Served: A Holiday Menage Romance by Helene Gadot

Author:Helene Gadot [Gadot, Helene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: menage, romance
Publisher: Helene Gadot
Published: 2019-12-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

First, I decide to take a peek through Liam’s drawers, but they’re all boring —- papers and files I don’t care about.

Until I open the bottom drawer.

Where I find a framed picture of us with Jake. It’s not the same one Jake has in the room he’s been sleeping in. This one is a bit more current, after our time in the service. It was taken at one of the team building exercises we put together. That time was paintball. The three of us were splattered with paint and I was back in my usual spot between them, laughing up at Liam while Jake looks over at us with happy affection.

Shit.

Why does Liam have this? And why does this photo make it look like Liam and I are the ones in love? I’ve never seen this picture. I still have a few in storage of the day, but Liam must have scooped this up before I saw it. Why?

And why was it in his desk?

I all but run from his office, feeling weird about being in there after what I found. Curious about what they did with my old office, I turn right and head two doors down.

My hand on the knob, I pause a second, unsure what I want to find.

I suck in a sharp breath and push inside, my jaw gaping when I see everything exactly how I left it, just the personal effects I’d packed up gone.

It wasn’t even dusty and stale like it had been locked up and ignored. But clearly no one was actively using it as an office. It ’s more like it’s ready and waiting for my return.

So weird.

I somehow have more questions after a day dealing with them than I did after everything fell apart.

Now I’m back to wanting to have the stupid conversation.

I can’t believe I’m letting them fuck with my head like this again. I was finally mostly stable and doing okay. Maybe not living the dream, but I was starting to figure things out.

Sort of.

I no longer started to call one of them when I heard something funny or infuriating. I no longer reached across the bed for a warm body next to mine. I no longer looked through old photos and mementos on the nights I had a little too much to drink and cried.

There’s no way I can afford to go back to that.

If listening to them explain or whatever gives me the answers I need to close this chapter of my life, then I’m going to let them.

I just hope whatever they have to tell me doesn’t destroy me.

My phone dings, alerting me there’s been a match on the facial recognition program.

All my man drama is going to have to wait.

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