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“Really?” I mutter, though Oscar's poorly concealed smirk tells me he disagrees.

“What? Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“You're overthinking this,” Oscar says, finally setting his phone down. “They're sleeping. That's it.”

“You don't know that,” I counter.

'“And you don't know otherwise,” he replies evenly. “Getting worked up over hypotheticals is pointless.”

I hate when he's reasonable. It's infuriating how he can remain so composed while I feel like I'm about to crawl out of my skin. The rational part of my brain knows he's right. We all agreed Vesper would check on Alex, make sure he got some restbefore he collapsed. But rationality is in short supply when it comes to her. Alex is and always has been our wildcard. A genius with a kill count. While I know he won’t purposely hurt Vesper, a part of me can’t be certain that he won’t.

“Still, I don't like it,” I mutter, resuming my pacing.

“What exactly don't you like?” Oscar sets his phone down, finally giving up the pretense of distraction. “That she might be connecting with someone besides us? Or that it's Alex specifically?”

“Both. Neither. He's not...he doesn't know how to be gentle with her.”

“Have you seen our girl's knuckles lately? After you let her beat a punching bag until she bled? Glass houses, Z.”

“That was different,” I snap. “She needed that.”

“And maybe she needs this too,” Oscar says quietly. “She's not just ours, Z. She never was."“

The truth of his words lands like a blow. We've been so focused on protecting her, on keeping her safe within the boundaries we've established, that we've forgotten she isn't something to be possessed.

“I know that,” I mutter, though the admission costs me.

“Do you?” Talon challenges. “Because from where I'm sitting, you’re about two seconds away from kicking down his door and throwing her over your shoulder. You know, this jealousy issue of yours would be more in control if you accept that at some point, now, or later, Vesper and Alex will happen. It happened with you, Oz, and me. It’s inevitable, and her choice.”

I am well aware it is her choice. I just don’t have to like it.

“The four of us need to sit down. Hash it out, preferably without bloodshed, make decisions, set boundaries, and move on. We could call it the LPM.”

Oz stares at Talon. Eyebrow arched. “And that means?”

“Love Pentagon Meeting. Get it?”

“No,” Oz and I answer at the same time.

“Oh, come on, it would solve all of our problems. We can meet monthly, discuss schedules, and figure out the room sharing situation. Think about it. No more stepping on toes or awkward interruptions. I mean, I love you guys, but I want time alone with her, too.”

“The answer is still no.”

“Aw, come on, it could be a great bonding experience for all of us. We could each come up with our couple names. Dibs on Tesper,” Talon smiles at me. “Oh! Yours could be Vere. No, we can do better than that…” he trails off.

"I hate you, Talon."

"That's not true," Talon grins with an infuriatingly smug look. "You adore me."

"Can't say I see it that way," I retort, attempting to keep my frustration from spilling over.

"Oh, I think you do," Talon shoots back, an insufferable teasing edge to his voice. "I could act offended, but I know you don't really mean it."

"But I really do." I glare at him, however, my irritation only seems to fuel his amusement.

“I have to admit I kind of like seeing you so on edge. So…what’s the word I am looking for, Oz?”

“Unstable? Capricious?” Oscar offers without hesitation, clearly enjoying my unraveling.