Page 85 of The Triple Play
“Thank you.” She takes it gratefully. “When Oscar got out, I didn’t stop to get my coat, I just ran after him. And to answer your question, no, he doesn’t climb trees. I don’t know why he did it tonight, but maybe something scared him. Either way, he won’t come down. He just stares at me and meows.”
I’ve hung out with Harold and Sweet Pea enough to know most cats don’t get into situations they can’t get out of. I could suggest she just go back inside and leave the cat, but when it does come down, then what? She’d be inside, and the cat would be out here, and there’s coyotes in the area.
I blow out a breath.
“Okay. I’ll climb up and get him.”
“What?” She turns toward me, shock evident in her voice. “Oh no, you can’t do that. He’ll come down, maybe I could go and get some treats now that you’re here to keep an eye on him?”
But I’m already moving toward the tree, figuring out where I can hold on. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ve climbed plenty of trees in my life. I’ll get him down.” I shoot her a reassuring grin and then reach for the lowest branch.
Here’s the other thing about most cats. They love to be annoying pieces of shit who mock humans every chance they get.
And this one is no different. As soon as I climb up, level with him, the damn animal meows in my face, then leaps down to a lower branch, then down again, until he uses his claws to basically run down the rest of the tree and straight to his owner, where he weaves between her legs.
“Oh, you naughty boy,” she cries out, scooping him up. Looking back at me, she calls out her apology. “I’m so sorry, are you alright?”
I nod, pasting on a smile. “All good.” I shift my position and move to start climbing down, lowering my foot to the branch below me. A branch that’s covered in slick slime, causing my foot to go shooting out from under me.
I scrabble to hold on, but it’s no use.
I climbed plenty of trees when I was a kid. I also fell out of more than a few of them. And now I can add one more to both lists.
I hit the ground wrong, landing on my left shoulder in a way that sends immediate pain lancing through me. “Shit,” I gasp, my eyes watering as I lie on the wet grass.
The woman’s still holding her damn cat as she runs over and drops down beside me. “Oh no, are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?”
I clench my jaw against the agony shooting down my arm. “Yeah. I think I do.”
Then I pass out.
36
OLIVIA
I’ve been crying into my pillow ever since Denver and Griffin left. And as it closes in on an hour since they walked out my door, I’m not sure how I have any tears left.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt—no, I’ve believed—that I’m just not lovable. Not in a romantic way. There have always been parts of me that are deemed undesirable by men. I’m too tall, too strong, too skinny, too smart, or too serious. Or I’m not feminine enough, not pretty enough, not small enough.
I’ve never fit.
Until Denver and Griffin showed up at a remote research cabin to rescue me.
With them, I didn’t have to be smaller because I still fit in their arms. I didn’t have to be prettier because they looked at me like I was the most beautiful woman on earth. I didn’t have to dumb myself down because they understood my passions and encouraged my curiosity.
And I pushed them both away, because I’m too afraid to admit that I’ve fallen in love with them both.
“God, I’m an idiot,” I sob, my voice cracking.
Yet, what I said to them earlier still rings true in my mind. I have no right to be so selfish, so greedy as to want them both. What we had was a fantasy. Not something that exists in real life.
But it does…
That quiet voice whispers inside my head. The same voice that led me down an internet rabbit hole the other day, researching unconventional relationships with more than two people involved. I found social media accounts, online articles, interviews, and so much more. Those who appear to be happy and thriving while in a relationship with three people.
Even faced with that evidence, my brain resisted.
It worked for them, but that doesn’t mean it could work for me.
