Megan
Standing in the kitchen with Tristan and Madden, I try to balance my conflicting feelings. I need to make it clear how I feel about this ridiculous fighting. But I also can’t help feeling all kinds of turned on by the hungry way they’re both looking at me.
Okay, so maybe I should have put on something that wasn’t quite as revealing as my tiny tight lil dress, but so what?
Tristan sits at the island, watching me silently as he alternates icing his knuckles. Madden leans up against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest, also watching me as I walk around the kitchen, trying to make it clear how upsetting their fight was.
But they’re really fucking distracting, both of them still without their shirts. How’s a girl supposed to think straight when two insanely sexy men are half naked in front of her? And both of them clearly want me as much as I want them. The tension in this room is out of control.
Some of it from the obvious irritation I’m feeling. But the sexual energy is just as evident. I’m sure they feel it as much as I do.
Madden breaks the silence first. “Megan, don’t be mad, baby.” He gives me one of his trademark charming grins, the one with the dimples that always gets me. It’s hard to stay mad at him when he does that, but I put forth the effort. It’s important that they know I won’t stand for their shit.
I shake my head and hold up my hand. “Don’t, Madden. Don’t even try.”
“Hey,” he says, “I’m sorry. But I can’t help it. What do you want me to say? That I don’t care that Tristan had his hands all over you? That I’m cool with it? Because if you want me to be honest, I don’t know if I can say that.”
I just stare at him for a minute. Normally he’s all laughs and jokes, all tease and flirtation. But he seems to mean what he’s saying right now. Could Maya be right? Does he actually care? Like, for real?
“And you think I am?” Tristan says, his voice low and controlled, but his anger just below the surface.
I look at him, and I see the jealousy written all over his face. Maya said she knew he cared about me. And I’m pretty sure she’s right. But what’s real and what’s not? How much of this is because they just want to win the game?
“I don’t know what to tell you guys,” I say, frustration rising up again, and I begin to pace.
“How about you tell us which one of us you want?” Madden suggests.
Tristan scoffs. “Seriously, dude? You think you can just put her on the spot like that?”
Madden’s jaw clenches. “You think you know her so well, don’t you? Just because you had your—”
“Stop!” I cut him off before we can go down this road again. “Just don’t. Either of you.” I look back and forth between them.
Tristan looks angry, but he makes an effort to tear his gaze away from Madden. To his credit, Madden also settles back against the counter. But now my anger has won out.
“You two are going to make it really easy for me to win this apartment if you spend all your time fighting. You think I can’t resist? I’ve been doing a damn good job up until now.”
I bite my lip because that’s obviously not true. I wanted to have sex w
ith both of them. And it was a really close call both times, the only thing keeping me from it being my determination to win.
“Okay, well I was, up until those dates,” I amend.
Both of their faces tense up again, and I’m sure they’re about to start spewing more caveman jealous shit, so I keep right on going. “You two are ridiculous. You don’t own me. You know that, right? And yeah, maybe I did have sex with both of you—or close enough—but so what? Maybe I’m attracted to both of you. Did you ever think of that? Maybe this is hard on me too. Did you stop to think that maybe I’m really fucking frustrated as well that I want you both, but can’t have either of you?”
They both watch me, surprised by what I’m saying. I see them glance at each other, jealousy and anger and frustration all over both their faces. “Maybe you’d both be a lot less frustrated and stop all this stupid fighting if you could both just learn to share.”
I stop in between them, crossing my arms over my chest. It pushes my tits up, and I notice that’s where both of their attention goes.
Then something shifts. The energy in the room goes from leaning more toward angry tension and teeters on an edge for a moment before shifting firmly into sexual territory. I see it in their eyes, the way they both watch me with obvious lust.
Then their eyes aren’t on me anymore. They’re watching each other. Evaluating, assessing, questioning.
I have no idea what they’re thinking.
Until Tristan speaks up.
“What if we can, Megan?” He stands up and takes a step toward me, his eyes dark with desire.