Page 97 of Claiming Lily

The words are barely out of my mouth before I’m diving into the action, mowing down zombies with precision that has the guys whooping.

“Fuck yeah, Red!” Cole laughs as I clear a path for his wounded character.

I flash him a grin before focusing back on the screen, doing such a good job that I even surprise myself.

As we play, my mind drifts to Matt. God, what an ass he was. I can still hear his voice, sharp and cruel: “Stop touching that! You’ll break it. Just watch TV or something.” He’d yank controllers from my hands, tell me I was too slow to even help him and that I’d be wasting his time or fucking up his streak. The difference between now and then is so clear, and it’s obvious that these three are everything I’ve ever deserved and more.

“Behind you!” Hudson calls out, and I spin my character just in time to blast a zombie creeping up on Gage.

“My hero.” Gage bumps my shoulder with his, the contact sending little sparks through me.

We fall into an easy rhythm. Each of us calling out strategies, covering each other’s backs, celebrating victories with high-fives and triumphant shouts. When Cole’s character goes down, I risk my own to revive him. When a boss zombie corners Hudson, we all converge to take it down together.

Sure, it’s only a video game, but I can’t help feeling like this is what partnership is meant to be.

“Holy shit, we actually cleared the level!” Cole throws his hands up in victory.

“Thanks to Lily.” Hudson’s looking at me with something that might be pride, and my cheeks warm.

“Team effort.” I set my controller on the coffee table and lean back into the couch cushions.

Gage’s arm slides around my shoulders, pulling me against his side. Cole’s hand finds my knee, thumb tracing idle patterns on my skin. Hudson’s watching us with that soft expression I’m starting to recognize, the one that says we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.

Not that long ago, I was trapped in a relationship that made me feel invisible. A few weeks ago, I escaped death. Now I’m here, in this perfect moment, surrounded by three men who see me, value me, want me around not just for my body but for who I am.

This is home.

This is family.

This is love in its rawest, most honest form.

Yeah, I think I can get used to this.

Chapter Thirty-Three

GAGE

Cole, Hudson, and I sit at the diner, waiting for Matt. A weird silence has settled between us. I think we’re all still grieving the friendship we knew in our own way. Part of me didn’t even want to come, but Hudson said we should at least hear Matt out. The waitress drops off coffee right as Matt pushes into the restaurant.

He heads over, eyes tired and beard over grown, but he doesn’t look hung over. That’s new. “Hey,” he says, nodding at us and taking the seat next to Cole. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“What, no calling names this time?” I ask, still pissed at him for everything he said about Lily. Hudson and Cole don’t scold me. Probably because they feel the same way.

Matt glances at the table, takes a deep breath, and meets my gaze. “I was an asshole.”

“You think?” Cole asks.

“You crossed so many lines, Matt. Damaged company property,” Hudson adds. That’s the most fucked up thing of all. He can be mad at us all day, but he messed with the company to get back at us, and that risked Hudson taking over.

Taking a mug of coffee, he drinks and nods. “I did. I was mad⁠—”

“That’s not an excuse to act the way you did,” I cut him off.

“I know,” he says, forehead lining. “I know I fucked up in so many ways. I was so angry. At Lily. At you guys. At myself.” He shakes his head. “I started therapy.” His declaration is met with silence. Therapy is great and all, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to change. Frown deepening, he looks at each of us. “Listen, I, I miss my friends. I know I fucked up. I apologized to Lily and I’m here apologizing to you.”

“You haven’t actually said sorry,” I point out.

He exhales. “Right. I’m sorry.”