Page 148 of Ruthless Desires: Vol. One

Oliver

After we say goodnight, Elliot takes Wren into his shower, and I drag Rhett into mine. He washes me silently. Tenderly. I don’t know how he’s managing this much vulnerability without getting all tense and awkward, but I don’t care. I’m just grateful we’re back to being okay.

“Are you going to be able to sleep?” I ask as we dry off.

“I think so. You all wore me out.”

After hanging up my towel, I start to leave the bathroom, but he grabs my arm. His towel is knotted around his waist.

“Wait.” He tugs me over to the counter, and when he picks up the orange prescription pill bottle with the name OLIVER MOORE printed on it, my stomach turns.

“Rhett—”

“Elliot counted the pills and did the math. You stopped taking them a week ago.”

“I…”

Unscrewing the cap, he shakes a pill into his palm. “We’ll talk about it later. But for now—” He doesn’t have to finish, holding his hand out to me instead.

I take the pill, swallowing it dry. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “You’re not less of a person because you have to take them, O.”

My shoulders sag as he pulls me close.

“Thank you for tonight,” he murmurs, kissing my forehead.

It eases the ache in my chest. When he pulls away, I grin. “I think Wren and I should jump you more often.”

He snorts. “Maybe we’ll jump you.”

“You say it like I wouldn’t be okay with that.”

Rolling his eyes, he shoves me toward my room. “Bed. Now.”

I bury myself under my covers, watching Rhett as he finishes getting ready for bed. When he climbs under the blankets, he doesn’t pull me into his arms. I wish he would, but I understand why he needs his space.

I take in his face before he shuts off the lamp. He looks as happy as I feel—which for Rhett means there’s the barest hint of a smile on his lips.

It doesn’t take long before I’m drifting off into a light sleep. My breathing must deepen, because the words that come out of Rhett’s mouth aren’t ones he’d say if he thought I was still awake.

He shows it—all the fucking time. Every single day. But he rarely eversaysit.

“I know you know,” he says quietly. “And I know you don’t mind that I don’t say it often. But I love you, Oliver.”

I don’t reply, don’t react, too scared to make him uncomfortable. I have to blink back the tears filling my eyes at the same time that I smile into the darkness.

I love you, too, Rhett.

Chapter eighteen

Wren

After we shower, Elliot pulls me into a hot bath, saying something about not wanting me to be too sore tomorrow. I’m exhausted and all I want to do is sleep, but that also means I’m too tired to protest.

Elliot helps me into the tub, and I sink into the water in between his legs. It reminds me so much of the first couple of nights I spent with them, barely even a week ago.

Jesus Christ. It’s only been a week?