All Chapters of WHY CHOOSE?: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Chapter 3 The three of us stood there, frozen in a moment that felt like it could shatter at any second. My hand was still pressed against Finn's chest. Luke's arms were still wrapped around him from behind. The air between us hummed with something electric and inevitable. "Your office?" Finn's voice was rough, wrecked from kissing Luke. "Or here?" I glanced around the medical bay. Exam table. Fluorescent lights. Anyone could walk in. "Here," I decided. "Lock the door." Finn moved first, crossing to the door and flipping the lock with a decisive click. When he turned back, his green eyes were dark with want, his lips swollen from Luke's mouth. Luke hadn't moved. He stood exactly where Finn had left him, hands clenched at his sides, chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. The careful control he always wore like armor was cracking. I could see it in the way his jaw worked, the way his eyes tracked Finn's every movement. "Come here," I said to Luke. He crossed

5 Practice the next day was torture. I stood at the edge of the rink, clipboard in hand, pretending to take notes on player performance. In reality, I was watching three men very carefully not look at each other. Luke skated like he was trying to outrun something. Hard, fast, aggressive. He threw himself into drills with single-minded focus, his jaw set, eyes forward. Every time Finn got near him, Luke found somewhere else to be. Finn, on the other hand, couldn't stop trying to catch Luke's eye. I watched him skate past Luke during a drill, close enough to brush shoulders. Luke didn't even flinch. Just kept moving like Finn was invisible. And both of them were very carefully avoiding looking at me. I couldn't blame them. Last night had been... intense. Life-changing. The kind of sex that rewired your brain and made you question everything you thought you knew about yourself. The locker room after practice was even worse. I had to go in—part of my job was post-practice c

CHAPTER 7 My apartment felt different with them in it. Luke stood by the window, looking out at the Portland skyline. His shoulders were tense, hands shoved in his pockets. Finn sat on my couch, elbows on his knees, watching Luke with concerned eyes. And I was in the kitchen, pouring three glasses of whiskey we probably all needed. The drive over had been silent. We'd taken separate cars—couldn't risk being seen together. Luke had arrived first, then Finn ten minutes later, then me. Like we were sneaking around. Which, I guess, we were. I carried the glasses into the living room and handed them out. Luke took his without looking at me, still staring out the window. Finn accepted his with a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Okay," I said, settling into the armchair across from Finn. "Let's talk." Luke finally turned from the window. "About what?" "About this. About us. About what the hell we're doing." Finn took a drink. "We're three people who want each oth

NADIA Things were good. That was the strangest part. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the guilt or the complications or the jealousy. But it never came. The three of us had fallen into an easy rhythm over the past few days. We were careful at the arena—professional, distant, no lingering looks or accidental touches. But away from prying eyes, we were something else entirely. Luke had stayed over twice more. Finn practically lived at my place now, his toothbrush next to mine in the bathroom, his shirts mixed with my laundry. And when the three of us were together, it felt right in a way I'd never experienced before. But keeping secrets was harder than I'd thought. I was in the training room, reorganizing supplies, when I felt eyes on me. I looked up to find half the team watching me through the glass partition. Not unusual—they were probably just curious about what their new doc was up to. But one set of eyes felt different. Cole Whitmore stood at the back

Finn's apartment was smaller. Just one bedroom, barely any furniture. But it felt lived in, comfortable. Clothes draped over chairs, hockey equipment in the corner, the faint smell of coffee and something sweet—vanilla, maybe. Luke stood in the middle of the living room, hands in his pockets, looking at Finn like he wasn't quite sure why he was here. "Thanks for letting me come over," Luke said. Finn closed the door behind them. "You said you wanted to talk." "Yeah. I did." Luke ran a hand through his hair. "About us. About... what we're doing." "Okay." Finn moved to the couch, sitting on the arm. "Talk." "I don't know how to do this," Luke admitted. "The whole relationship thing. With you. Without Nadia there." "Do you want to do it?" "Yes." No hesitation this time. "But I don't know what I'm supposed to—" He gestured vaguely. "I don't know the rules." "There are no rules," Finn said softly. "We make them up as we go." Luke moved closer. "And if I wanted to kiss yo