“I knew,” she says, and my eyes snap up to hers. “At least, I had a feeling. I saw how you two were together before I left. Neither of you wanted to admit it to yourselves, but I saw the bond growing.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I ask.
“Because.” She laughs. “How can I be mad when someone who means so much to me feels safe and wanted with you. And even though, at the time, I really wanted to kick your ass every time you opened your mouth, I still loved you. He made you smile, and you never smiled before he came along. Queenie and I didn’t have it in us to mess with that.”
“So what does this mean now?” I ask, afraid to know the answer.
“Have you talked to him about this?” she questions. “He’s been avoiding you since I’ve been back.”
“Yeah.” I sigh, my shoulders slumping. “He kind of freaked out after. Said you were gonna hate him, and that he was gonna lose you. I tried to tell him that wasn’t gonna happen.”
“Of course, I don’t hate him. I could never hate him.”
She hasn’t killed me yet, so I’m taking this as a good sign.
“And do you hate me?” I ask cautiously.
She looks at me a moment before answering. “I don't like that you lied to me. I hate liars.”
“I’m so fucking sorry. I just didn’t know how to tell you. And with everything that happened...” I say, grabbing handfuls of my hair in frustration.
“I’m not fucking glass, Axel, don’t handle me with kid gloves. Be a fucking man and own your shit.”
“No, but youarekind of crazy,” I deadpan. “You shot Dean for what he did before you guys were together. I didn’t want to know what you’d do to me knowing I cheated on you.”
“You didn’t cheat on me,” she tells me, and I look at her dumbfounded. “I knew of your feelings, and I was okay with it before you knew you had them. I knew it would happen at some point.”
“It’s still cheating,” I tell her, not sure why I'm fighting with her on that one.
“I call it a special case because you wanna know something? Something I haven’t admitted to anyone else also?”
“What?”
“I’m in love with Sam too,” she says, giving me a small smile like she has no shame in that. “How can I not be? Queenie sees him as someone to keep safe, care for, and kill for. But me? He’s become one of my best friends, someone who makes me laugh. He’s like Evie when it comes to our trauma and understands me in ways you and the guys never will. I bonded with him too. But I’ve been really fucked up when it comes to admitting and accepting feelings, so I’ve said nothing. Also, seeing how he’s pretty fucked up with what has happened to him, and rightfully so, I wanted to be his safe place. I couldn’t ruin that by saying something to him.”
“He loves you too, you know?” I tell her, a feeling of relief taking over the longer we talk and the feeling like I might die tonight slowly ebbing away, but Queenie is in there so the possibility is never completely gone.
“You sure? Seems like he sees me more as his savior than anything,” she says, looking away, and I can see the vulnerability in her. Something very rare.
“He told me enough to know,” I tell her, stepping closer, ignoring the fact we're having this life changing conversation naked.
“I’m okay with it,” she tells me. “Being with Sam, I mean.”
“You are?” I ask. “Because, Harlow... just because I love him, doesn't mean I love you any less.”
“I know.” She laughs. “Girl who's madly in love with five guys and a girl here.”
I grin at her, daring to step into her personal space, relief and happiness flooding my senses. “So you're really okay with me having something with Sam? I’m not sure what it will be. I know he’s sensitive to intimate touching, and I would never push him to do anything he didn’t feel comfortable with. It would be enough just to know he loves me and to have him in my life.”
“I say we go home and talk to him,” she tells me, heading into the bathroom.
“Right now?” I ask her, bending over to grab my pants and shirt, getting dressed.
She comes out a few minutes later.
“Why not? I know it must be eating away at him even more than it has with you. I don’t like knowing he's in pain.”
“I fucking love you,” I tell her, grasping her face in my hands and kissing her hard.
“I fucking love you too. And Axel?” she asks.
“What?”
“If you ever touch another person in a sexual way who isn’t me or Sam, see those?” she asks, looking towards the nasty dick-in-a-jar collection. “I’ll be adding a new one to my shelf. You're lucky that Queenie has stepped back and let me take the reins because I have a feeling you would’ve had a matching scar with Daddy Dean,” she smirks.