Chapter 36

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Oliver

Amelia looks so peaceful with her lashes resting on her freckled cheeks.

Grey, Misha, and I stand outside our guest room, watching Morgan rise from the side of the bed and approach us, closing the door behind her.

"She'll be all right," my sister assures us. "I don't think it's a concussion. It will probably be a nasty bump and a headache for a day or two. She's lucky."

Thank fuck.

I nod, relief washing over me as Morgan continues, "I see injuries like this all the time with the people I care for when they fall. Head wounds can look worse than they are. But I hope we find the asshole who did this to her. She seems pretty shaken, understandably. She fell asleep while we were talking. She's exhausted."

"She is," Grey nods, "Who wouldn't be? I hate that we can't call the police."

"And get her into trouble? Not happening." Misha crosses his arms over his chest.

"I agree with him," Morgan says, nodding at Misha but looking at me. "I bet we can do our own digging, and Grey can hack himself into the building's security footage."

"The building's security footage, sure," I mutter, looking down at my feet.

I was never able to lie to her.

Morgan's brow furrows when I look up at her again, but she lets it go. "I noticed some bald spots at the back of her head. I didn't want to say anything, but maybe she should get that checked out by a doctor."

"It's trichotillomania," I explain. "Amelia pulls her hair." I probably shouldn't have given away her secret so quickly, but Morgan knowing it from me is better than her asking Amelia about it.

Morgan's eyes widen, and I can see her reassessing Amelia before shaking her head. Then, she pulls me toward the kitchen, away from the others, as a mischievous glint enters her eyes that I've come to recognize all too well.

"So, how was your date? The Night of the Books was a good idea, right?" she prods.

I can tell she's been dying to ask since she arrived.

When I decided to ask Amelia out, I called Morgan about it. After she asked if I knew about Amelia's feelings for the others, and I told her I did and still wanted to try, she was way too excited for me. My ears heat as I recall the evening, and I feel as if our first kiss was way longer than just a few hours ago.

"We kissed," I admit, the words barely more than a breath. "And… I told her I love her."

Morgan grabs my upper arms, hops up and down, and squeals loudly. Her reaction is so exuberant that I quickly clap my hand over her mouth, glancing nervously at the others who went to sit on the couch.

"Sorry," she whispers, grinning from ear to ear when I remove my hand. "I'm proud of you, Casanova. Look at you, making moves and professing your love. Who would've thought?"

"Morgy…" I sigh.

"All right, all right. But this conversation isn't over yet. I'm very happy for you, little brother." She flicks my nose and turns to the others, her eyes still twinkling with excitement. "Goodnight, everyone," she says, heading to the door.

"Night," comes from Misha and Grey from the couch.

"And thanks for coming this late," I add.

I can tell she's bursting to ask more questions, but thankfully, she's holding back for now. As the door closes behind her, I can't help but smile, grateful for her.

Now that I know that Amelia is mostly fine, safe, and asleep, I have to have this conversation that has been stuck in the back of my head for the whole evening.

I don't care if it's the middle of the night.

We have to fix this now.

I take a deep breath, my heart racing as I walk over to Grey and Misha. I know what I'm about to say might change everything.

For better or for worse.

"Guys, I've been thinking," I start quietly. "About Amelia."

Grey's eyes snap to mine, his expression guarded. "What about her?"

I swallow hard and then force the words out somewhat awkwardly. "On our date, she asked if the car was mine. I told her we share everything. And then it hit me… what if we could share her too?"

Silence falls over the room. Misha's eyebrows shoot up while Grey shows no outward reaction at all.

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Misha asks, his voice unusually serious .

I nod, my ears burning. "We all love her. She's into all of us. What if… what if we don't make her choose?"

"Insanity," Grey mutters.

"Why?" I challenge, surprising myself with my boldness. "We're family. We love each other like brothers. And we all want her. I don't want to lose any of you over this."

"You've never had a relationship before. You have no idea what you're talking about," Grey grunts out, and it stings a little, but I won't let my insecurities keep us back from what is good for her any longer.

Good for us.

Misha leans forward, his elbows on his knees. "It's not that simple, Ollie. Relationships are complicated enough with two people, let alone four."

"Maybe that's a good thing. Think about it. I lack in the relationship department, and you guys can help out and fill in the gaps I can't. You, Grey, are impatient. So when she needs someone who is patient with her, I can be there. We both don't like adventures too much, but when she's up for one, Misha can take her. We all have our weaknesses, but we balance them out, each contributing our own strengths. Making her as happy as humanly possible together."

Misha rubs his forehead. "You say this as if it would be easy and logical."

"I know it's not simple," I admit. "But isn't it worth trying? For her? For us?"

Misha runs a hand through his hair, conflicted. "Man, that's… that's a lot to process."

"Yes, it sounds crazy," I admit. "But think about it. We already share everything else. It comes naturally to us. So, why not… why not her?"

Grey stands up abruptly, pacing the room. "This isn't like sharing a car or an apartment, Oliver. We're talking about a person. The person. "

"I know," I say quietly. "But wouldn't it be better than forcing her to choose? Than risking our friendship?"

Misha leans back, his expression thoughtful. "It's… not unheard of. Polyamory exists."

"For fuck's sake." Grey stops pacing, his eyes meeting mine. "And what about Amelia? Have you considered what she might want? That she might not want to have a relationship with three men?"

I nod vigorously. "Of course. That's why I think we should propose it to her. Let her decide."

Silence falls again as we all consider the implications. It's Misha who breaks it. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but… I'm not entirely opposed to the idea," he says slowly. "I mean, if everyone's on board…"

Grey runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. "This is crazy. We can't just… but…" He trails off, conflict clear in his eyes.

"We all want what's best for her," I murmur. "And maybe this could be it."

"Madness," Grey mutters, rubbing his temples. "But… I can't deny the logic. I don't want to lose any of you either. But we'd need rules. Boundaries. We'd have to be completely honest with each other and with her."

I feel a surge of hope.

They're not dismissing the idea outright.

"Exactly. We'd treat her with respect, make sure she's comfortable with everything. No jealousy, no competition between us."

"And what if she only wants one of us?" Misha asks, his voice guarded.

The question sends a pang through my chest, but I force myself to consider it. "Then we stay friends, stay family."

Misha's face breaks into a grin. "Fine, I'm in. If she's up for it, I mean. God knows I love that girl, and I love you idiots too. So… are we really doing this? Proposing this to Amelia?"

I nod, my heart pounding. "I think… I think we should try."

Grey and Misha exchange a look, then slowly nod in agreement.

"All right," Grey says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Let's… let's give it a shot."

Never before was I prouder after a debugging session.

Grey heads to the guest room, his footsteps echoing in the tense silence.

When he returns, he's holding Amelia's phone, and my brow furrows in confusion. "What are you doing?"

Grey's face is set in determination, his jaw clenched tight. "Installing a tracker on her phone," he states matter-of-factly, his fingers already moving across the screen.

Misha's eyes widen, and he lets out a disbelieving chuckle. "That's a bit extreme, don't you think?"

Grey's jaw clenches even tighter if that's possible. "This could've ended very differently if they'd decided to take her, too, not just her work," he growls out.

Fuck, I hadn't even thought of that.

We fall silent, and I feel my blood run cold at the thought of Amelia being gone. The image of her scared and alone flashes through my mind, and my heart races as I consider the possibilities, each one worse than the last.

"Fine," I concede after a moment. "But just install an app she can uninstall herself. At least give her some feeling of control. We'll tell her about it tomorrow."

Grey shakes his head, his fingers pausing on the screen. "I'll add it to her GPS. It'll be harder to detect or remove," he argues, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that makes me want to look away.

Misha steps in. "That's too invasive. We might have overstepped a few lines, but we need to get her consent first. Do you want to lose her over this? She was already suspicious of us being there earlier."

I watch as the fight seems to drain out of Grey. He nods, relenting. "All right, I'll put on an app. I'll talk to her about it tomorrow," he agrees, his voice tinged with reluctance.

"Should we stay home with her on Monday?" Misha asks, glancing toward the bedroom where Amelia sleeps. "I mean, we're here tomorrow, but I guess she can't go to work like that at least for a day or two."

I shake my head, trying to think logically despite the fear gnawing at my insides. "It's probably better if just one stays and the rest go to work. We don't want to bring too much attention to us and her if someone's figured out something's happening around Amelia."

The words taste bitter in my mouth, but I know it's the right call.

They nod in agreement, and Grey speaks up, his voice leaving no room for argument, "I'll stay with her."

As he says it, I can see the determination return to his eyes, and I know he'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.