She might be a pain in the ass and an Amazon, but neither of those things should be a death sentence. And as much as the thought of her and Shiloh together makes me feel twisted up and fucked in the head, that isn’t a death sentence, either.
Damn my brother for backing me into a corner. I can’t in good conscience sit back and let Abel take care of things in that particular Abel way.
Which means I have to do as he said and get my house in order.
That starts now.
I glance at the door. Or, rather, it starts in the morning.
I don’t sleep. Of course I don’t. My brain is too busy running a montage of devastating and infuriating images behind my eyes. Shiloh and Monroe. In bed, making each other orgasm until they’re too exhausted to continue.
As a result, I’m already frazzled as fuck when I dress and head down to Monroe’s room, far too early to be polite. It doesn’t matter. I can’t find anything worse than what I walked in on last night.
Worse…or better?
I take a deep breath and knock on the door. The barest pause and then Shiloh’s voice emerges. “Come in.”
I don’t actually expect to find them still fucking, but it’s jarring to find both women sitting on the bed. Shiloh is wearing her customary jeans and plain top. Monroe has changed into jeans and another oversized top that should dwarf her figure but somehow manages to show it off instead.
I glance at the couch, taking in the blankets and pillow there. They…didn’t sleep together? I don’t know if that’s a relief or not. I don’t what to think at all anymore.
I push the thought away. “We need to talk.”
“Do we?”
I blink at Shiloh. “Are you going to be pissed at me forever?” The thought hollows out my stomach. I hope to the gods haven’t ruined things between us permanently. Surely there’s a way to figure this out and reclaim our friendship. As much as I want to prioritize that, she really won’t forgive me if my negligence gets Monroe killed.
“I don’t know. Are you going to be a raging dickhead forever?”
Monroe laughs and leans against Shiloh. There’s a faint flush to her cheeks, and her eyes are heavy-lidded with remembered pleasure. The sight sends a bolt of lust through me, but I muscle it back. “I’m sorry,” I grit out. “How many times do I have to say it before it sticks?”
Shiloh looks at me for a long moment. “Until you actually mean it—which you don’t right now. But let’s move on.”
I hate this new distance between us. I hate that I feel like I don’t know her anymore. Or that maybe Abel and Monroe are right and maybe I only ever saw a filtered version of her. The realization isn’t a comfortable one. I want to ask her what the hell happened, but she won’t thank me for the question.
Focus.
“Jasper has requested Monroe’s presence.” I glance at her. “And Winry’s.”
Monroe perks up at that. “When?”
“This morning.”
Shiloh smooths her hair back. “Convenient timing. I have to update Maddox and Cohen, so you can escort Monroe to the meeting.”
It was the plan, but having her dictate it to me in that cold voice sets my teeth on edge. It makes me want to… I muscle the urge down. This isn’t Monroe mouthing off. This is Shiloh.
Up until the shitshow at Lammas, I wouldn’t have even had the urge to put her in her place. It’s like having sex with Monroe woke something inside me that had been slumbering my entire life. I don’t know how the fuck I’m supposed to deal with it now.
Or maybe it’s wasn’t Monroe at all. Maybe it was coming back to Sabine Valley that changed things permanently. “Afterward, the three of us are going to have a chat.”
“We’ll see.” Shiloh gets up and walks into the bathroom. She shuts the door with a finality that makes me want to kick it the fuck down.
“Goddamn it.”
“Problem?” Monroe stands and stretches. Her clothing isn’t suggestive in the least, but I can’t get over the image of Shiloh bending her in half, the flowy white fabric of her shirt bunched up around her ribs, leaving her naked from the waist down. The memory sends a wave of heat through me.
I feel like I’m being torn in two. There was a smart course of action, the logical way to proceed. I know there was. It dissipates through my fingers like smoke. All that’s left is what the feral creature inside me wants.
I move before I can think of the thousands of reasons not to and wrap my fist around Monroe’s blond hair. She doesn’t tense, doesn’t fight me. She simply goes fluid and lets me tilt her head back as I step close enough that we’re damn near plastered together. “Keep that smart mouth in line, Monroe.”