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“He’s protecting her from us,” Alastair muses. “That would track. We’re kind of damned if we’re too nice to Noor, damned if we’re not. Did you see the shade of lipstick she wore today?”

“I did,” I sigh, pocketing my wallet. “Everything about her is sexy. I caught a glimpse of her charcoal sketch while she was working on it. She got really focused, and Zayn was skating around the rink. He’s picking things up fast.

“Anyway, she’s so freaking talented. It’s no wonder she’s picking up work for her art. I know it’s for her painting, but damn. Seeing the three of us with Zayn come to life on paper is kind of cool.”

“Not just Zayn?” Draven asks.

“Nah, all three of us,” I grin.

“Okay, I gotta go or I’m going to be late. Hopefully she likes walking around this gallery show with me, or we’ll cut out early. N. Z. Rummani has some new pieces in it,” I explain.

“It’s like our one vice,” Alastair groans. “We don’t have fancy cars or any of that shit.”

“Do we still need it?” I ask wistfully. The three of us stalk the different pieces as they go up in galleries, enthralled by the stories each piece seems to tell.

It always helped to settle a piece that we were missing, but Noor is alive, and so is our son. We own two paintings at this time, and they’re all prized possessions. Being able to be fast enough to snag them is difficult, because sometimes private collectors call ahead, and we’re not lucky enough to be on that list.

“I don’t know yet,” Alastair mutters. “Go for us and decide. Every time I look at our wall, even knowing Noor is alive, I find myself feeling too much. Maybe it’s a matter of seeing something we haven’t attached emotions to.”

Nodding, I start to leave, gasping when my back hits the wall instead.

“Did you forget something?” Alastair growls, crashing his lips against mine.

I’m definitely going to be late.

I focus on sharing my air with Alastair, moaning as his tongue glides against mine. His lips are firm, and he takes exactly what he wants. I can see why Noor might be concerned about free will and consent.

The difference is that I want to give him everything. I don’t have anything inside of me that I want to keep for myself. Draven and Alastair have been my reason for breathing and existing for far too long.

I’m willing to extend that courtesy to Noor. I’ll gladly hold my breath until she tells me to stop if that’s what she wants, and I’m very aware of how scary this sounds.

My crazy, destructive thoughts have become all-consuming ones to give Noor anything she wants, in an effort to never hurt her again. I’ve rewired my brain through intense therapy to crawl through the muck to be a simp for her.

I’m perfectly alright with this.

“Love you too,” I mumble, my brain cells scrambled after his kisses.

“Good boy,” he whispers. “Go get your Noor fix.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“We’re all beyond pretending, baby,” he says, pushing me out the door.

“Wait. Phone and keys,” Draven chuckles, rushing after me.

Oh yeah. We rented a car to get to Anaheim later, but I won’t need it for my date. There’s too much to keep track of, and Alastair’s kisses have the same effect as electro convulsive therapy. There’s nothing like the white noise of not having to think of anything for awhile.

“Thanks,” I mumble with a dopey smile.

I make sure to take the stairs down to the lobby to get my brain back on line, taking deep breaths to settle myself. The gallery is around the corner from the hotel, and I use the walk to call Arran.

Draven and Alastair have both checked in with him before their dates to gather any important information they might need, and I could use any help I can get.

“Hello? Hold on a second.” I listen as the phone is pulled slightly away from Arran’s mouth, but I can still hear him. “Zayn, I’ll be right back, okay? We’re going to cut some flowers for your mom before she comes back. I think the kitchen needs them.”

“You’re so nice to her,” Zayn laughs. “You know what she really needs?”

“No, what?” Arran asks.