Page 31 of Shared by my Ex’s Best Friends (Twisted Desires #2)

Chapter thirty-one

LIAM

T he room is quiet now.

Not the kind of silence that feels empty, but the kind that settles in after something real. Like the hush after a storm, when everything is still damp and raw and somehow more alive.

The fan hums softly overhead. Outside, the wind rustles through the trees, whispering against the windows.

But in here, it’s nothing but the quiet, rhythmic sound of our breathing. Our bodies—bare, tangled, spent—lie draped across the bed like we’ve been stitched together.

Maya’s curled between us, her head rising and falling on Ethan’s chest and one of her legs draped across mine.

Jake’s stretched out at the edge of the mattress, his arm thrown over his eyes like the world’s too much to process right now. Honestly, same.

The sheets are twisted and warm beneath us, the air thick with the smell of skin and lavender and something heavier, sweeter. The ghost of something sacred.

I don’t think any of us fully understand what just happened.

I don’t think we need to.

Maya shifts a little, and her fingers inch across the bed until they find mine beneath the blanket. It’s not urgent. It’s just… seeking.

Steady. Needing reassurance.

I curl my fingers around hers and squeeze gently. Just enough to say I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

The way she always seems to do for me without even trying.

Then she speaks, her voice small and hesitant, like she’s afraid saying it aloud might unravel whatever fragile magic we’ve built tonight.

“How is this supposed to work?”

Ethan lifts his head slightly, his hand still resting in her hair. “What do you mean?”

His voice is calm, as always, but there’s a note of alertness beneath it. Like he’s bracing for the ache we all knew might follow this.

Maya pushes herself up on one elbow, just enough to look at all of us in turn. Her eyes are a little glassy. Not from tears, but from worry .

“This. Us.” Her voice wavers. “I don’t want to lose any of you. But this isn’t exactly… normal. People don’t do this. Not really. So how do we even begin to make it work?”

Jake shifts beside her, pushing up on one elbow, and for once there’s no smirk, no offhand joke waiting behind his eyes. Just something serious and surprisingly vulnerable.

He studies her, then says, “We don’t have a damn clue.”

That makes her smile, barely. “That’s not comforting.”

He shrugs one shoulder. “It’s honest, but not knowing doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

Ethan lets out a soft breath, brushing his thumb across her temple. “It’s not like we planned this. We didn’t set out to end up here, but I can’t pretend it’s not real.”

I sit up a little, propping myself against the headboard, and tug the blanket higher over Maya’s back as she shifts to glance at me next.

Her eyes are searching—like maybe I have the answer, or at least something that won’t make this all feel like it’s slipping away.

I don’t. Not really, but I know what I feel.

“I think,” I start slowly, choosing each word with care because it matters, now more than ever, “we figure it out one day at a time. One conversation at a time. One choice. We didn’t expect this, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make space for it.”

Maya’s brows draw together, her fingers tightening around mine just slightly. “But what if it’s not enough? What if we screw it up?”

I huff out a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “We will screw it up. That’s a guarantee.”

Jake grunts in agreement. “Big screw-ups. Colossal.”

Ethan gives a faint smile. “But screwing up doesn’t mean ending. It just means trying again and figuring out a different way forward.”

Maya goes quiet for a moment, and in the hush, I reach out and brush a bit of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. My hand lingers a second longer than it needs to, fingers grazing her cheekbone.

“

Jake drops his arm from over his eyes and looks at her too, expression softer than I think I’ve ever seen it. “You think I’d let you go now? Not a chance.”

Ethan shifts, pulling her just a little closer into his side. “It’s not about what the world thinks is normal, Maya. It’s about what makes sense to us .”

She swallows, nodding slowly, like maybe that makes something click. Or maybe she’s just trying to let it settle in her chest the way it’s already settled in mine.

Because yeah, this is messy. It’s complicated. There’s no roadmap for four people trying to build something like this, but I’d rather stumble through the dark with them than walk a clear path alone.

Maya lies back down, pressing her cheek to Ethan’s chest, her fingers still tangled in mine, and her other hand reaching for Jake’s wrist.

“We’ll figure it out,” I whisper, more to myself than anyone else, but her answering hum tells me she heard.