Page 150 of Ink Me Three Times
Ivy made me want more. Real. And it terrified the hell out of me.
So I ran my mouth. Suggested the whole harem thing like it was all some kind of sexy adventure. Something casual. Fun. As if I could keep my heart out of it if I just kept the rules flexible enough.
But I couldn’t.
And I don’t survive loss. Not well.
I came up here to clear my head. But all I’ve done is rip it open wider.
Because here’s the truth I can’t run from anymore:
I don’t want to leave.
I don’t want fun or casual or whatever the hell we’ve been pretending this is.
I want her.
We all do. I know it.
And maybe that’s the problem. Maybe it’s been the problem since day one. This thing between us, between her and me, and Tim, and Freddie, it's never been just sex or tension or chemistry. It’s been possibility. Hope. Something none of us knew how to hold without breaking it.
And I broke it first.
I let fear steer the wheel and I crashed the whole damn thing into a wall. And now? I don’t get to fix it all at once. But I can start.
I kick up the stand, swing a leg over the seat, and head back toward town. The wind feels different this time. Not cleansing. Not redemptive. Just honest.
The shop lights are still on when I pull into the lot. Of course they are. Tim’s nothing if not reliable. Steady. Loyal even when he shouldn’t be. I park and kill the engine, heart pounding harder than it did on the curves.
I glance through the windows and take a minute to find life inside. He’s bent under the counter, sleeves rolled up, face set in that careful, neutral expression he uses when he’s trying not to explode.
He hears the door and doesn’t look up, rifling through papers.
“Didn’t expect to see you again today,” he says flatly.
“Yeah, well. I didn’t expect to be such a jackass either, but here we are.”
He finally looks up. Just looks at me for a long beat. No words. Just heat and history and all the mess I left hanging in the air.
“You didn’t deserve that punch,” I say.
Tim stands, slow and deliberate. “I didn’t.”
“I deserved a hell of a lot worse.”
“You did.”
There’s another beat. Tighter this time.
I run a hand through my hair. “I panicked. With Ivy. With you. With this whole thing. I didn’t know how to handle it, so I said something stupid and made it worse.”
His jaw ticks, but he doesn’t interrupt. So I keep going.
“I was trying to pretend it wasn’t serious. That none of this was real. The harem thing, the casual stuff… it was just a way from letting it mean too much.”
“You think it didn’t already?” he asks, voice low. “You think we’re all playing dress up while you sit on the sidelines?”
“No,” I say. “I think I’ve been afraid of being all in. But I am. I just didn’t want to say it out loud because then it could get taken away.”
