Page 29

And yet, as I watch her gather the kids and head upstairs to work on homework I assume, her movements graceful and self-assured, I can't help but wonder: what if?
I find myself drifting back to memories of college, of nights spent tangled in sheets with Austin and whoever caught our fancy that week. The image of Skylar overlays those hazy recollections, and I feel a familiar heat coiling in my gut.
"You okay there, Cohen?" Theo's voice cuts through my reverie. "You look a million miles away."
I blink, focusing on his concerned green eyes. "Yeah, just...thinking."
Austin snorts from across the room. "Dangerous pastime."
"For you, maybe," I retort, falling into our usual banter. But my mind is still churning. I clear my throat. "Remember when we used to, uh...share?"
The room goes still. Austin's eyebrows shoot up, and Theo's lips part in surprise.
"That was a lifetime ago," Austin says, his voice low and guarded. “And keep your voice down. The last thing we need is for her to hear us talking about this.”
I nod, feeling the weight of unspoken possibilities hanging in the air. "All I’m saying is...it worked for us then."
Theo leans forward, his usually relaxed posture taut with interest. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"
I run a hand through my hair, heart pounding. "I'm not suggesting anything. I'm just...remembering."
Austin's eyes narrow. "Remembering, or fantasizing?"
I meet his gaze, unflinching. "Both, maybe."
The silence stretches between us, thick with tension and unspoken desires. Finally, Theo breaks it with a soft chuckle.
"Well," he says, a hint of his usual dry humor creeping back into his voice, "you know me. I've always preferred company when it comes to...intimate situations."
I remember all too well. Theo, always so guarded, only truly letting loose when he wasn't the sole focus of attention. It was his way of keeping emotional distance, I realize now.
Austin paces the room, his movements sharp and agitated. "This is insane," he mutters. "We're not in college anymore. We have responsibilities, reputations to maintain."
"And feelings," I add quietly, thinking of the way Skylar's presence seems to electrify the air around us all.
Theo nods, his expression thoughtful. "Complicated feelings."
We fall silent again, each lost in our own thoughts. The possibility I've raised hangs between us, tempting and terrifying in equal measure.
The room feels charged, the tension palpable as we all silently navigate the undercurrents of what hasn’t been said. My pulse thuds in my ears, and I can't tell if it's from the implications of our conversation or the lingering image of Skylar standing her ground, like she belonged here more than any of us.
Austin stops pacing abruptly, turning to face us with a scowl that doesn’t quite mask his discomfort. “This is ridiculous. She's here for the kids. That’s it. Anything else is irrelevant.”
His words cut through the moment like a whip, and I see the hard set of his jaw, the way his fists clench at his sides. But I know him well and it’s not anger—it’s fear. Fear of losing control. Fear of the emotions that seem to swirl around Skylar and pull us all into her orbit.
Theo crosses his arms, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced with something sharper, edgier. “You’re not blind, Austin. You see the way Cohen looks at her. Hell, you know the wayyoulook at her.”
“Enough! She’s the nanny. Thetemporarynanny. Period. Let’s not lose sight of that.”
I open my mouth to respond, but he holds up a hand, silencing me. “And don’t think for a second I haven’t noticed the way Cohen looks at her. Or the fact that Theo’s clearly hiding something.”
Theo bristles, his jaw tightening. “I’m not hiding shit.”
Austin arches a brow, his expression skeptical. “Really? Because the way you’re acting screams otherwise.”
“I’m not hiding anything. She didn’t want to address it, so I respected her wishes. Doesn’t mean I’m pretending it never happened.”
“What?Whathappened?”