Yes, Masters (Book 2 of Desire's Den)

Chapter 3 - Emma

I bit the bullet and texted the guys I wanted to meet. With that done, Kevin rose from the couch and extended a hand to me, pulling me up. "Come on. Let's go make some dinner." He said it particularly loud, and a second later, I understood why.

Thomas's head peaked out of the bathroom door; the sight of him trying to see if the coast was clear nearly made me smile. While I wasn't exactly ready to be alone in my apartment, it helped to know that these two love birds would get some alone time together without me sucking away their romance.

Cooking had recently become a new interest of mine. Or rather, cooking with a certain someone had become a new interest. It wasn't the same, though, standing in the kitchen with Kevin and Thomas. The joy I'd felt when Gideon gave me instructions wasn't there now. Instead, I felt disinterested as I started cutting up the salad because the fun had come from spending time with him, not the cooking in itself. Now, it was more like a chore. There was no excitement in it.

I wondered if it would always be like this going forward. Would everything I did-stuff I'd done with them-only ever remind me of them? Would I be thrust back to the intimate moments I spent with Gideon every time I picked up a knife to cut some vegetables? Would my bed always remind me of the night Callan spent the night after he'd worried for hours about me being safe? Would the taste of Italian pizza bring back the memories of my first unofficial date with Mateo?

We'd been together for such a short period, but in that time, they'd taken place in my life, in my memories and thoughts. And in the innermost secret part of myself, I could admit they'd also taken a piece of my heart.

"Shit," I yelped, bringing my bloody finger to my lips, and sucked on the sting. I'd been too stuck in my head to focus on the cutting.

"Fuck, how bad is it?" Kevin hurried to my side, taking in the droplets of blood staining the cutting board.

"Not bad. It feels worse than it is." Biting my teeth to stop cursing to the moon and back, I accepted the paper towel Kevin offered and pressed it to the shallow cut on my finger.

"I'll go find a band-aid for you," Thomas said. He looked queasy at the sight of the blood seeping through the paper. "Go sit down. I can finish the salad." He ushered me back towards the couch while Kevin quickly returned to the pot, stirring it and making sure it didn't get burned.

"Seriously, it's fine. I can still make the salad," I protested without any real heat. I couldn't find it in myself to keep faking. Little by little, I was falling apart. I just needed to get through the dinner first and get home before the mask fell completely.

"You're not in the right headspace, and I, for one, will not have an accidentally amputated finger on my conscious because I let you handle a knife," Thomas said as he brought me a band-aid from Kevin's First Aid Kit.

Thomas and I had become fast friends, and I feel we'd bonded through his time with Kevin. He'd also been there for me these past days, mostly doing little things like making sure Kevin's place was clean before I moved in, and how he let me have some time alone with my best friend.

Seeing some sense in what he said, I finally nodded and let him get back to cooking as I plastered my finger, my mind already going back to the guys. It hurt thinking about them, but it was like I was unable to not think about them. Yeah, I was definitely not in the right headspace. I guess my mind found it easier to steer towards Callan, Mateo, and Gideon instead of the unknown person-that was a whole other problem I wasn't ready to get into. At least, the sadness would be something Kevin expected, as opposed to the terrifying fright I could feel lurking beneath my skin.

My phone vibrated next to my plate just as we sat down to eat. One look at it, and I stiffened.

"Is it from the guys?" Kevin paused with the spatula, getting ready to serve us some lasagna.