26. Ayla

26

AYLA

T he front door slams open, reverberating through the house. I close the book I’d been reading and stand up. Raucous laughter and unsteady footsteps follow as Kip, Teller, and Clay stumble inside.

“Ayla!” Kip calls out, his voice jovial and slightly slurred. “We’re home!”

Clay and Teller echo his greeting, their voices overlapping in a happy, drunken chorus. I can’t help but smile, shaking my head at their antics. They’re drunk. The sight of them, disheveled and grinning, sends a flutter through my chest.

“Shh, keep it down,” I chide gently, amusement lacing my tone. “I just got Piper to sleep. You’ll wake her.”

Kip’s blue eyes sparkle as he looks at me, a lopsided grin on his face. “Sorry, gorgeous. We’ll be quiet. Promise.”

Teller nods, his dark hair falling into his eyes. He sways slightly, steadying himself against the wall. “How was your night?” His words are careful, measured, even in his inebriated state.

I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms. “Uneventful. Just the usual bedtime battles with the baby.” My gaze flicks between them. “Looks like you three had quite the evening though.”

Clay chuckles, running a hand through his short hair. “You could say that. The bar was packed. Kip here decided to challenge some frat boys to a drinking contest.”

“And I won!” Kip declares proudly, puffing out his chest. “Those lightweights didn’t stand a chance.”

I roll my eyes, but a smile tugs at my lips. “Well, I’m glad you had fun,” I say, pushing off the doorframe.

Clay grimaces, pressing a hand to his stomach. “I don’t feel so good,” he mutters, his words slightly slurred. He leans heavily against the wall, his face pale in the dim light.

Teller nods in agreement, his eyes glazed. “Me neither. I think I’m gonna be sick.”

I sigh, shaking my head. “Alright, you two, let’s get you some water and something to settle your stomachs and get you to bed.”

As I guide them towards the kitchen, Kip trails behind, a smug grin on his face. “Amateurs,” he scoffs, his stride steady despite the alcohol in his system. “I could drink them under the table any day.”

I glance over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so? Well, Mr. Invincible, you can help me take care of these two, then.”

Kip’s grin widens, and he gives me a mock salute. “Aye, aye, captain.”

In the kitchen, I fill glasses with water and rummage through the cupboards for some crackers. Clay and Teller slump into chairs at the table, their heads in their hands.

How much did they all drink? Too much.

As I set the glasses and crackers in front of them, Clay looks up at me, his eyes softening. “Thanks, Ayla,” he murmurs, his words heavy with gratitude. “You’re so caring.”

Something in his tone makes my heart flutter, and I feel a blush creeping up my neck. I busy myself with arranging the crackers on a plate, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through my chest.

Kip leans against the counter, watching me with a knowing smile. “She’s pretty amazing, isn’t she?” he says, his voice low and sincere.

“She?”

“You.”

I swallow. “Alright, Kip, let me grab you a chair.” He’s drunker than he let on too.

I go to the living room to grab him a chair but when I turn to go back into the kitchen, Teller is standing in the doorway. “Ayla, wait.” His words are soft, almost hesitant.

I turn to face him, my heart skipping a beat at the intensity in his gaze. “What is it, Teller?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He takes a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he’s about to say. “We’ve been talking about you,” he admits, his eyes searching mine. “All of us.”

My pulse quickens, and I feel a fluttering in my stomach. “What do you mean?” I manage to ask, my mouth suddenly dry.

Teller runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture I’ve come to recognize. “We all care about you, Ayla…want you.” He pauses, as if choosing his next words carefully. “And we’ve realized that we’re all willing to share you.”

The words hang in the air between us, heavy with meaning. I stare at him, my mind racing as I try to process what he’s saying. Share me? What does that even mean?

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. I’m too shocked, too overwhelmed by the implications of his confession.

Teller takes a step closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “I know it’s a lot to take in,” he says softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sends a shiver down my spine. “But we want you to know how we feel.”

I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my chest. I’ve always known that my relationship with these men was special, but I never imagined it could be something more. The thought is both thrilling and terrifying.

“I... I don’t know what to say,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

Teller nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You don’t have to say anything right now…”

With that, he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulls away. I close my eyes, savoring the warmth of his touch, the promise of something more.

When I open them again, Teller is back in the kitchen, plopping back down in his chair.

I take a deep breath and go back into the kitchen, just as Clay’s boisterous laughter echoes through the house. “Remember that time Kip tried to impress that girl at the bar by juggling shot glasses?” he howls, his words slightly slurred.

Kip groans, burying his face in his hands. “Don’t remind me,” he mutters, but I can see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Teller chuckles, shaking his head. “And then he dropped them all, shattering glass everywhere. We got banned from that place for a month!”

The tension in the room dissipates as we all dissolve into laughter, the heaviness of the moment temporarily forgotten.

As the laughter dies down, I notice Clay swaying on his feet, his eyelids drooping. “Alright, I think it’s time for bed,” I announce, moving to his side to steady him.

Kip and Teller nod in agreement, their own exhaustion evident in the slump of their shoulders. I help them up the stairs, one by one, making sure they each make it to their respective rooms.

But as I tuck them in, my mind keeps drifting back to Teller’s words. “We’re all willing to share you,” he had said, and the implications of that statement send a shiver down my spine.

What does that even mean? I wonder my heart racing as I pull the covers over Kip’s sleeping form. Do they all have feelings for me? And if so, how could that possibly work?

I shake my head, trying to push the thoughts aside. It’s late, and I’m exhausted. I can’t deal with this right now.

But as I climb into my own bed, I can’t seem to quiet my mind. Images of Kip, Teller, and Clay swirl through my head, their words echoing in my ears.

And despite my confusion and uncertainty, I can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement at the possibility of what the future might hold.