Broken Compass

“Kash.” Green eyes so close to mine, a sweet small face, and I reach for her because I know she’s mine, that she’s good for me, before I even place her. “Was it a nightmare?”

“Ah-huh.” I slide my hand up her shoulder to her neck, to her face. Her silky cheek is soft and full under my palm, and she smells like roses. And then her face clicks, and I tug her toward me. “Syd.”

She crawls on the bed beside me, puts her arms around me without a fight, without an argument, without any sharp edges or bleeding wounds.

I wrap myself around her, burying my face in her neck.

Maybe it’s the lingering sickness, the exhaustion, the uncertainty, the guy trailing me, or what I witnessed at West’s apartment.

Maybe it’s the nightmare, the dead faces that used to be so dear.

Whatever it is, it’s cracked me open. I can’t stand the loneliness anymore. The emptiness. I miss my former life, miss my family too damn much. The empty hole in my chest is aching like the old wound it is, the hole where my love for them used to be. I’m incomplete. I’m cut off from everyone and everything I once knew, and Sydney’s touch, her grip on me is such a fucking relief.

No, more than that. It’s a pleasure unlike any I’ve ever known.

A creak at the door has me tensing, and I lift my head, but then Nate steps in, letting in a strip of light.

For some reason, when I see him, the tension seeps away again.

“I thought I heard something,” he says, his gaze on me. He leans back against the wall, dressed in low-slung pajama bottoms, a soft gray cotton, his chest bare. “You okay?”

I eye him, cataloguing the signs of fatigue in his face and posture, the hard line of his mouth. “You couldn’t sleep, either?”

He looks away, cheeks coloring, eyes glittering, and folds his bare arms over his chest.

“Want to join us?” Sydney asks, and I start, my hold around her tightening, as her words sink in. I remember them curled up together in his bed earlier, how they looked, pale bodies and slack faces, breathing in tandem.

What would it be like to have in my bed not only Syd, but also Nate, his strong arms around us, his long body stretched out beside us?

The question rolls about in my mind like a dark gem, smooth and enchanting. And I discover that I don’t mind the thought. Not as much as I thought I would, anyway.

But he shakes his head, dark hair flying. “I should let you guys sleep.” Whiskey-colored eyes peek out from under long lashes. “If that’s what you’re planning on doing.”

He steps out, leaving that hanging in the air, and heat curls around my neck and shoots down my back.

Damn.

“You wanted to talk,” I whisper in Sydney’s ear. “What did you wanna tell me?”

“It’s late. Get some sleep.”

“Are you upset, Syd?”

“What? With you?”

“Yeah. About last night.”

“Why would I be? I wanted it. Wanted you.”

Relief swamps me. “But you want Nate and West.”

“And you, too. God, Kash, haven’t you figured it out yet?”

“Figure out what?” Her body, her smell, her face, her hair, it’s all distracting me.

“I want all three of you.”

This can’t be right. What does she mean? “So you haven’t chosen yet.”