Page 45 of Shared by my Ex’s Best Friends (Twisted Desires #2)

Chapter forty-four

MAYA

The room is quiet. The kind of soft, weighted quiet that only comes long after midnight, when even the streetlights seem to dim out of respect for the dark.

Outside, the world is still. No cars. No dogs barking. Just the muted tick of the old clock on the nightstand and the rhythmic whisper of breath.

A ceiling fan spins in slow, drowsy circles above us, stirring the air just enough to keep the heat from settling too heavy on our skin.

The curtains are only half-closed, and through the gap, moonlight spills in—soft silver light that stretches in stripes across the floorboards and over the edge of the bed, shading everything in pale blue hues and the shadowed warmth of night.

Liam’s watch glints quietly from its resting place beside a half-full water glass on the dresser, catching a flicker of moonlight as if it, too, is waiting.

The bed is a tangle of limbs and warmth. No clean lines or right angles, just us, woven together in the kind of mess that feels sacred.

Sheets kicked low. A bare knee against a calf. A palm resting just under someone’s rib cage.

There’s a closeness that feels stitched into the very air we’re breathing. Like gravity has decided we belong in this exact formation and is hell-bent on keeping it that way.

My head rests against Jake’s shoulder, the firm, familiar weight of him fortifying me. His skin is warm, still flushed from earlier. His leg is hooked over mine possessively, even in sleep.

The arm draped across my stomach rises and falls with each breath, fingers twitching faintly, like whatever dream he’s having hasn’t quite settled.

Ethan is curled against my other side, his forehead barely brushing my collarbone, his breath soft and steady.

One hand is wrapped around my forearm, his thumb moving in the slowest circle, like he doesn’t know he’s doing it. Like letting go, even in unconsciousness, isn’t an option.

And behind me, Liam is solid and quiet, pressed close against my back. One arm cradled beneath my neck, the other curved low around my waist, his palm resting right at the slope of my hip like it belongs there.

His chest moves in a slow rhythm against my spine, anchoring me. Holding me.

Outside, a breeze lifts through the trees, brushing the windowpanes with a sound like hush. The lavender scent from the pillowcase rises again as I shift slightly, head turning just enough to feel the whisper of Jake’s hair against my temple.

For a long stretch of heartbeats, none of us speak. There’s no need to.

But inside me, something is moving. Restless. Bright. Ready.

My heart is thudding gently beneath the stillness, a rhythm that doesn’t match the others. Not quite. And I know what it means.

I breathe in deep. The scent of them is all around me—shampoo and skin, the barest hint of aftershave, the faint trace of Jake’s cologne. Home.

Then, softly, so softly I’m not even sure the words make it past my lips, I say, “I love you.”

The words slip into the darkness like stones into deep water. They ripple outward, touching all three of them.

Jake stills beside me. I feel it first in his chest. How his breath catches. Then in his fingers, which tighten faintly where they rest above my stomach.

Ethan exhales, sharp and sudden, like I knocked the wind from him. His hand tightens around my arm, and he shifts just enough to press closer, nose brushing against my skin.

“Say it again,” he whispers, not even lifting his head.

“I love you. All of you.”

For a moment, the only answer is silence.

Liam’s fingers curl slightly deeper into my hip. He still hasn’t moved otherwise, but I feel it—the way he’s here , absolutely present.

The way those words landed in his chest and stayed there.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks,” I say again, voice steadier now, clearer, like it belongs in this quiet space. “I don’t care if the world doesn’t understand it, or if we can never stand in front of some judge and make it official. What we have… it’s real. And it’s enough for me.”

Then Liam moves.

Not abruptly. There’s no rush, no suddenness. Just the kind of motion that speaks of intention. His chest stays pressed against my back as his hand slides from my hip, curving gently around my waist.

When his hand finds mine, he doesn’t say anything. Not at first.

He simply laces our fingers together, his grip sure, and begins to guide our joined hands downward until they settle over the soft swell of my belly.

My breath catches. So does his.

“You’re ours,” he says. His voice breaks on the second word, and I feel it—a shiver in his chest, a tremor against my spine. “And so is this baby.”

The room doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe.

Outside, the night is thick with quiet. Trees shift lazily in the breeze, their branches dropping faint shadows across the walls as the curtains sway, whispering against the window frame like the house is listening.

The silver moonlight has shifted slightly, spilling lower across the bed, brushing over the dip of the sheets and the curve of Jake’s hip. The warm copper glint of Liam’s watch on the nightstand flickers as it catches the new angle of light.

My throat tightens instantly. The sensation blooms like a wave, spreading from my chest to my fingertips. I press my palm more firmly against my stomach, feeling the echo of Liam’s hand over mine.

It’s too soon to feel movement, but still, I swear there’s something. A flutter. A spark.

A beginning.

Jake’s hand slides gently over the back of mine. His fingers thread through the gaps Liam left, slow and intentional, like every inch of contact is a promise.

His skin is rough in places, callused, but his touch? Gentle. Devotional. He squeezes my hand softly.

“We don’t need rings,” he murmurs.

I turn my head slightly, just enough to feel the brush of Ethan leaning in behind me. His presence has always been quiet but constant.

Now, I feel his nose nudge against my shoulder before his lips find the skin there. His kiss is soft. Certain.

And when he speaks, it’s with a breath that sets my pulse racing.

“We just need you,” he whispers.

That’s what undoes me.

Tears well before I can stop them—hot and slow, tracking silently down my cheeks to pool in the pillow beneath me.

Not from sorrow. Not from fear. But from feeling too much —from the way they hold me, the way their hands and voices and hearts press into mine.

How deeply they love me.

How deeply I love them back.

I draw in a shaky breath, my voice catching on the edge of it as I speak.

“Forever?”

Jake answers first, voice firm but soft, like he’s been waiting to say this his whole life. “All in.”

Liam’s lips brush the back of my neck, the kiss more breath than touch. “Always,” he murmurs, his arm tightening around my waist.

And Ethan—still curled against me, still holding my hand like it might shatter if he lets go—leans closer, his voice steady and fierce and full.

“You’ll never be alone again.”

That’s it.

That’s everything.

I close my eyes and let it wash over me. Their words, their warmth, the weight of the sheets and the scent of all of us tangled together.

The ceiling fan creaks softly overhead, and somewhere in the house, the floorboards settle with a quiet sigh.

Jake’s thumb strokes slow circles over my knuckles. Ethan breathes in sync with me, our chests rising and falling in unison. Liam’s hold around me feels like a shield.

For the first time in my life, I don’t feel like I have to hide.

Not the jagged edges. . Not the wild, quiet longing that’s lived inside me for so long it’s almost grown roots.

Not even.

Because they see me. All of me.

And they want to stay.

Tears gather again—not hot and sharp like they used to be. These are softer. A tide rising gently at the edges of my heart, tender and healing.

I don’t fight them. I let them come, silent and salt-sweet, soaking into the pillow beneath me.

Jake shifts beside me, rising onto one elbow. In the low light, I see the sleep still clinging to his lashes, the lines of his face softened.

Moonlight paints a silver line across the arch of his cheekbone and disappears in the curve of his mouth. His gaze finds mine—steady, unflinching.

“No matter what. No matter who doesn’t get it. No matter how weird or messy or different this looks from the outside. You’re not alone in this.”

I try to speak, but my throat locks up. All I can do is nod, the tears coming harder now. Quiet but unstoppable.

Liam presses closer, his lips brushing against the bare skin of my shoulder, warm and reverent. His voice is a breath against me.

“You don’t ever have to wonder if we’re with you,” he murmurs. “You’re it, Maya. You’re everything.”

His hand flexes slightly against my stomach like he’s making a vow right into my skin.

Then Ethan, ever my soft place to land, leans in closer, brushing his hand up from my hip, along my side, until it finds Liam’s. They both rest there, together, layered over our child like a promise.

“You’re the heart of this,” he whispers, and the words hit like thunder. “The center. Everything else falls into place around you.”

A sob slips out of me—just one. But it cracks the silence wide open. It’s not broken, though. Not sharp.

It’s release.

Jake reacts immediately, pulling me closer, tucking me into his chest like I’m something he can shield from everything, even my own doubts. He presses his forehead to mine, his palm warm against the back of my head.

“You okay?” he whispers, his breath mingling with mine.

I laugh, a half-sound that’s more feeling than voice. I nod into his touch, tears slipping down into the corner of my mouth.

“Better than okay,” I manage. “I just… I’ve never had this before. Never felt this wanted. This… safe.”

Liam murmurs against my back, his lips trailing down my spine in a line of heat.

“You are,” he says simply. “Every day. Every version of you. Even the ones you haven’t met yet.”

Ethan kisses my cheek, soft and sure. His voice is velvet in the dark. “Always will be.”

I close my eyes and let it all settle in.

Their words. Their hands. The rhythm of their breath.

The press of their love—unwavering, unflinching, wrapped around me like the night itself.

They don’t look at me like I’m a puzzle they’re trying to solve. They don’t flinch from the weight of my love, or the shape of my truth.

They don’t tolerate me. They choose me.

And for the first time in my life… I believe I deserve it.

This isn’t a dream I’ll wake from in an empty bed. This isn’t a secret I’ll have to bury in shame or shadow.

This is real.

This is ours .

And it’s everything.