Doll Parts (The Game 4) - Page 70

“It doesn’t have to be a swift transition,” I said. “We’ve discussed buying a weekend condo in the city before.”

Noa worked long hours a few times a week. It wasn’t unheard of that he would go straight to his internship after a day at…I wanted to say Hollister. And Cam had a lot on his plate too, working nine-to-five at a big firm where he wanted to climb the ladder.

“That was before we decided to cut back on work.” Lucian frowned. “Are you gonna take on more hours again?”

“Fuck no. But it would be nice to be there when the boys come home exhausted—too exhausted to head all the way out here.” We had to consider our age difference as well. “Noa and Cam are just starting their careers, Lucian. We can’t wait for them to be ready to make adjustments. I’d rather meet them halfway and build up a social life with them across the river.”

He smiled faintly and took another drag from his cigarette. “I haven’t heard you discuss a social life in years.”

Yeah, it felt strange. I’d become good at hiding out at home, only attending the bare minimum of work events and other gatherings. But maybe that could change. I’d gotten a new lease on life, and I wanted us to go out to dinner and bars and…just spend time together.

“Noa makes me want to do more,” I admitted. “Cam, too, for that matter. And you know we’re dating two men who love going to clubs and shit. We have to suck it up sometimes.”

He shuddered and smirked wryly. “I’d like to draw the line at nightclubs. Besides, they need some time without us too.”

He wasn’t wrong. In fact, that was great. I hated nightclubs. Let the boys dance their sweet asses off, and then they could come home to us. We’d take them to dinners, bars, shows, and games.

Lucian sighed and rubbed his lips absently. “Maybe you’re right. A place in town could be nice.” He lifted a brow at me. “Do you want to buy?”

Oh God, no. “I’m not sure we can,” I laughed softly. The mortgage we’d taken out for our dream home in Mclean was…hefty. “I’ll make some calls. Arlington has some nice high-rise rentals close to the Metro. We wouldn’t need anything big, maybe a two-bedroom or so.”

I tipped my chin toward the private road. I needed a few more steps before I turned back.

Lucian followed while he finished his smoke. “Do you feel like you’ve landed yet? With everything, I mean.”

I nodded slowly. “Somewhat.” Yeah, I would say so, partly because I’d had an epiphany the other day. “I’ve been thinking lately about how everything would’ve turned out if I hadn’t walked away from Noa when I did. And as much as that guilt will continue to eat at me, I’m not certain we would’ve survived the alternative.”

“How do you mean?”

“You were there when I hit rock bottom after the accident.” I hated thinking about it. I could still feel the phantom ache of that lifeless void sucking me in. I’d been in a constant state of being shoved between depression and night terrors. “Can you imagine placing Noa in that situation? I would’ve scarred him for life.”

I didn’t remember screaming a single time when the avalanche hit. I only had this vivid memory of hearing an otherworldly roar behind me, unlike anything I had ever heard before, and yet I still knew. The moment I’d heard it, the word had slammed into my brain. Avalanche. I hadn’t seen anybody else on the slope, so I’d just hightailed it as fast as humanly possible. I’d eyed my surroundings to determine whether I stood a better chance by diving into the forest that lined the slope. For a quick moment, I’d thought I’d been in the clear. I’d been going so fast that I’d been certain I was going to break my legs at the bottom of the hill, either by crashing into one of the cafés or when I threw myself sideways.

Then everything had gone dark. The deafening roar had swallowed me whole.

The screaming started after I’d been released into Lucian’s care.

“You underestimate him,” Lucian murmured.

“No.” I shook my head. “I know he would’ve stayed by my side. It’s not that. It’s—” I sighed and slowed down. Fuck. Bending over a little, I tried to rub the side of my thigh that was bothering me. Of course it was the leg in which I had a bit more muscle power left that always gave me grief. “I don’t know how to explain. Something would’ve broken—I’m sure of it. Like watching your parent or grandparent grow old and weak. You remember the tongue-lashing your grandmother gave you when she underwent treatment for her cancer. She was furious with you.”

The furrow between his brows deepened, and he squatted down to help me with my thigh. With the last of the smoke dangling between his lips, he squeezed my right leg, up and down along my thigh, until the spasms wore off.

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