21. Bella
21
BELLA
T he rhythmic rise and fall of River's chest lulls me into a deep sleep as he carries me up the stairs. Spent and sated, my limbs feel like melted mozzarella, and I can barely keep my eyes open. The second my head hits the pillow, I'm out like a light.
I wake up to the sun streaming through the window, painting the room in a warm, golden hue. It's a welcome sight after days of being stranded in this winter wonderland. But then, a wave of reality crashes over me.
"Shit," I mutter, my heart sinking. "This means the roads are probably clear enough to get my car out."
And if I can get my car, the responsible thing to do would be to pick up my little nugget, Ginny, and head back to civilization. Back to sanity. Because let's face it, this whole situation—me, holed up in a cabin with three hot guys who are head over heels for me—it's straight out of a steamy romance novel. Not exactly the most stable environment for a kid.
But damn, it's been fun.
My heart aches with a bittersweet longing. I close my eyes, and a vision of my little Ginny floods my mind. Her chubby cheeks, her infectious giggle, the way she calls me "Mama" in her sweet, high-pitched voice. The thought of her fills me with a warmth that melts away the chill of the cabin.
I miss her so much.
But the truth is, I'm not ready to leave this place yet, not ready to let go of this wild, intoxicating adventure. I need more time to figure things out, to explore this newfound freedom, to bask in the attention of these incredible men.
My mind is a jumbled mess of steamy memories and unanswered questions. Maybe a strong cup of coffee will help me sort it all out. As I stretch and yawn, my eyes focus on a figure nestled in the armchair by the bed.
River.
He's breathtaking. His dark hair falls across his forehead, his chiseled features relaxed. I can't help but smile as I remember the feel of his hands on my skin, the taste of his lips. His eyes are closed. It's like he's in some sort of meditative state, completely at peace. Even in stillness, he exudes a raw, magnetic energy. I remember it's what drew me to him in the first place. All those years ago, I thought I was just signing up for a summer fling.
And then, I fell, fell harder than I deemed possible because he made me so happy. I've only felt that kind of happiness a few times in these many years. Having Ginny, and then—last night, with these men. Dear God, this is way too much to process right now.
With a grimace, I shift slightly, the rustle of the sheets breaking the silence. River's eyes snap open, his gaze immediately locking onto mine. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he murmurs, his voice curling around my skin like tendrils of smoke.
"Morning," I reply, my voice still thick with sleep. I stretch, feeling the satisfying crack of joints and muscles, then run a hand through my tousled hair. "How long have you been sitting there?"
"Long enough to appreciate the view," he says with a smirk, his eyes trailing over my skin like a lingering breeze.
I chuckle, shaking my head. "Creepy."
He grins wider. "Endearing, actually."
"I'll give you points for being cute," I reply dryly, propping myself up on my elbows. "So. I didn't expect to see you here when I woke up."
River rises with the grace of a powerful dancer from the armchair. He comes to sit beside me on the bed, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Couldn't leave you alone," he says softly. "Wanted to make sure you were okay."
Of course my breath catches.
"I'm fine," I assure him, a playful smile tugging at my lips. "Just a little sore."
River chuckles, his fingers tracing the curve of my cheek. "I bet you are," he says, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. "You were quite the wildcat last night."
My cheeks flush at the memory. I can still feel the echoes of pleasure coursing through my body. "Speaking of last night," I begin, a hint of curiosity in my voice, "I have to ask…"
River raises an eyebrow, silently urging me to continue.
"You weren't…jealous?" I ask hesitantly. "I mean, I was with someone else, and you just…" I gesture vaguely, unable to find the right words to express my confusion.
River takes my hand in his, his thumb gently stroking my knuckles. "Bella," he says, his voice serious, "I've seen enough darkness and pain in this world. I don't want to add to it."
His words catch me off guard. I've always thought of River as a man who craves intensity, who thrives on passion. But there's a depth to him, a wisdom that I'm only just beginning to understand.
"I want you to be happy," he continues. "I want you to live a life full of joy and freedom. And if that means sharing your love with others, then so be it."
His words are unexpected, but they resonate with me on a deep level. The stage of life where I'm at, I don't think I can survive the confines of a traditional relationship, especially with my main focus being my kid. Freedom and love, together? I thought that was the stuff of fairytales.
Maybe I am dreaming.
"I don't want to cage you, Bella," River says, staring at me with deep eyes. "I want to see you soar."
Okay, this is nuts. Like, squirrel-eating-its-own-tail, cuckoo-bananas, batshit crazy nuts.
This isn't how I pictured my life at thirty. Not even close. A secluded cabin in the woods with three insanely attractive men vying for my attention? Yeah, that wasn't exactly in my five-year plan.
But you know what? It's kind of…exhilarating. Like a roller coaster ride with no brakes, hurtling toward an unknown destination. And I'm not gonna lie, I'm kinda digging it.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. "River," I say, my voice surprisingly steady, "could you round up the guys? We need to have a little chat."
As River heads out to gather Marcus and Wyatt, I hop into the shower, the hot water washing away the remnants of last night's escapades. Standing under the spray, I can't help but sneak a chuckle at the absurdity of it all.
"Who would have thought I'd end up in a real-life soap opera?" I mutter to myself, lathering my hair with shampoo.
After toweling off, I reach for my phone, hoping for a sliver of reception. Thankfully, there's enough for a quick call. I dial my parents' number, a nervous flutter in my stomach.
"Hey, Mom," I say when she picks up. "How's Ginny?"
"Oh, honey, she's wonderful!" my mom exclaims. "She's been asking about you nonstop. Hold on, I'll put her on."
A moment later, Ginny's sweet voice fills my ear. "Mommy! When are you coming home?"
"Soon, sweetie," I reply, my heart doing a happy dance. "I'm just having a little adventure with some friends."
"Are they boys?" Ginny asks, her voice practically dripping with curiosity.
Okay, time to think fast. "Well, some of them might be, but it's really just…"
"They're boys, aren't they?" she interrupts, pure glee in her voice.
I frown at the phone, even though she can't see me. "Are you scowling at me?" she squeaks.
I stifle a giggle. "No, honey. Just…concentrating really hard on my book."
"No, you're not," she shoots back immediately. I can just picture her, hands on hips, brow furrowed like a tiny, determined detective.
"Can I meet them when you get back?" she asks, her voice full of hopeful excitement.
My heart swells, feeling like it's about to burst. I clear my throat and smile through the sudden tears. "Let's see where it goes, okay, sweetie? And if we're asking questions, what time are you going to bed?"
"Okay, Mom, I gotta go," Ginny says quickly, her voice turning all business. "See you soon?"
I laugh, nodding even though she can't see me. "Very soon, sweetheart."
After hanging up with my sweet pea, a wave of relief washes over me like a cold shower on a sweltering day. Knowing Ginny is safe and sound gives me the courage to face the testosterone tornado brewing downstairs.
I throw on a cozy sweater over a T-shirt and a pair of jeans that hug my curves in all the right places. A smile at the mirror and I put my hair up in a neat little ponytail. Then, I'm going down the stairs, my heart threatening to leap out of my chest.
Stepping into the living room feels like entering a lion's den, only these lions are ridiculously good-looking and smell like a mix of leather and cologne. They all look at me the second I enter. Great, now all I need to do is not freak out and run back upstairs.
"Okay, boys," I announce, taking a deep breath. "Time to address the elephant in the room. Or should I say, the three elephants?"
Marcus leans against the center table, snickering slightly. "You mean the fact that we're all head over heels for the hottest author on the planet?"
I roll my eyes, but a smile tugs at my lips. "Something like that, Casanova."
"We don't want to rush you," says Wyatt conversationally. "But we also can't deny the sparks flying around here."
"Sparks?" Marcus interjects. "Honey, this is a full-blown inferno."
I'd laugh, but this is serious stuff. "Look, guys," I say, keeping my voice steady. "This is uncharted territory for me, but I…" And of course, I'm blushing, not like a lady. It’s the kind of blush that's making me turn into a ripe tomato. "I, um?—"
"You're invested," River murmurs quietly. I look askance to find him smiling at me with a lopsided little grin that does unfair things to my brain. "And you want to give this a shot, just like the rest of us."
Good. He's hit the nail on the head, so I don't have to. "Something like that," I mumble, flushing furiously.
"What's happened to your words?" Wyatt teases good-naturedly.
"Oh! I didn't mean…" I flail my arms dramatically. "I don't know what to say. This is all just so unexpected!"
Marcus barks out a laugh and crosses to where I'm standing, pulling me in to steal a brisk kiss. "The best things in life usually are, darlin'. Now that we're all on the same page, mend some hearts in this room and tell us you're staying a while longer?"
God, they're infuriating but deliciously so. I nod slightly. "I am."
A chorus of whoops and hollers erupts.
Marcus wraps his arm around my waist, his touch sending shivers down my spine. "Then let's make this an adventure worth writing about, shall we?"
I surrender, leaning into his embrace with a sigh. Wyatt saunters off and returns with a plate of sandwiches, his eyes glinting with mischief. With a playful grin, I slip out of Marcus's hold and pad over to the kitchen, bringing back a pot of coffee and four mismatched mugs.
River turns on a cozy romance movie, and we crash on or around the sofa. This might be the most thrilling thing that's happened to me in ages, but a strange, deep contentment settles over me as the movie begins to play. The sandwich is perfectly savory, and the coffee packs a punch.
Thirty minutes in, the movie heats up, and the room's atmosphere shifts. Soft chuckles and teasing remarks float around, mingling with the movie's dialogue. The lights are dim, casting a warm, intimate glow over everything.
River is sprawled on the carpeted floor between my legs. He twists around, his gaze locking with mine, desire simmering slow and sure in the depths of his endless green eyes.
I run my fingers through River's hair absentmindedly, feeling the soft strands slip through my fingers. Marcus shifts beside me, his hand brushing against my leg. Wyatt, stretched out on the couch, throws a sly wink my way.
Goosebumps form on the back of my neck and run along the length of my arms.
The movie's plot thickens, but my focus drifts, anchored by the tangible chemistry in the room. River leans his head back against my knee, his eyes never leaving mine, a silent question hanging between us. I smile, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his forehead.
He lifts his head up instead and captures my lips in a kiss.
None of us know what happens in the film next. We're too busy with each other. It's how the morning bleeds into late noon, with food and lovemaking and stories. It's only when I go back upstairs after dinner that night, that I begin to realize something.
Wyatt knows about Ginny. So does Marcus, I think. But the one man who should know has no idea, and I haven't told him. My throat constricts as I sit down on the bed in front of my open laptop. Do I tell him? Will it be too much?
Will I lose him again?
None of that is as important as Ginny being this close to finally meeting her dad. Only, I have this sinking suspicion that none of us may be ready for it. Of course, there has to be a glitch in the plan.