Tristan says, “Of course, we’ll go with you.”
Scrunching my nose, I cross my arms. Tristan flinches. “Sorry, it’s just that it really matters to him. Before,when I was an asshole, we fought a lot about it.”
I stare at him for a moment, realizing that he’s putting himself out there. I’m not thrilled that he answered for the two of us, but instead of giving him a hard time, I kiss him.
“This,” I say, pointing at the three of us, “we have yet to discuss. We haven’t said anything about it. Made sense of what’s next.”
They both look at each other and then back at me. Matt cocks an inquisitive eyebrow at Tristan, who nods.
Matt takes a step forward, then lifts my chin, connecting our gazes. “Next… we continue our relationship. We’ve been together without a title for quite some time. It’s been an unconventional relationship where the three of us have come together and molded into each other’s lives.”
Tristan takes my hand. “There’s a big love between the three of us that we’ll nourish while we grow this relationship and are able to take further steps. Like being intimate, living together… one day at a time, Butterfly.”
He trails kisses along my palm and arm. “You belong to us. We belong to you.”
The words squeeze my heart, filling it with happiness.
We belong.
“So, we work at this, and love, as we go?” I ask, snaking one arm around Tristan’s waist and another around Matt’s. Nestled between them, my heart settles inside the cocoon we’re creating, believing this is right. “My head has doubts, but my heart knows this is where I belong. Let’s go to dinner, Mattie, as a family. Your family.”
Thirty minutes later, I find myself at the Deckers’ home.
The first place we go to is the music studio. I’ve never been in one, and I’m amazed by the amount of instruments and speakers they have. Chris Decker’s office is decorated with most of his awards, and a few pictures of Dreadful Souls.
The guys back in their glory days. My father with long, curly blond hair, shirtless, and sticking his tongue out. His brown bloodshot eyes look lost. He’s high. I don’t look at all like him, but unfortunately, I got his addictive genes.
“That’s my old band,” Chris says, then points at himself with much longer hair than mine. “The thrill of being with ‘the band’ was the ultimate drug at the beginning. Then we discovered the real shit. Partied too much, fucked too many women, and at the end, we couldn’t stand each other. Have you heard the music?”
I scrunch my nose and work extra time to hold my tongue.
“Nose scrunch,” Matt points out. “That means no, or that she hates it.”
Tristan squeezes my hand and comes closer to me, while Matt tosses his hands up in the air.
“You’re too picky, woman.”
I roll my eyes and try to ignore him, while Chris gives me that lazy grin and says, “I take it you’re not a fan.”
“Afraid not. I only listen to new age or classical. Bach, Mozart, Verdi, Strauss, Tchaikovsky, among others.” Then I turn to Tristan. “Are you a fan?”
He shrugs, smiling at Chris. “You weren’t bad.”
“Jesus, I need to teach them about good music. Thea, really? Classical… and you’re dating a drummer?” Chris gives me that devilish smirk that looks so much like the one Matt has, and I can’t help but smile with him while bobbing my head. “That’s true love. My husband hates heavy metal and still fell in love with me, didn’t you, babe?”
“I still ask myself what possessed me, then I remember how amazing he is and forget his old hideous music.” Gabe winks at his husband and then kisses him. “He gave me three amazing children too. You can’t beat that, and whatever else he does disappears when I remember what we built.”
Watching them, the vibe of unconditional love—and the true love between them—fills my heart with joy.
It’s beautiful.
They have their own unicorn.
This is what I want.
Compassion, friendship, harmony, fidelity, strength, and of course, love.
One day I want this. Being old, sharing dinner with my men and our children. Their significant others.