When Rivals Lose (Bayshore Rivals 2)

“Do you still have it? The tape…”

Sullivan turns, his eyes snapping up to mine. “Why?”

“Do you or do you not?” I ask again. The air grows thick as all eyes move to Sullivan.

His face pales just a bit, and then he says, “I swear no one’s seen it but me.”

“But you still have it?” I push.

“Yes,” he finally admits. “Yes, I still have it.”

“Jesus dude, you didn’t delete it?” Oliver barks, and I swear he’s just looking for a reason to clobber his brother. Then again, I’m kinda interested in seeing it.

“I can’t believe you, you really are a dickhead,” Banks chimes in, just as disappointed in his brother as Oliver is. “I should kick you in the nuts right now.”

“I want to see it. I want to see the tape.” I don’t even think about the repercussions or how it’s going to make me feel afterward. All I want is to see it, because maybe, just maybe, reliving my past will make me remember it fully. Sullivan pulls out his phone and thumbs through it, pausing as soon as he finds the video.

Slowly, he hands it to me, shame and guilt, among a slew of other emotions paint his features. Ignoring how that makes me feel, I take the phone, and without any hesitation, I hit play.

The video starts, Sullivan and I are in a bedroom, already lying on the bed, naked. His body is covering most of mine, but I still feel weird with Oliver beside me, who can clearly see the screen.

“Do you want me to fuck you hard and fast or slow and gentle?” Sullivan’s voice comes through the speaker and my breath hitches. He sounds different, his tone laced with lust, his voice deeper, reaching into the tiny crevices of my soul.

“Slow, please,” my voice comes out strong, and I watch intently as he starts moving, his hips thrusting forward with determination. The muscles of his back ripple and he looks like a man on a mission, a mission of pleasure. As I watch, heat creeps up my neck and cheeks, while tingles of warmth spread throughout my core.

“Do you wish it was all three of us doing this with you right now? That we got to take turns with you? Making you come over and over again.” Holy shit. I almost drop the phone. Why would he ask me that? Swallowing loudly, I glance up at Oliver and Banks, who are both staring holes straight through me.

“Yes,” I answer, sounding breathless. “I would like that…”

Hearing my answer, I drop the phone. It slips out of my trembling hands and falls to the hardwood floor landing with a loud clunk. Moaning sounds fill the room before Sullivan can snatch the phone from the ground and turn off the recording.

My cheeks are on fire, and my head feels like it’s about to burst into flames. I basically just watched myself in a porn video while three guys were watching me.

Though embarrassing, it was needed, because it showed me that they weren’t lying. I had sex with Sullivan, not all three of them, but I wanted to sleep with all of them, that much was obvious which all but tells me they all mean something to me.

“So…” Banks clears his throat. “Did that help jog your memory?”

Someone, please kill me now. Or at least let me disappear for a little bit.

“You don’t have to feel ashamed, Harlow,” Oliver says. “All three of us knew what we were getting into. We had talked about it at great lengths when things started to change between us. We want you just as badly as you want us.”

“Wanted, you mean?” I correct him, though, we all know that I’m lying. Even if I don’t remember them fully, in some ways my body does, it’s drawn to each of them in its own way, each of them taking something different from me, and giving me a little piece of themselves back.

“Stop denying it. We know you want us, and you know that we want you. Enough damage has already been done, enough time has been wasted, and I don’t want to play games anymore.” Banks states, matter of factly.

“It’s not that easy for me. My body remembers you, but my brain doesn’t. I’m afraid, okay? How can I trust anyone or anything, when I can’t even trust my own brain?”

“You can trust us,” Sullivan assures, his hand reaching for mine.

“Brain injuries take a while to heal, and sometimes the memories never come back, but that doesn’t mean we’re just going to walk away or let something happen to you.” Sullivan’s fingers interlock with mine, and for the first time today, I feel safe.

“Why don’t we get something to eat and talk about what happened today?” Oliver suggests, and everybody nods their heads in agreement.