Page 43 of Cueball & Double-Z (Alpha’s Rejects #5)

I loved the scraping sound of the blade against Marco’s scalp. I loved scraping away hair and shaving cream, leaving behind smoothness and gleam. He seriously had the most perfectly shaped head. No wonder his Shane called him Cueball.

He sat on the toilet lid as I rinsed the blade in the sink and shaved a new section, careful not to cut him. The razor was sharp as hell. Honestly, I was surprised he trusted me with it after I begged him to let me shave his head. It felt almost sensual. Intimate.

I stood in front of him as he sat there with his eyes closed, appearing calm and serene.

I still struggled to believe he was in his late thirties.

He didn’t have one wrinkle that I could tell.

Maybe because he hardly smiled. Not for years.

Maybe having a smooth face when you’re older meant you didn’t laugh or smile. Maybe it was just genetics.

Meanwhile, Gio lay in the tub, soaking with his head back and his eyes closed, looking so relaxed, a common look for him lately. Gio had finally returned to his old self from before our parents died and our world fell apart. It was good to see, and it made my heart beat faster with love.

Hell, my soul was soaked with love for these two very special men. Broken men. We were all trying to repair each other with love, intimacy, touch, and connection. We’d formed an unusual and special bond, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“This feels good, sweetness,” Marco said. I smiled, feeling warm inside with his endearment. I never got tired of hearing it. “Who knew I’d like someone doing it for me? It’s very relaxing.”

I bent forward and pecked his lips with a kiss.

What I loved most was that we so easily came together, even through Gio’s initial jealousy.

Acceptance could be such a powerful thing.

Acceptance helped you let go of things out of your control.

To move on and adapt. Like me. Once I accepted my guilt in the death of our parents, and that I could never talk again, it grew easier to live with myself.

No amount of talking and telling me it wasn’t my fault would ever change my mind.

I was there. They weren’t. It helped that Gio forgave me.

Well, he never believed it was my fault anyway, or he never told me he did, so I supposed it was easier for him to handle the loss.

I related to Marco in so many ways. He believed he was responsible for the death of Shane.

Being on the outside looking in, I could see that it wasn’t his fault.

As someone who’d been through something similar, I understood how he’d believe that.

It should’ve made me take a step back and look at my situation through different and fresh eyes.

That maybe it hadn’t been my fault, but I couldn’t.

If Gino had been focused, he could’ve avoided that drunk driver.

End of story. I believed that with every fiber of my being.

So, I lived with the acceptance of guilt.

I couldn’t turn back time. I couldn’t fix it.

All I could do for our parents was admit that it’d been my fault.

To accept responsibility and grow so that it never happened again. If that meant my silence, so be it.

Marco’s hands rested on my hips as I faced him, wiping away the last of the shaving cream from his head. Then I grabbed the washcloth sitting on the edge of the sink and cleaned off some cream from the shell of his ears. Bathwater splashed behind me as Gio washed himself.

Once his head was wiped clean, I ran my hands over Marco’s scalp to make sure I got all the hair.

I picked up the tube of moisturizer with SPF and squeezed a quarter-sized dollop onto my palm.

I rubbed my hands together, spreading the cream across my palms. Then I smoothed the lotion onto Marco’s head, massaging it in.

Fingers dug gently into my sides, pulling my attention to the gorgeous man with the beautiful eyes in front of me.

“Cole, we all three need to sit down and talk about things when we wrap this up.”

I nodded.

“What do we need to talk about?” Gio asked.

“About what our expectations are for this relationship. About our futures. About… healing. All of us. We talked about it briefly, but we need to talk more. In fact, we should always talk openly about this relationship going forward.”

I had healed just fine. The only thing I wanted was to tell my guys that I loved them out loud.

To use my voice just once. Just for that.

I’d been practicing almost every day. Well, on the days they weren’t home, so they wouldn’t catch me.

I wanted it to be a surprise. But it never worked. Words refused to come out of my mouth.

“Can you help us?” Gio asked. “Like help with therapy and shit?”

“I am not a therapist, Gio. I trained to be one, but I never became one.”

“But you still know your stuff, right?”

Marco sighed and dropped his hands from my waist before standing as I washed my hands. “I do, but… Look, even if I could, I wouldn’t. There’s too much bias involved. I’m too close to you both.”

“You’re afraid,” Gio snapped, getting out of the water and drying off.

My eyes opened wide, and then I scowled at Gio. ‘Stop! You’re being mean. We care about Marco,’ I frantically signed, worried we’d upset Marco too much. He needed our love, not whatever Gio was trying to do.

He frowned at me as he dried his arms. “It’s the truth. Look, I care about our Marco. But if he wants us all to grow and heal, then he needs to admit it.”

My stomach dipped in worry that this would all come crashing down just when things had started looking up. I wanted Gio to shut up and stop making waves. I got what he was trying to say, but healing also took time—a lot of time, depending on the trauma.

Before I could sign back to argue, Marco said, “You’re right.

I am afraid.” He turned to face the mirror, gripping the sink, but not looking at his reflection.

“I’m terrified I’ll give you the wrong advice or have you do something that will…

” He dropped his head and sighed again. “It’s one thing to tell someone they need therapy, or to get their heads out of their asses.

It’s another to analyze and create structure for growth and healing. I’m… definitely afraid.”

Gio dropped his towel and pressed his naked body against Marco’s back, holding him, resting his chin on his shoulder, looking at him in the mirror. “You need a lot more healing. Admitting that is important.”

I came up and hugged my men, too, fucking relieved that this new relationship didn’t just implode.

Marco’s chuckle was self-deprecating. “I’ve always been about tough love. Not just for them, but to keep my walls up. It’s helping others while keeping my distance.” His amber eyes landed on the mirror to look back at us. “And you just called me out on my shit. Well played, beautiful.”

Gio playfully bit Marco’s shoulder. “I have my moments.”

I finally relaxed and giggled. That was a close one.

Marco finally looked at himself in the mirror and ran a hand over his head. “Nice work, sweetness.”

We all gathered in the living room, sitting on the sofa.

Gio leaned against the armrest, and I sat between his legs, resting my back against his chest. His arms were wrapped around me, his fingers tapping out some beat on my stomach.

Our legs were stretched on top of Marco’s thighs, and he was rubbing my foot.

Nada jumped up to join the snuggle party, gave us a cute little meow before curling up on my lap. She sounded like a damn motorcycle engine whenever she purred, and it vibrated through my thighs. I rubbed her ears, and she rolled over onto her back, stretching her paws at me, so I petted her tummy.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve thought about making a future for myself. I’ve been living day to day with no goals whatsoever. Just going through the motions… until you chaos gremlins came along, upending my life.” Marco huffed a laugh and smirked at us.

Gio and I both chuckled. “Glad to be of service,” Gio quipped.

Marco rolled his eyes, but he didn’t stop smiling.

“Ass. Anyway … You’ve both upended my life in a good way.

I was in a rut. Stuck. You’ve changed all that, and while big changes can be scary, I’m actually looking forward to it.

I’m looking forward to having you both in my life.

You’re very special men. You make me want to do better.

And I need to, for all our sakes. We won’t survive if I slip back, at least not healthily. ”

‘Are you going back to being a therapist?’ I signed.

His smile dropped, and he shook his head. “I don’t think so, Cole. At least not right now. It will take a lot of work to get back into it, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to treat anyone. My current job is boring and unchallenging, but it pays well.”

“All our jobs are boring,” Gio agreed. “I don’t exactly have dreams of washing dishes my entire life.”

‘Or me making sandwiches. I like Ezra, but I don’t want to do that forever.’

Marco nodded and grabbed my other foot, massaging that one, digging his thumb into my arch.

Why did that feel so good? “Yes, I think we need to set some employment goals for ourselves. If we want to be happy in our relationship, we should also be happy outside of it. As much as we can, anyway. I may not go back to being a therapist, but I’m thinking of returning to the social work system.

I’m already volunteering, so I can easily branch out and do more.

I want to do something rewarding again. Something that brings more meaning to my life. ”

‘You should do it,’ I signed. ‘I want to do something rewarding. I have thoughts.’

“What were you thinking, sweetness?”

‘I want to help the Deaf community and other mute people like myself.’

Gio kissed the side of my head. “I think that’s an amazing idea.”

“It’s a lot of schooling, Cole. Are you ready for that?”