Gabe’s hoodie removal is effective. Even more so when he comes closer, hitting me with soulful eye contact and the smell of sawdust. “If you say yes, I promise not to expect phone calls from you,” he says gruffly, working man’s fingers flexing at his sides. “But I can’t promise I won’t be happy when I get one.”
“Same,” Banks says, his voice an octave lower.
“Make that three,” Tobias sighs.
“We’re not…” I sputter, pressing my back tighter to the door. “This is not a negotiation of terms. I’m saying no. Hell no, actually.” My rapidly dampening underwear is calling me a liar, but I ignore the barb. “Are none of you going to address that I lied to you about being a reporter? No one is going to point out that, in reality, I’m a sandwich delivery person?”
That question brings them up short.
It brings me up short, too. I wasn’t planning on saying that.
“And I used to come on camera for a living,” Tobias says, narrowed eyes riveted on my face. “No one is passing any sort of judgment here. Your profession is irrelevant.”
“Maybe to you,” I rasp, suddenly feeling winded. “When you three walked in—”
“You mean the Tram Fam,” Tobias interrupts.
Banks smacks him in the shoulder.
Gabe whips a growl in the Brit’s direction.
“I will never say those words out loud,” I inform the room.
“Please continue, Elise,” Banks says, refocusing on me. “When we walked in…？”
I have to take a deep breath before I continue, because they are so close and their scents combine to create some kind of intoxicating super scent, which must be the reason I have goosebumps all down my arms and legs. “When you walked in, I was telling the managing editor, Karina, about my trip to Roosevelt Island. I didn’t lie about being there as a reporter. Problem is, I am not employed as a reporter, as you can tell by this incredibly unflattering apron.” I look at Gabe, resisting the urge to walk into his arms when I remember very distinctly how warm and secure I feel inside of them. “I was there to follow a different story. One involving your union boss, Gabe. Jameson Crouch. I asked you out so I could…I thought maybe you could give me closer access to him, because I think he might be in cahoots with the deputy mayor. I think they might be sabotaging the mayor. But…using you for information didn’t feel right. I couldn’t use you like that. So I left without making firm plans. Okay?”
No one moves for long moments as that confession settles over the room.
Banks reaches out and tips my chin up. “Why didn’t using him feel right?”
I look at Gabe and find him watching me steadily. Maybe a tad warily—and I can’t blame him, but the wariness hurts. More than it should.
“Did it feel like you were betraying him?” Tobias asks.
I’m distracted by the intensity in Gabe’s expression, which is why this next part slips out. “Yes. And it felt like I was betraying the group.” Which is something I had no idea was true until the words are hanging in the air between the four of us, leaving me shaken down to my toes.
“It’s the Tram Fam effect,” Tobias murmurs.
We all roll our eyes at him.
“Elise,” Banks says, an underlying sense of urgency in his tone. That finger is still tipping up my chin, making me feel very vulnerable. And God help me, extremely turned on. I’m standing before three very interested men who appear to be poised to pounce if given a single word of encouragement. “I understand why you’re hesitant. This whole thing is…unexpected. The kind of thing other people do.” He presses his thumb into the center of my chin and drags my mouth open, allowing a soft whimper to escape past my defenses. “Let’s try it on for size, anyway. You can back out at any time.”
I’m exposed. My head is spinning. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t…attaching myself to these three men in this moment. It’s happening whether I like it or not. Or maybe it happened last night over the East River. Whatever the reason, I find myself confiding in them. Opening myself in ways I’ve rarely done with anyone. “I do everything halfway. I’m afraid to do the work and have it mean nothing, so I look for shortcuts. I’m…this…you are going to require too much of me.”
Tobias props a forearm on the door above my head, his mouth dropping to the space just above the curve of my neck. “Say yes, anyway,” he implores me hoarsely. “If any of us leave socks on your floor, you get a free dick punch.”