He cheated i chose two firefighters novel Chapter 80

Chapter 80

Scar’s POV

Dear Diary,

They’re heeeeeere.

***

(OCS) TO

After work, I kissed the guys goodbye and promised I’d see them at breakfast. Then I came back and helped Natalie settle in. She’d taken the primary bedroom in my condo, and I stood with her by the closet, sliding hangers onto the rod until the last dress was up.

“I still can’t get over how much you downsized,” I told her, tugging a shirt straight.

Natalie shrugged like it was nothing. “I didn’t care about the furniture. And honestly? Half my closet

was ‘maybe someday‘ clothes. Let’s stop lying to ourselves–I’m not going back to an eight. I’m good

at a twelve, and Dylan doesn’t mind the extra curves at all.”

I leaned on the doorframe. “So… are you actually thinking about meeting his brothers?”

“Yeah,” she said, already reaching for her phone. “We’ve been texting all weekend, and he was with

them the whole time. Here–look.”

She shoved the screen in front of me.

My mouth fell open.

And look–I’m obsessed with my guys. They’re my everything, and yes, they’re hot as hell. But Dylan’s

brother? Holy damn.

“Are you seeing this?” I said, practically narrating my own shock. “That man is nothing but muscle. Like, zero softness anywhere. Eight–pack, those V lines like Milo has–the ones I love to lick. And that skin… caramel. Smooth. He’s gotta be huge. Dylan’s what, six–two? That means this one’s like… six-

six.” I stabbed the air with a finger. “And he’s tattooed everywhere from the neck down. You know

that’s my weakness. Black hair, too. I can’t even tell his eye color because he’s wearing sunglasses,

which should be illegal.”

I swiped to the other guy and my tone changed without permission. “And this one is just… adorable. Total boy–next–door vibes with that blond hair. He looks like he belongs on a surfboard. Lean, cut, all that corded muscle. And the dimples? That smile? He’s literally sunshine.”

Natalie laughed like she’d been waiting for my breakdown. “Right? They’re fine as fuck. The big tattooed one is Clayton–the oldest. He’s thirty–three. Dylan’s thirty, the middle. And the blond one is

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Logan. He’s twenty–five, same as us.”

Libero Do S Month

She scrolled and kept going. “Clayton was a Marine. He’s been out about two years, and now he does security–like serious, high–end clients. The mayor–type.”

My eyes went wide. “Wait. Like, actual important people?”

“Yeah. Dylan said he even did private security for Liora once.”

“The pop singer?” I blurted, because I loved Liora.

Natalie nodded. “Yep. Three months with her team.”

“Okay, that’s… kind of exciting.”

“And Logan,” she added, “teaches at Brelwyn Academy. Calculus.”

I stared at her. “Shut up. Smart and hot? Those girls at that school must lose their minds. If I had a teacher who looked like that, I would’ve been insufferable.”

She giggled. Then she sobered, just slightly. “So. I’ve been thinking about everything you and I talked about. And what Mama Cici said. And… I’m going to meet them.”

My whole face lit up. “Yes! That’s what I wanted to hear. Girl, you’re about to have the time of your life.”

We were still laughing when my phone chirped. I checked it and squealed so loudly Natalie flinched.

“Papa and Mama landed,” I said, reading fast. “They’ll be here in an hour.” I looked up at her. “You’re still okay with them staying here, right?”

“Yeah,” she said easily. “I’m going to be with Dylan for a bit anyway. He asked me to apartment–sit for him. He wants me there tomorrow night until Sunday.”

“Oh–so you’re doing Thanksgiving with him?”

“With him and his brothers,” she confirmed.

“Then I want every detail when you get back.”

We headed to the kitchen, and I got dinner started–adobo on the stove, rice going, the whole place

filling up with garlic and vinegar and comfort. Another chirp hit my phone, and the reminder banner

made me groan.

“I almost forgot,” I said. “My doctor’s appointment is tomorrow. Birth control shot.”

Natalie made a face. “Oh shit, me too. Dylan wants to ditch condoms. We already did blood tests last

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week, so we’re good.”

I snorted. “Mine have been talking about no–condom life too. Is that a firefighter thing?”

She gave me a look. “That’s not a firefighter thing. That’s a breeding kink thing.”

I nearly dropped the spoon. “Natalie-”

“Be honest,” she pressed. “Do one of them–or both–like watching it leak out of you?”

Heat climbed up my neck. “Yeah,” I admitted. “Jace does. When he and Milo both finish in me, he’ll hold my legs open and just… watch. And when he’s done, he collects it and pushes it back inside.” I swallowed. “It freaked me out at first. Now it’s just… a thing.”

Natalie exhaled like she’d been waiting to confess too. “The one time Dylan and I went without a condom–because we were wasted and forgot–he made me stay right there while it slid out. He ran his fingers through it, pushed it back in, and told me he wanted to breed me.”

“Like… a baby?” I asked, brows lifting.

“No,” she said quickly. “It’s just the kink. He and Jace obviously share that.”

I pulled my phone out and looked it up, because of course I did. When I read the description, I nodded

to myself.

Yep. That was Jace.

A knock sounded at the door.

I squealed, Natalie squealed, and we both sprinted like teenagers. I swung it open and my mom made

the same sound I did–then she was already in my arms, hugging me hard. My dad chuckled behind

her, stepping in with that calm warmth he always had, and he pulled Natalie into a hug like she belonged there.

“How are my girls?” he asked, and then he hugged me too.

Mom hugged Natalie next, patting her arm like she was checking that she was real.

Dad sniffed the air with approval. “Smells good, Scar.”

“Adobo and rice,” I said.

“Perfect,” he replied. Then his eyes swept the condo. “So where are your young men?”

“Working,” I said. “Today and tomorrow are their shifts. Then they’re off Wednesday and Thursday,

and they work this weekend. Same schedule as me.”

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My mom clasped her hands, excited. “When do we meet them?”

“Tomorrow night,” I said. “They’re off at five. I’m off at two.” I started listing like a crazed caterer. “I’m doing steak tacos and chicken tacos for dinner, and I’ll basically live in the kitchen. Mini pumpkin ples and mini pecan pies–around twenty of each. And then a chocolate pie and a Dutch apple pie.”

“I’m helping,” Mom announced.

“Then can you make your rolls, Mama?” I asked. “I almost have your recipe right, but mine is still missing that something. Yours always tastes better.”

She touched my cheek. “Yes, my baby.”

“Thank you,” I said, and then I waved everyone toward the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat.”

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