Out of the Ashes (The Game 5)

“Yeah, well.” He blew out a frustrated sigh and scratched his neck. “It’s hard. For once in my life—our life, together—it would be nice to have long-term plans and goals. At the same time, it feels way too early to discuss how we’re gonna open our relationship again eventually.”

That was really the kick in the head, wasn’t it?

Franklin popped up in my thoughts again, because I couldn’t help but wonder…

“Do you get jealous, Master?” he asked softly.

I gave him my full attention and draped an arm around him. “Sometimes, absolutely. That’s… I think the cause is the lack of stability and security we’ve had in the past, though. We’re not particularly jealous by nature, you and I. It’s why I’m certain we will find a compromise that suits us, and I’ve been thinking that maybe the answer is a more steady arrangement with someone.”

He frowned. “How would that help?”

I hummed and combed back his hair with my fingers. “I believe in our love, Tate. I believe our need for each other is strong enough that we can handle actually caring about someone else too.”

“That’s interesting because this is just giving me a stomachache.”

Part of me wanted to laugh—if only the situation hadn’t been so serious.

I was done waiting for the topic to pop up organically. I had to bring up Franklin.

But fuck if Tate wasn’t right about the stomachache. I felt my own stomach twist and churn painfully, because this could cause a downward spiral.

“We gotta discuss something that’s still contaminated between us.” I gathered his hand in mine and gave it a squeeze. “No judgment whatsoever on my end. I only ask that you’re completely honest, not just with me but to yourself.”

He swallowed audibly and couldn’t look warier.

“I took things too far when I accused you of cheating,” I admitted. “I didn’t even give you the chance to explain—”

“But I get it, sweetheart,” he whispered in a rush, appearing all but nauseated. “I know it looked bad from your perspective. I get it.”

I leaned in and nipped at his nose. “I’m talking.”

“Sorry.”

While I appreciated he could see it from my side of things, it didn’t matter anymore.

I cleared my throat and peered down at our clasped hands, our fingers threaded, our grip on each other tight and a little clammy. So much was at stake, but I meant what I’d said. Our love was strong. We had to give it the faith it deserved.

“I don’t believe you’ve crossed any lines,” I said quietly. “I don’t believe you did anything you shouldn’t’ve with Franklin. But can you look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t form an attachment to him that could one day turn into something more?”

I lifted my gaze to his as the last words left my lips, and I watched him stiffen and furrow his brow. The corners of his eyes tightened a fraction.

“Yes.”

Really? I stared at him, waiting. Was he telling me the truth?

I’d read the messages. I knew my boy. He cared for Franklin, and Tate had been more…well, dominant with him. The way he’d spoken in text, it’d been clear that Tate had been in control. I’d sensed a connection that hinted at something other than just friendship.

He cleared his throat. “I can honestly say that I didn’t once think about Franklin as a potential partner, even in a future scenario,” he said. “My attachment to him is purely platonic, and I didn’t feel anything until—”

I raised my brows.

He flinched and clenched his jaw.

“Don’t get upset.” I brought his hand to my lips and kissed his knuckles. Meanwhile, my heart started hammering in my chest, and I felt queasy. Queasy and curious and jealous and hopeful—all at once. It was an utter clusterfuck. “Tell me.”

He withdrew from me and scrubbed his hands over his face. “There was something last weekend—a brief moment. We met up for coffee right after the munch. I wanted a distraction after seeing you storm out of the restaurant, so I called him. And, as fucking usual, I spent most of the time talking about you. I was already falling apart.” He swallowed hard. “Somehow, we started talking about kink. I think he asked about our fetishes. I’d mentioned before that we weren’t entirely compatible, but I never shared details, so… Last Sunday was the day he learned that I’m a switch. Since I’ve spent so many hours talking about your dominance, he assumed—with the little experience he has—that I’m a sub. And I get it, that’s my vibe or whatever.”

Funnily enough, the jealousy faded right then and there. Because I could figure out the rest myself. Franklin suddenly saw Tate in a new light.

“He changed right then and there,” Tate went on, thinking back. He was lost in thought, concentrating, brows knitted together. “He became fidgety and couldn’t look me in the eye as easily.”