by Roni Loren
Keats had taken her other hand and laced his fingers with hers. “I’m sorry we let you down and didn’t protect you like we promised.”
She’d shaken her head, wanting to tell them that they hadn’t let her down, that the very reason she hadn’t collapsed into a panic when Phillip had surprised her in her garage when she’d gotten home from running errands was that they’d helped her find her strength again. But she couldn’t get the words out.
“He’s gone now, George,” Keats said softly. “You’re free of him.”
She’d finally cried then, sagging into Colby’s shoulder and squeezing Keats’s hand tight.
When they’d arrived at her house, she’d asked them to come in with her. She hadn’t wanted them facing the crime scene at Colby’s house and . . . she’d needed them there with her. Maybe they’d all needed each other. They’d gone quietly upstairs, showered until the hot water ran cold, and crawled into bed, simply holding each other until sleep finally overtook them.
But the following day had been chaos. The cops had wanted to talk to everyone again to fill in details. Leesha had called to say she was flying in with Georgia’s parents. And all the wheels had started turning without Georgia.
Colby and Keats had left with the promise that they would all talk soon. But with everyone visiting and so much happening, they hadn’t gotten the chance to do more than check in by phone.
But she’d seen carpets being pulled out and furniture being removed and replaced over at Colby’s. She didn’t blame him for not wasting any time removing memories of what had happened there. But part of her had seen it as erasing it all. The bedroom that she’d looked in so many times would be different now. And the people on the other side of the window had been changed in ways that could never be undone. She didn’t know where she fit anymore—if she fit at all.
Leesha certainly had her own ideas. She’d gone into get-Georgia-back-to-Chicago mode as soon as she’d arrived. And Georgia hadn’t protested. Phillip was gone. Her old life was waiting there for her in Chicago. Her house. Her friends. All the things that had once been so familiar and comfortable. But she couldn’t find it in herself to get excited about it.
“I was thinking maybe we should do Christmas dinner at a restaurant this year,” Leesha said, breaking Georgia from her ruminating. “I talked to your mom, and we’re all so excited to get you back home. But no one wants the stress of cooking this year. Not with all that’s going on. I’ve heard that restaurant in the Trump Hotel has a great Christmas menu.”
“That’s fine,” Georgia said, picking a loose thread off the couch.
Leesha paused what she was doing and turned around, hand on her hip, dip in her brow. “What’s wrong? You sound like I suggested a meal of cat eyeballs.”
“Sorry. It’s just hard for me to think about Christmas . . . it’s hard for me to think about Chicago.”
Leesha stared at her for a moment longer, then sighed. She tossed her notepad onto the coffee table and sat in the chair across from Georgia. “Is this about the neighbors?”
Georgia didn’t feel like having this conversation right now.
Leesha shook her head. “Oh, honey, you got attached, didn’t you?”
“Please don’t patronize me,” she said, irritated at her friend’s I-told-you-so tone.
Leesha flicked her dreads away from her face, a dead giveaway that she was trying to hold on to her patience. “I’m not patronizing you, Georgia. I’ve met the guys you got involved with. I get it. They’re good-looking and seem like nice enough men. But you can’t think to really stay here and be in a relationship with two people. I mean, I’m not one to judge what people like to do for fun. And I can see how with everything you’ve been through you needed a wild escape. But I know you.” She leaned forward in the chair. “Before everything went wrong with Phillip, when you dated men, you dated with the purpose of finding a partner—a husband. We both date with that in mind. We’re planners. You want to get married, have a family, do all those milestones we pin on that timeline in our heads. And neither of us is getting any younger. Hopping in bed with two guys is fine when you’re in your twenties and experimenting, but we’re grown-ups now. Come on, you know some three-way isn’t a sustainable relationship. Staying here longer is just going to mean wasting more time and getting your heart broken anyway. You’ve had enough heartbreak, honey. I don’t want to see you go through more.”
Georgia released a long breath, letting go of the retort that had jumped to her lips. She knew that Leesha had nothing but Georgia’s best interests at heart. And her friend wasn’t saying things that were untrue. Georgia had always wanted that neatly planned-out life. She liked the idea of having a relationship like her parents—a long-lasting love and close family. She’d felt safe and loved growing up, and she wanted to create that in her own life. But now when she tried to picture going about finding that, she couldn’t stop thinking about the two men next door.
“Maybe I just need some time to clear my head,” she said lamely.
Leesha’s face brightened with a smile. “Exactly. That’s the best medicine. We’ll get you back home and on your feet, and you’ll see how everything falls back into place.” She stood and came over to hug her. “God, I’ve missed you, girl.”
Georgia swallowed past the knot in her throat and hugged her friend back. She’d missed Leesha, too. But Georgia had a feeling when she got back to Chicago she’d miss something else much more.
Georgia’s phone buzzed from its spot on the coffee table. Leesha straightened and smiled. “Back to work for me.”
Georgia reached for the phone and hit the button to read the text message. One word appeared on the screen: Window?
Her heart leapt. She bit her lip and glanced over at Leesha, but her friend was already back to tagging and marking furniture. Georgia typed back OK and excused herself on the pretense of getting something from her bedroom. Her mind was still whirling about what to do, and she dreaded having to say good-bye to Colby and Keats in a few days, but she couldn’t hide from facing them any longer.
When Georgia walked into the guest bedroom, it was a little like stepping back in time. But like all the times before, her heart was pounding and her palms were damp. She didn’t know what she wanted to see on the other side of that curtain. Her head was spinning with so much right now. But she knew, if nothing else, she couldn’t walk away from this invitation.
She moved over to the window and pulled back the curtain. The sun was almost down, and the lights in Colby’s bedroom were glowing. On the other side of the glass, two men stood, waiting for her. They seemed so far away now.
She lifted her phone, expecting it to ring. But instead Colby bent down and came back up with what looked to be big squares of poster board. Keats took the one from the top and held it against the glass.
TOP 10 REASONS CHICAGO SUCKS
Keats dropped the sign and put up another one. Georgia leaned closer to the window, her lips curling upward.
10. IT’S FUCKING COLD
9. PUTTING TOMATOES ON HOT DOGS IS WRONG
She laughed, and Colby handed Keats another sign.
8. NO ONE SAYS “Y’ALL” OR CALLS YOU SUGAR
7. TWO BASEBALL TEAMS—HOW TO DECIDE???
6. THEY DON’T DEEP-FRY EVERYTHING—A TRAGEDY
Georgia smiled wider. Leave it to those two to try to make her laugh right now when she needed it most. Another sign went up.
5. WE WANT YOU TO BE HAPPY
4. AND WE WON’T PRESSURE YOU
She held her breath. Keats dropped the sign, and Colby stepped next to him. They both lifted their white poster boards and pressed them against the glass.
3. BUT THE TWO MEN
2. WHO LOVE YOU
1. ARE HERE.
She stared at the big block lettering, the words blurring when her eyes filled with tears. She pressed her ha
nd to the glass. They did the same.
And for the first time in a week, she didn’t feel numb at all.
She looked at their splayed hands, imagined those fingers linked, hands piled on top of each other. Bodies tangled in bed. Mornings full of laughter and teasing, stolen kisses, and naughty comments. Nights filled with warmth.
All along, she’d never really let herself think past getting back to Chicago. She wouldn’t allow her mind to go there. Any time she’d felt those feelings developing for these two men, she’d drawn it back in—like a border collie herding escapee sheep back into their pen. Don’t get attached, don’t get attached. It had become her mantra. But thinking about the two of them now—Colby with his kind eyes and solid presence, Keats with his cocky humor and giving heart—she knew she hadn’t kept it in check. Those sheep were hopping around in the wild with giddy feelings—hope, affection . . . love. Especially when the guys looked at her like they did. Like they’d love her forever if she’d let them.
They’d become so much more than the silly For a Good Time Call label she’d put in her phone. The thought of leaving them had been tearing her up for weeks. But she still hadn’t let herself consider the possibility of staying. Phillip had been such a looming threat overshadowing every thought of the future.
And beyond that, all this time she’d been looking at returning to her life in Chicago like the brass ring. The sign that she was A-OK again, fixed. But now it felt like an empty victory. When she imagined going back, she didn’t get excited about that fast-paced city life she used to lead. She felt . . . nothing.
So what would happen if she stayed here?
The question had been knocking around in her head the last few days like a Ping-Pong ball gaining momentum.
Was Leesha wrong? Could Georgia build a long-term relationship with Colby and Keats? Let this wonderfully strange, just-for-fun arrangement become something else? Become real and lasting?
The practical part of her brain always said no. How would three people even go about that? But another part of her rebelled against that. And when Leesha had outlined all the reasons why it wasn’t a good idea, Georgia had wanted to go into full debate mode. Who cared if the relationship wouldn’t fit into the mold of what everyone expected her to do? Her mother, who had taught women’s studies at Northwestern since Georgia was a kid, had always raised her to not give in to gender expectations, to make her own way. She could still remember the talks her mother had given her through her teen years. If you don’t want to get married, don’t. A woman doesn’t need a man to have a life. If you want kids, have them. If you don’t, don’t let anyone make you feel guilty about it. You find your own road to happiness, my girl. No one else can tell you what’s right for you.
Back then, Georgia had kind of rolled her eyes at her mother’s rah-rah, you-are-a-strong-independent-woman speeches. Mainly because despite her mother’s opinions, Georgia had always been a traditionalist at heart. She’d wanted the perfect fairy-tale life—Prince Charming in the castle on the hill. But now her mother’s words washed through her, raining water on the seeds Keats and Colby had planted. If she wanted to stay here, she could. She could have whatever kind of life she wanted.
She didn’t need some dusty fairy tale. She could make her own new, shiny one.
She didn’t need to be scared anymore.
She lifted her phone and hit For a Good Time Call.
FORTY-ONE
Colby wasn’t sure what to expect when he opened the door to Georgia a few minutes later. He and Keats had done what they could. They’d bared their feelings. Put it all out there. But even if Georgia loved them back, they were still asking a lot.
Even so, when he opened the door and saw her face, saw that brightness in her eyes, a weight that had been pressing down on him since he’d left her the day after the attack lightened a bit. He’d worried that when everything set in, she might be overwhelmed by it. That old fears would resurface. Or worse, new ones would come up. But he should’ve known better. He’d seen firsthand how unshakable and brave she’d been that night with Phillip. She hadn’t flinched. Their girl was softness built on steel.
Well, not their girl. Not yet.
Keats sidled up next to him, and Colby could feel the nerves vibrating off him. So much for being tough guys. They were goners when it came to this woman. She could knock them down in one swoop.
“Hey, neighbor,” Colby said, keeping his tone neutral in case she was coming over here to give them the big send-off.
“Hey,” she said, and glanced down at her feet like a nervous teenager.
He shifted his stance. “How’s the packing going?”
She smirked. “Leesha has tackled it like a sergeant implementing a military operation. I am a mere soldier in her plan.”
“You can hide over here for a while,” Keats offered. “We promise we won’t tell.”
She smiled then. “I am kind of sneaking over here. She doesn’t approve of you two hoodlums who are trying to persuade her friend not to go home.”
“We are, indeed, selfish, selfish hoodlums,” Colby agreed. “But we couldn’t let you go without telling you how we feel. Even if you’re still going to Chicago, we needed you to hear the truth.”
Georgia wet her lips. “Well, at least now I know your feelings on hot dog toppings. Tomatoes on hot dogs are awesome, by the way.”
Colby laughed, the unexpected comment breaking some of the tension.
“Sorry, George, I have to take a stand on that one. No tomatoes. Or that electric green stuff they put on there.”
She looked to Keats. “Ever tried it?”
“Don’t need to. I know I wouldn’t like it.”
She gave him a sly smile. “I bet I can convince you otherwise.”
Colby tucked his hands in his pockets, fighting the urge to reach out and drag her against him. “Coming over here to cook Chicago dogs for us, then?”
“No,” she stepped inside. “I was hoping I could buy you the real thing.”
Colby’s brows went up.
“How does Christmas in Chicago sound?” she asked, her tone tentative.
“What do you mean?” Keats asked. Colby was wondering the same thing. Was she inviting them up there for an extended good-bye?
She took a deep breath and released it. “You guys stepped out on a limb for me, and I know that wasn’t easy. So I came over here to tell you both the truth as well.”
Colby braced himself.
“I love Chicago. The city. The culture. The food. I love being close to my family. And I have friends there I miss.”
Colby’s heart was pounding, pounding, pounding. Oh, shit. Maybe she had come over to let them down easy.
She reached out to take both of their hands. “But it’s got one glaring negative that I can’t seem to get past.”
“Yeah?” Colby asked hopefully. “What’s that?”
“The two people I’ve fallen in love with won’t be there with me.”
“George,” Keats said, his voice catching.
“I need to go home to see my family for Christmas. I miss them. And with my sister gone, I think we all need to spend the holidays with each other even more. But I’m going to tell them while I’m there that I’ve met someone . . . someones. I’m going to tell them that I’m in love and that Texas is where I need to be. And I want them to meet you two.”
Colby felt like he was going to break open, the flood of joy and relief like a force of nature moving through him.
“You’re going to tell your parents?” Keats asked, not hiding the shock from his voice.
Georgia smiled his way. “My parents want nothing more than for me to be happy. And you two make me happy. I’ve wanted to tell you that for so long. You both totally broke the rules of the fling—making me care about you and shit.”
Colby chuckled. “Neither of us has ever bee
n very good with rules.”
She squeezed their hands. “I won’t try to predict where this is going. And I know people are going to say we’re crazy. And maybe we are. Maybe that’s okay.”
“It is okay. We can be crazy together,” Colby said, pulling her against him, everything loosening inside him at once.
She gazed up at him, the love in those big brown eyes taking his breath away. “I can’t stand having the windowpanes between us. I wouldn’t survive a thousand miles.”
Keats moved behind her and slid his hands to her waist, pressing his forehead to her shoulder. “God, George, we’ve missed you so much.”
She smiled up at Colby and looped her hand around Keats’s neck. “I’m all yours. No expiration date this time.”
The words soaked into Colby’s soul and lit him up inside. The two people he loved were his now. For good. “We’re all yours right back, gorgeous.”
His hands moved to her face, and he did the thing he’d been wanting to do for so long. He kissed her with everything he had, finally not having to worry that he would scare her away or that she’d slip through his fingers.
This time he had the real thing. Georgia. Keats.
Love.
He didn’t need to take a snapshot. There’d be albums of happy moments to come. Starting now.
He shut the door behind them and locked the world out.
He had everything he needed right here.
EPILOGUE
Spring
Georgia adjusted her position in the booth and Colby put his arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer, as they watched Keats practice his song onstage. The small club was empty except for a few employees milling around since the doors didn’t open for another hour or so, and she and Colby were tucked away in the corner, trying not to make Keats even more nervous by being front and center.
Pike, Keats’s new boss and self-designated mentor, was climbing onstage to give Keats some advice. Keats had been right. That Pike guy bled rock star when you looked at him—bleached hair, eyes that seemed to always be laughing at some private joke, and a smile that promised he could show you things that could turn you inside out. But he also seemed supremely down to earth and laid-back. A live-and-let-live kind of guy.