’t want me dead, but that’s hardly putting us in the realm of like or more.”