The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood 3)

“When did you make this?” I asked him. “It’s amazing.”

“Oh, thanks. I did it over the weekend.” He looked at me like the tree was no big deal, and not what he wanted to talk about right now. “Lilith, did you hear what I said?”

“Yes.” My tone was cool. “What are you sorry about?”

He sighed. “Everything.”

“Be more specific.” We needed to work on our communication, and I wanted that to start right now.

My request didn’t frustrate him. Instead, he nodded. “First, I’m sorry for what I said to Travis about our friendship being a mistake. I’ve already apologized to him, but I wanted to make sure you know too. He was right. I was scared.” He made a face. “I was fucking terrified.”

This was a good sign, and my pulse quickened. “I’m glad you two talked.”

“Me too.” He motioned toward his couch. “Do you want to sit? I have a lot more to apologize for.”

Another good sign. “Sure.”

I sat, but he didn’t. It made it feel as if he were giving a presentation, selling himself to me, but I didn’t mind that. I could use a little persuasion after the weekend he’d put Travis and me through.

“Second,” he said, “I’m sorry for not saying anything when I started to develop feelings for you. It’s not an excuse, but when I made that promise, I never expected it to happen to me, and when it did—”

“You got scared.”

He set his hands on his hips and hung his head. “Yes. I didn’t want to drive you away.”

“So, you’re saying you’re not scared now?”

He shot me a sad smile. “Oh, no, I’m definitely still scared, but I’m no longer too scared to say so. The last week has been miserable without you.”

It was such a huge step for him to admit what he was feeling. He was genuine and willing to be open. I’d never seen him vulnerable before, and . . . lord. He hadn’t a clue how sexy it was.

“And third,” he came over and sat beside me, close but not too close, “I’m sorry about how I reacted all of last week. I felt like what we’d done—what I’d done—during the threesome crossed a line with Travis. I didn’t ask him if he was okay with what I did, and afterward, I . . . struggled with how I felt and what it meant.”

I turned, tucking one leg beneath the other so I could face him, and softened my voice. “Did it mean something to you?”

“Yes, and no. Travis and I talked about it today. How I liked what we did because it gave me control and power.” He tossed a hand up. “And physically it felt good.”

I couldn’t stop my smile. “It did.”

“I’m not romantically attracted to him, but sexually?” He hesitated, but then pushed through. “I’m trying to get comfortable with the idea that . . . might be a gray area for me. How do you feel about that?”

He looked so nervous, and I put a reassuring hand on his cheek. “I’m more than fine with that. As someone who’s incredibly attracted to both of you, let me say this—I get it.”

I wasn’t trying to make light of what he’d just shared, but dear God, did I understand, and thankfully, he chuckled. It seemed to break some of the tension he had, and he lifted a hand to touch mine on his face.

“I’m sorry for Friday night,” he said. “I felt ambushed and it was a knee-jerk reaction. Everything went off the rails, and when you said it was all or nothing, I thought I’d already lost you. I can’t compete with him.”

He nearly broke my heart all over again, “Oh, my God, Clay.” I leaned in, pressing our foreheads together. “It’s not a competition. I love you both.”

His mouth found mine, and this kiss was as unexpected as they came. He was the confident and in control dominant who could make me tremble, but when my lips pressed against his, I discovered he was shaking. It wasn’t in fear—this was relief. He hadn’t won or lost me to another man.

He was realizing he had us both.

“I’m going to do better,” he said as soon as the kiss ended, “and I have a plan. If you don’t like it, I’ll throw it out, and we can draft a different one.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Very little with you goes according to plan anyway, but do you want to hear it?”

I gave him a knowing look. “Sure.”

“The three of us start a relationship together. Everyone is equal, no one person gets to make the rules.” He stared deep into my eyes like he was pleading with my soul, even though he was asking for the very thing I wanted. “We all love each other, and we all want this to work.”