For a moment, it feels normal. Like we're just four people having breakfast together. Like we're not tangled up in club politics and secrets and complicated feelings.
I catch Zay watching me with that intense look he gets sometimes—like I'm the only thing in the room that matters. And when I glance at Asher, there's something softer in his usually cold eyes. Something that looks dangerously like affection.
My chest tightens with a complicated mix of emotions. Love and guilt and fear all twisted together.
"So," Zay says casually, but there's weight behind the word. "We gonna talk about the elephant in the room?"
"What elephant?" I ask, even though I know exactly what he means.
"The one where you're clearly involved with all of us and we're all pretending we don't notice," he says bluntly.
I choke on my orange juice. Xavier's hand tightens on mine under the table.
"Subtle," Asher mutters.
"Why be subtle?" Zay leans back in his chair, studying me. "We're all adults. We all have feelings for her. She clearly has feelings for all of us. Might as well address it instead of dancing around it."
"Zay—" I start.
"Am I wrong?" He raises an eyebrow. "Tell me I'm wrong and I'll drop it."
I can't. He's not wrong. "No. You're not wrong."
"Okay then." He looks at Xavier, then Asher. "So what are we doing about it?"
"That's what we were discussing upstairs," Xavier says quietly. "Before you so rudely interrupted with breakfast."
"And?" Asher asks, focused on Xavier.
Xavier's quiet for a moment, his jaw working. I can feel the tension radiating off him, the discomfort with this conversation. But he takes a breath and meets their eyes.
"And I'm not going to make her choose," he says finally. "I love her too much to force that."
The words hang in the air. Zay and Asher both go still.
"You love her," Zay repeats slowly.
"Yeah." Xavier's hand squeezes mine almost painfully. "I do. And I'm man enough to admit that I can't be everything she needs right now. Maybe ever. So if you two can—if she wants—" He stops, clearly struggling with the words.
"Xavier," I say softly, turning to look at him. "You don't have to?—"
"Yes, I do." He finally looks at me, and there's vulnerability in his eyes that takes my breath away. "Because I'm not losing you. And if that means sharing, then—" He takes a breath. "Then I'll find a way to deal with it."
"I love you," I whisper, tears pricking my eyes again. "You know that, right?"
"I know." He brings my hand to his lips, kisses my knuckles. "I know, baby."
Zay clears his throat. "For what it's worth, I feel the same way. About her. About—" He gestures vaguely. "All of it."
"Me too," Asher adds quietly. "Though I'm significantly less comfortable discussing feelings at the breakfast table."
I laugh through the tears. "This is insane. We're all insane."
"Probably," Xavier agrees. "But we're insane together. That has to count for something."
"So what does this mean?" I ask, looking at each of them. "Practically speaking. What are we doing here?"
"We figure it out," Zay says simply. "Together. No rules, no pressure. Just—" He shrugs. "We see what happens."