Because I don’t even know what I meant. Not fully. All I knew in that moment was the feeling—this tight, suffocating dreadthat she was slipping away. That she’d leave without getting what she came for.
That I’d let that happen.
I drag a hand down my face, exhaling slowly. I don’t have a clean answer. I don’t have any kind of answer.
“We need to do this together,” Luke continues. “Or it’s not going to work.”
I frown slightly. “Do what?”
“Share her.”
For a second, I think I misheard him.
Something sharp and instinctive hits me low in the gut before I can even process the words properly.
I blink.
Then again.
“Huh?”
Luke exhales, shaking his head as he glances between me and Tal. “God, do I have to spell everything out for you two? She wants us—all of us. We all want her. The only way this works without tearing everything apart is if we share.”
“Whoa.” I lift a hand, instinctively pushing back. “Hold on. That’s… that’s way out of left field. No one wants that. Anyway, it’s not what I meant when I said I wouldn’t let her go.”
“What did you mean then?”
Fuck if I know.
“We can’t share a human being.”
“Obviously not without her permission,” Luke says, like I’m the one being unreasonable here. “But I don’t think it’s that far-fetched. I think she might surprise you.” He shrugs. “Talon and I have done it before. It worked out fine. Right, Tal?”
Talon leans back against the door, arms loose at his sides.
Not untypically, he says nothing.
"Talon, you and Luke also almost killed each other this afternoon. Or did you forget?"
"That's because we were both sick of bottling things up. That's where the jealousy came from, and it made everything worse. But apart from that, we've always been good at sharing. Right, Tal?"
Once again, Talon remains silent, neither nodding nor shaking his head.
"Do you hear yourself?" I frown. "We're talking about a human being, not a toy."
"I know what we're talking about."
"People don't live like that."
"Maybe not people where you're from, but I've met plenty who do. Polyamorous relationships. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don't." He shrugs. "We should at least give it a chance. It's literally the only solution I can think of."
"Well, think harder. Hell, Luke, this isn't even supposed to be about us. This is about her and what she needs." I can feel my voice starting to raise, not so much in anger as frustration. Can’t Luke see what a bad idea this is?
"She needs us too." Luke explains, patiently, making me stand up and start pacing.
"She needs space,” I exclaim, throwing my arms up. “Space to heal, to focus on herself. Not to deal with our shit."
"We can do both." Again, he tries to reason with me, calm me down.