But OMG…just Greg on his own almost put me in a coma today. And Tyler didn't even have to try yesterday, and I was exploding like Fourth of July fireworks.
What would it be like to be with six?
Crazy. Stupid. Dangerous.
My mind hasn't stopped racing since I woke up naked in Greg's bed and realized that I was alone.
It's why I made dinner and dessert. I had to do something to keep my mind off what's going on here because although I know it's the most ridiculous idea that Tyler ever had, I haven't felt as safe as I did in Greg's arms for a very long time.
His words and his touch wrapped around me like a bulletproof blanket. Next to him, all the shitty things that have happened in my life just melted away.
It was only temporary, but feelings like that can be addictive.
I catch Damien looking at me, but when I smile back, he blushes and turns away quickly. He's such a big guy. That body is broad as a tree trunk, and his hands are like snow shovels. How can a man so tough on the outside seem so sensitive on the inside?
Tyler is done with his car first, closely followed by Greg. They have a conversation, their heads drawing close together and voices too low for me to hear. There's lots of nodding, then Greg slaps Tyler on the shoulder.
"We're good to go," Andrew says.
"I need a jacket," I tell him. "It's a little cold already, and it'll only get worse later."
"Sure. Go get it. We'll wait."
I dash into the house and up the stairs, finding Tyler's room. My suitcase is unzipped and open on his bed, and on top, my denim jacket is draped. Taking a quick look in the mirror, I find my cheeks flushed and my eyes sparkling. I look different than I did yesterday morning. The last couple of months have been particularly hard on me. Deciding not to go ahead with the tribunal was a relief but also a big disappointment. I'm a fighter; at least, I thought I was. Turns out, what I actually am is a quitter who's scared of starting something I can't finish.
Deep inside, I knew that the stress would push me back into the dark place that I've worked hard to claw my way out of.
For the first time since that asshole touched me without permission in the teacher’s lounge, I feel uninhibited. With these men, I feel protected. No one would dare come near me with six men surrounding me, let alone these six men.
And I love it.
After feeling exposed and alone for so long, it's a welcome change, but I don't want to start making it into more than it is. Me and Tyler proved that one amazing relationship could go to shit. Forget trying to keep six relationships healthy and happy.
Connie and Natalie are managing, but their men are brothers. All they've done is find working family units and become absorbed into them. These men are all so different. Yes, they're friends, but it's not the same as being real blood brothers. I always say that Carmella is like a sister to me, but Suzanne would always come first in a life-or-death situation. That's just how it is.
"You ready, Sandy?" someone shouts from downstairs. I dash out of Tyler's room, making sure to grab the handrail, so I don't fall down the unfamiliar staircase. Outside, Tyler is in the driving seat of the red car, and Greg is in the driving seat of the green. Arden is a passenger for Tyler and Able for Greg. That just leaves me, Andrew, and Damien to ride separately.
As I slide into the back seat of the truck in which Tyler drove us to the wedding, I'm hit with a wave of nerves. I'm alone with these guys I don't know very well, and the two guys who I do know—Tyler and Greg—are about to race two scarily fast cars.
I'm not a risk-taker. I never have been. The only risk I ever took was dating a boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Suzanne warned me about Tyler. She told me we just weren't on the same page for something serious. She suggested that I date the captain of the football team, whose father owned the local country club. "You'll never want for anything," she told me. "You have to think practically rather than with your heart. I mean, look at me and Vernon. I made a pragmatic decision, but we couldn't be happier."
When I asked her about what she meant, she told me she'd dated a bad boy before she met her husband and had to decide between the two. She didn't regret her choice one bit.
But I'm not like Suzanne. I never have been. My heart decides, and the rest of me follows. Being pragmatic about love is like trying to hold water in your hands, at least for me.