And then we stopped. I expected Brock to set me down, but instead, he lifted me up, and another set of arms took him from me. I recognized the feel of Kincade’s body even before I pulled off Jessie’s jacket. Then Kincade engulfed me in a firm hug while Brock hopped up on the deck next to us.
“I’m so sorry, Maddie,” Kincade said while he held me tight. When he let go, he led me over to some chairs around the firepit we’d never used. Brock sat down, too, and a minute later, Jessie appeared with wine. He, too, said how sorry he was that this had happened.
I sighed, hoping I wouldn’t start crying again. “It’s not your fault. I’m guilty of what I was accused of. Sure, I started sleeping here because I didn’t have anywhere else to go, but that’s not why I stayed. I stayed because I wanted to.”
Brock scoffed. “We know that, but what I fail to see is how that supposedly ruined your sister’s wedding.”
“It’s because my stepsisters made it sound like Maddie’s an attention whore,” Kincade said, and then he winced. “Sorry, I should have phrased that better.”
“I don’t get it,” Jessie said. “You’ve done everything you could to make your sister’s wedding incredible.”
Even after everything she said, I still didn’t like the idea of them blaming Gina. “Sometimes, when you form an opinion of someone, you have a really hard time changing it.”
“I’d say several people formed the wrong impression of you,” Kincade said.
“Of us,” Jessie added.
“No, not us,” Brock snapped. “The Annas didn’t even hint that we might have behaved improperly. They put it all on Maddie.”
“Which is all kinds of wrong,” Kincade said.
Jessie started to pour me wine, but I shook my head. “I don’t want to drink tonight.”
“What do you want?” Jessie asked.
For a do-over, but that wasn’t possible. So I gave the second-best answer. “Could I have a little time alone?” I knew I was going to cry again, and I didn’t want to do it in front of them.
Jessie immediately stood up, ready to head into the cabin. “Sure. Take as much time as you need.”
Brock shook his head. “Not here. She needs to be inside. You guys stay here.”
Before I knew it, he’d scooped me up and was carrying me through his bedroom. We crossed the hall and then he entered Jessie and Kincade’s bedroom, kicking the door closed with his heel.
That reminded me of all the times that door had been shut with Brock on the wrong side of it. Now, he was in here with me, at least temporarily.
He settled me on the mattress, and then sat down on the edge to unbuckle my shoes. “What do you need, Maddie?”
“You,” I said, reaching for him.
“I can stay for a little while.” He sat on the edge of the bed and patted my arm.
“Not over there. Please, can you hold me? Please?”
Brock was hesitant, but I didn’t take offense because I knew it had to do with his issues with sleeping with someone. Still, he crawled into the bed behind me and put his arms around me. Jessie and Kincade had held me like this, and it had felt wonderful, but it hadn’t felt like enough because I’d only experienced it with two out of three with them.
But now, Brock had me in his arms, and somehow, it completed the circle. It made me feel cherished by all three of them, even though only Brock was in the room.
Tears ran down my cheeks onto the pillow. Brock held me closer, his warm body heating me from behind, but in a comforting way, not a sexual way.
“Do you want to talk?” he whispered, nuzzling my ear.
“Yes. But not about the rehearsal dinner.”
“Then about what?”
“About you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. And why you can’t sleep next to me—or anyone. It’s not my business, but… I care about you. So that means I worry about you the same way you worried about me when I ran off tonight. Does that make any sense?”
He was silent for a long time, his arm wrapped around my waist. “I understand wanting to help the people you care for. But for me—there’s no helping it. IT’s just the way it is.”
“Can you tell me what happened, though?”
“It was a long time ago, Maddie.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t sure if the length of time mattered all that much. What had happened to me my freshman year of high school had been a long time ago, and that wound was reopened by my sister an hour ago. But I didn’t push him. That was also part of caring for someone. Sometimes you pushed, sometimes you backed off.
He held me tight, and I was glad when he didn’t try to leave. I hoped he’d stay until I fell asleep. Then, just when I felt myself starting to drift off, he started talking.