Page 34 of Emeric

SYLVAN

Three days ago, I received a text from Emeric asking if I had time to talk with him and Oleander. I wanted to ask about what, but I refrained. Why? Because I was too nervous to do so. It was ridiculous not to ask a simple question, although the moment he said we should talk, my mind went to a hundred different scenarios.

Emeric had said he wanted to be with Oleander too. We both desired him. Did he speak to him and find out what Oleander desired? Did he want a relationship with both of us? Or was this something to do with Jordan or any other number of other things?

Logically, I knew it was about a possible relationship, if that was even what it would be. That didn’t stop my mind from replaying scenario after scenario through my waking hours and my dreams. I was battered during the days and at night to the point I couldn’t write at all. Instead, I’d put the TV on and stared at it without paying attention to what was playing.

As I walked around the house, dusting surfaces that didn’t need it, arranging pillows that no one would scrutinize the location of, and straightening curtains when they wouldn’t even be looked at twice, I realized I was slowly losing my mind. I went down the anxiety spiral that I hadn’t been on in quite a while. The ride where my thoughts kept getting worse, until there was nothing left to do but curl in a ball and wait for the misery to end.

Panic attacks were no one’s friend. They were hell to live through, especially when they happened more than once a day, every day, without always knowing the triggers.

The thing was, I had no reason to be nervous around either man coming to my home. Oleander I’d known for years. I wasn’t afraid of him, far from it. He’d be someone I’d run to if I were in trouble. And Emeric, he kissed like a dream. I could have melted against him, lived and breathed him for as long as he’d let me.

Now I had the memory of our kiss in my mind. It was much preferable to what was previously swimming through my head.

I put down the pillow I was arranging, not bothering to give it a second look. It was a pillow. It had one job. If it wasn’t doing that, then I didn’t care. Was I really thinking about the job of pillows? My mind was truly lost.

In the kitchen, I took the roast from the oven, the vegetables from the stovetop, and stirred the rice. Dinner was going to be smaller, which was better if we were going to talk. I didn’t want a large meal sitting in my stomach like a brick. Then again, the roast might do the same thing depending on what they said.

Little by little, so as not to risk dropping an item, I carried plates, cutlery, and glasses to the table, followed by the food. I made sure to keep everything covered so it would stay warm. As soon as I had the last dish down, my phone vibrated with an alert. Oleander and Emeric were at the gate, Oleander entering the code. He had driven his Subaru here instead of one of the Navigators. That detail alone let me know this was personal, not work-related. Oleander sometimes drove his car while working for Jordan, but usually only when high speed and maneuverability were necessary, like when he was chasing someone down.

I walked through the kitchen and main living area, past the stairs, to wait by the door they would enter through. It didn’t matter how hard I tried; I couldn’t stop my hands from twisting in front of me in nerves. This felt much bigger than anything I’d experienced in the last few years. Whatever was about to happen would change things. That much I was certain.

Seconds ticked by before I heard the lock disengage, and the door swung open, revealing Oleander first, followed by Emeric. Oleander was more relaxed in jeans and a T-shirt. Emeric wore black slacks and a navy button-down, with the top couple of buttons undone. It didn’t matter what they wore. They would still both be beautiful.

Emeric walked to me first, stopping so my eyes were on him, not anyone else. I was used to that move from the other man in the room, but I had to admit, I could take a deeper breath with Emeric right in front of me. That said a lot about how my feelings for him had grown.

“Can I?” he whispered, his hand hovering near my shoulder.

I nodded, not trusting my voice not to crack or squeak when sound finally exited it.

His hand lifted to the side of my neck where he held me gently, his thumb brushing along my skin. Chills broke out from my neck down, spreading like wildfire to every part of my body. “We’re just here to talk, nothing more. This is a discussion about the three of us. If at any point you’re uncomfortable or don’t want to continue, let us know, and we’ll stop.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

He smiled then, this gorgeous, radiant grin that made my knees weak. I wrote about smiles like that and how they affected the characters in my stories, but I’d never experienced one myself.

I wasn’t a virgin. At the same point, I wasn’t overly experienced. The men I’d been with weren’t the kind I’d write books about. I might have had feelings for them that were born out of lust. They weren’t the men I’d spend my life with. Not to say Emeric and Oleander were either. If I were being honest with myself, that was one of the scenarios I’d thought about. Having them both in bed with me, in the kitchen helping me cook, in the greenhouse carrying what I harvested. My fantasies could really grow legs.

Emeric moved to the side, so I could get a full view of Oleander. It was the first time I’d seen Oleander nervous. I didn’t doubt that was what he was feeling. I knew what it looked and felt like. For some reason, seeing him that way made me bolder. My own anxiety faded as I walked toward him, more confident than I’d ever been around him.

“I’m all right,” I told him when I was close enough. Oleander worried about me. It was clear every time he was here, but it became more so the past couple of visits. “How are you?”

He let out a shaky chuckle. “You’re asking me?”

“Why not?”

“I’m not sure. It’s not something people typically ask me who aren’t family.”

“Well, they should. We’re all human, and being so means we have emotions. We go through situations that aren’t easy, especially in what you do for Jordan. Yet, you’re in front of me, so I’m the one asking how you are.” I made sure to keep my voice even but also firm. I wanted him to understand that it didn’t matter if he was a tough guard. He could be soft and gentle too. I’d witnessed it. He’d told me about his daughter years ago. It shattered me to hear what happened. I was also glad he felt he could trust me with something so important to him.

“You’re too good, Sylvan.”

“I’m not. I don’t think anyone is. We all have dark sides, although some won’t admit it.”

“I know you will. You’ve created scenes for Jordan to use.”

“I’d like to hear about this,” Emeric said, joining our conversation and stepping close, his hand going to the small of my back.