Page 18 of Shared by my Ex’s Best Friends (Twisted Desires #2)

Chapter eighteen

LIAM

T he second I see Nick’s name flash across my phone screen, I know this won’t end well.

It’s too late in the day, I’m too damn tired, and his name already feels like a warning siren going off in my chest.

Still, I answer.

“What’s up?” I say flatly.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he snaps without preamble. “Helping her with this wedding after everything she put me through.”

My grip tightens around the phone. “Maya is doing her job, and doing it damn well. I don’t have anything to do with her staying.”

“She shouldn’t be there,” he growls, clearly furious. “You know what she meant to me. This whole thing is a circus.”

“No,” I bite back, standing now and walking toward the window. “It’s not, and it’s wild you keep thinking you still get a say in her life.”

There’s a bit of silence, sharp as a blade. I can practically hear his jaw clenching through the line.

“She’s not your responsibility,” he says finally. “You don’t know her like I do.”

I exhale hard through my nose, pressing my free hand to the back of my neck. “No, I just see her. The version you ignored until it was too late. Don’t call me to rewrite your regrets, man.”

He lets out a bitter laugh, low and mean. “You think you’re better than me?”

“I know I’d never walk away from her.”

That shuts him up. For a second.

Then he sneers, “Funny. You think she’d pick you over Jake or Ethan?”

That hits a nerve and I see red.

I shut my eyes, willing the surge of heat back down, but it’s no use. Something inside me snaps.

“Get off my damn phone, Nick,” I snarl, and I hang up.

I stare at the screen, jaw tight, breath shallow.

The room suddenly feels too small. The walls press in, thick with silence. I toss the phone on the nightstand and drag a hand through my hair, pacing once before sitting heavily on the edge of the bed.

Elbows on my knees. Head in my hands.

I tell myself to let it go. That he’s not worth the energy.

But his voice plays on repeat, that smug tone when he said her name like it still belonged to him.

Maya.

She’s in my head again.

Not the way Nick talks about her—not as a possession or a memory or a ghost. No, I see her as she is now.

The way she laughed with her whole body while we strung up greenery, cheeks flushed.

I feel her in my chest… in my heart.

I’ve never wanted someone like this. Not with this intensity. Not with this ache. It’s not just want. It’s need. This magnetic pull that drags me toward her whether I’m ready or not.

And worse?

It’s not just me.

Jake sees her. Ethan, too. I’ve watched the way they look at her when they think no one’s paying attention.

It should make me jealous.

It should make me angry.

But it doesn’t. Not exactly.

Instead, what I feel is this sharp twist in my gut—possessive, yes, but not selfish. Not in the way Nick was.

I don’t want to keep her for myself. I don’t want to lose her. I want to be part of her world, not her whole world.

I try to shove it down—the anger, the possessiveness, the guilt for even letting myself think about her this way when it’s only been a couple months since they broke up.

But it’s no use. The more I try not to feel it, the harder it pulls.

I sit back against the headboard, stare at the ceiling, and let a thought settle heavy and wild in my chest.

What if she didn’t have to choose?

What if she could have us—all of us—without it tearing us apart? Without it ruining our friendship with Nick?

The idea shouldn’t feel right, but God help me, it does.

I let my mind wander—to places I know I shouldn’t go.

To the four of us…together. Me, Jake, and Ethan pleasuring her. Loving her.

My hand drifts absently down my chest, over my stomach, and past the waistband of my sweatpants. I wrap my hand around my length and start to stroke.

I close my eyes and picture her walking through the door right now.

Her silhouette framed in the hallway light, soft and sure.

She crosses the room without hesitation, stops between my knees, and tilts my face up to hers with both hands.

Her touch would be light, almost teasing, but her eyes would burn with her need for me.

“Liam.”

My chest tightens.

I imagine her fingers tugging at my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. Her lips ghosting over mine, not quite kissing me, but drawing out the moment for as long as she can.

I wouldn’t stop her.

I’d let her take her time. Let her lead. Let her feel how much I want her, how long I’ve been holding this back.

The moment she really touched me, though, I know I’d snap. My control would shatter.

I’d grab her and kiss her, pulling her onto my lap and grinding her against my growing erection.

I let out a low groan as I stroke myself faster, and the fantasy shifts. Expands.

It’s no longer just me and Maya. Ethan and Jake are in the room with us as well.

I imagine Jake’s hand tangling in her hair, pulling her back to kiss her throat while I trail my fingers along her thighs. Ethan leans in close, one arm slipping around my waist, and it feels so natural I don’t question it.

We move together like it’s the easiest thing in the world. No jealousy. No competition.

Just heat. Trust. Connection.

Our focus entirely on Maya.

I think about the sound Maya makes when she’s breathless, the way she says my name.

We all fall into bed together, stripping Maya naked. Hands everywhere—stroking, worshiping, discovering. Her body arches under our touch, her breath hitching as Jake kisses down her stomach and Ethan licks at her nipple.

Jake lowers his head between her legs while Ethan and I shower her breasts with attention, kissing and sucking at her nipples until they’re bright pink and perky.

She’s moaning, totally lost to the pleasure we’re giving her.

I groan, jerking my shaft harder and harder, as desperate for release in real life as Maya is in my fantasy.

She whimpers all our names. “Liam, Ethan, Jake! Please!”

I want to give her exactly what she wants. The three of us strip off our clothes as well, and there’s no awkwardness. No hesitancy.

This makes Maya happy. It turns her on, and that’s all that matters to the three of us.

Jake continues licking between her legs and she reaches for Ethan and me. She takes both our shafts in her hands and strokes us.

The fantasy crests and I come hard, breath caught, body shaking. The release is brutal. Final. Like something I’ve been holding back too long.

I don’t remember ever having such an intense release before, and it’s just from a fantasy.

What would the real thing be like?

Life-altering, no doubt.

When I’m done, I lay in bed and fight to catch my breath for several minutes before sitting up. I run a hand down my face, then lean forward, elbows on my knees, trying to steady myself.

I would give her everything. Not just my body. All of it. Every part of me. My heart and soul. Every thought. Every fear.

My breath stutters, sharp and shallow. My fingers curl into the edge of the bed.

The room is still. Quiet. My pulse is still racing.

I press the heels of my hands into my eyes, exhaling hard. She’s in my bloodstream now—no use pretending otherwise.

I don’t just want a piece of her.

I want every version—every laugh, every tear, every wild, unfiltered piece she’s never let anyone else see.

And I want to be one of the men who proves she doesn’t have to choose. Even if it means rewriting what I thought love was supposed to look like.