Chapter 18

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

River

It’s early Sunday afternoon, and it seems like we made it just in time for the start of the football game. We make our way through the crowded arena to get to our seats, the guys leading the way, while Liv is behind me with Chris and Gunner.

Jaxon paid for all our tickets at the entrance, and I watched as Liv got on her toes to kiss him before whispering a grateful, “Thank you, sir.” I’m not really into their power dynamic, but I can admit it’s kind of hot seeing them play like that.

As we get closer to our seats, I feel more and more anxious from the loud noises and the throngs of people around us. I get pushed to the side and shudder, but then I feel a small hand take mine. I look back and see Liv smiling up at me, squeezing my fingers. Instantly, I feel a bit more relaxed and guide her towards the others, who’ve already taken their seats.

Liv sits beside me, with Chris and Gunner on her other side. Ryder is seated next to me, followed by Chase and Jaxon. As the noise and chaos of the crowd start to build, I can feel my anxiety increasing, so I take a deep breath.

“We’re good,” Liv says, leaning toward me. “We’re sitting here in our little bubble between our friends. Nothing’s going to happen. When it gets too much, we’ll just head out and get ourselves some corn dogs.” She squeezes my knee gently, and I peck her lips.

Until I found her, only Ryder had the power to calm me down in such situations, but she’s even better at it. Her hand rests on my knee, the touch light and thoughtful, not moving or giving me more to process while still showing support and grounding me. I love her so damn much.

The game begins, and Liv bursts into laughter.

“I have no clue what’s happening down there,” she says.

“You’ve never been to a football game?” Chase asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope, I’ve only been to a hockey game once,” she responds, a smile spreading across her face.

“Figures,” Ryder says with a chuckle.

Liv sticks her tongue out at him, and in a playful gesture, he leans over me and quickly bites at it. She chuckles, but he pulls her closer, kissing her deeply.

“Boo, not that again!” Chris says with a pout.

“I kiss my girl whenever I want to, Sissi,” Ryder retorts, flipping her off.

Chase stands and takes hold of Liv’s arm before pulling her to him and onto his lap. He plants a kiss on her shoulder.

“Our girl,” he says before moving in to kiss her on the lips. She smiles at him, but her expression turns to surprise when Jaxon lifts her out of Chase’s lap and places her onto his own.

“Don’t you want me to feel included too?” he asks, nuzzling her throat.

Jaxon kisses her, their kiss even longer than both Ryder’s and Chase’s combined. I look around and see some people sitting behind us watching, but before I can nudge Ryder, Liv breaks the kiss.

“Yes, sir,” she says, then she stands up to return to my side. “Are you feeling overwhelmed?” she asks, leaning into me.

“No, right now I feel good,” I answer truthfully.

“Great, then I can do this,” she says with a smile. Without hesitation, she leans in and kisses me too. I smile into the kiss, appreciating her effort to ensure that we all feel acknowledged and together in this moment.

“Do you see now? I told you we should have gotten seats farther away,” Chris complains to Gunner.

“I distinctly remember a time when you told me to just go for it,” Liv says with a chuckle.

“I was young and foolish back then,” Chris admits.

Her teasing brings a smile to my face, and I glance over at her. It’s clear she’s just playing around, but when I shift my gaze to Gunner, I notice his furrowed brows and thoughtful expression. What’s his problem?

* * *

Liv

During halftime, I need to go to the bathroom. As I survey the crowd of people making their way towards food stalls or toilets, nervousness sets in.

“I have to pee,” I confess, glancing at Chris.

“You should’ve gone before,” she says with a chuckle. “Can you wait a little longer?”

The thought of holding it makes me wince, but so do the many people squeezing down the stairs. Just as I start to worry, Gunner stands up.

“I’ll take you,” he offers.

“I can take her,” Jaxon says, also standing up.

“It’s no problem. Escorting important people to the restroom in crowded places is part of my job,” Gunner states.

“I am important,” I quip, smiling at Jaxon.

“Never said you weren’t,” Jaxon says with a huff and sits back down.

Gunner steps into the aisle, waiting for me to join him before he nudges me to lead the way. I glance back and notice how he keeps a vigilant eye on our surroundings, ensuring my safety, and I smile to myself. I have my own private bodyguard.

After using the restroom and finally feeling relieved, I find Gunner waiting for me outside.

“Want to grab something to eat for your ‘boyfriends’?” he asks, giving me a wry smile. He emphasizes the word ‘boyfriends’ in a peculiar way, and I notice that his mood seems off.

“What’s wrong? Are you mad at me?” I ask, concerned.

“I’m never mad at you,” he says, letting out a huff.

“Then what’s the problem, Gun?” I press further. “I don’t understand why you’re being so grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy,” he denies, crossing his arms over his chest. As people squeeze through the crowded space, pushing me closer to him, he instinctively turns us so that I’m standing near the wall while he shields me with his body.

“Then why are you acting like a grump?” I ask, frustrated with him. He lets his arms fall to his side, his expression filled with concern.

“I don’t like how they’re treating you,” he admits, and I’m taken aback by his statement.

“Treating me?” I ask. “Gunner, were you even paying attention for the past two hours? They treat me like I’m precious, like they love me.”

“That’s not love,” he says, furrowing his brows, his tone resolute. “They may say it, but that’s not how you treat someone you love.”

“Trust me, I know what it feels like when the person who claims to love you treats you like garbage,” I say, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. He gazes at me intently, tilting his head. “They’ve been nothing but good to me. What are you talking about?”

“You really don’t see it, do you?” he asks, huffing once more. “The way they pass you around from one to another in public, they make you look like a prostitute.”

His words hit me like a slap in the face, and I feel a mix of anger and hurt welling up inside me.

“Are you telling me you think I’m a whore for being with them?” I ask, but Gunner shakes his head.

“No, Livy, that’s not what I meant,” he replies, his voice earnest.

“But it is, isn’t it?” I retort, my voice filled with frustration. “You’ve been against this relationship from the beginning, but you’ve never expressed it so harshly before.”

“You don’t see it!” he exclaims, starting to yell. “They’re treating you like some sort of object, passing you around! It’s not you, it’s them!”

“You don’t understand!” I shout right back. “They make me feel valued, desired, and respected. It’s not about being passed around. It’s about our connection.”

“It looks like they’re treating you like a commodity!” he says, shaking his head. “It’s not right, Livy.”

“You’re being judgmental!” I say with a huff. “You’ve never given them a chance. You’re letting your opinion about them cloud your judgment.”

He steps closer to me, making me step back against the wall, then lifts his hand to caress my cheek.

“I just care about you. I want you to be with someone who truly respects and cherishes you,” he says, his grey eyes softening again, but I’m still agitated.

“And I believe I’m with four someone’s who do just that. You’re not seeing the love and care they have for me,” I reply, my eyes filling with tears of frustration. Gunner lets his hand fall and takes a step back, realizing the impact of his words. His initial anger subsides, replaced by a genuine sense of remorse.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you like that. I’m just scared and don’t want you to get hurt,” he says, his gaze never leaving my eyes. I exhale a long breath, trying to get calm.

“I appreciate your concern, but I need you to finally trust me—trust my judgment and my feelings. I deserve to make my own choices, even if they’re different from what you think is best.” His features soften, and he nods, acknowledging my plea.

“I apologize for overstepping, again,” he says.

“Thank you. I know we don’t always see eye to eye on this, but I—” I start, but he stops me by flicking my nose.

“That’s because you’re too short to do so,” he says, and I can’t help but laugh. He smiles before taking my hand and leading me back to our seats.