Chapter 66 : Too Many Heartbeats for One Chest
New York, Manhattan, ESU – Darcy's POV
Okay. So apparently I was ready. At least, that's what I'd said out loud.
Inside, I was one wobbling exhale away from imploding. My hands wouldn't stop fidgeting, my knees bounced under the table, and I had to consciously force myself to take even half-decent breaths. Alex's eyes were on me—steady, calm, unnervingly warm—and that… made everything worse. Gwen, on the other hand, looked perfectly relaxed, leaning back slightly, amused, like she'd already anticipated every possible reaction I could have. I hated that she was right. I hated that I envied that certainty.
Alex leaned in slightly—not too close, just enough to anchor the moment. My stomach did a weird flip at the movement, and I tried not to let my panicking brain spiral further.
"Darcy," he began, voice low, even, impossibly calm, "before anything else… I want you to know I'm flattered. Really. That you're interested in me—even though I'm with Gwen—and especially considering we only met a few hours ago… that means something."
Instant heat shot straight to my face. I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but all that came out was a tiny, strangled noise. My tongue felt glued to the roof of my mouth. Gwen snorted softly behind her cup, and I blinked at her, mortified, cheeks flaming.
Alex didn't seem bothered. He just tilted his head, observing, waiting. And that… was somehow worse. His attention felt like a spotlight, and I had no idea how to hide from it.
"Our relationship," he continued, slow, measured, "is a little unconventional. Gwen set the foundation for it, and we both understand how it works, what we want, and what we're open to."
He paused. His gaze didn't waver from me. I felt my chest tighten, my pulse spiking. "But before we explain any of that… I want to understand you."
My throat closed. Understand me? My brain short-circuited. Usually, I got the 'fun, chaotic, comic relief' label. Usually, I could hide behind flustered laughter or awkward jokes. Now… now I had to be real.
"What do I… want?" I whispered to myself, hands gripping the edge of the table. My fingers dug little crescents into the wood as my thoughts scattered. I swallowed hard, forcing a real, steady breath.
Alex's voice softened, but not in a pitying way. Just… careful. "What do you want, Darcy? Not what you think would make this easier. Not what you think Gwen or I want. Just you."
I bit my lip. My heartbeat thudded against my ribs like it was trying to escape. My thoughts raced, collided, then did loops I didn't understand. I tried to put it into words. Tried.
"I… I…" My voice wavered. My hands were twitching now, pulling at the sleeves of my hoodie. Gwen raised an eyebrow, prompting me, and I squeaked—a tiny, high squeak I didn't even realize came out. "I like you. Alex. A lot. And yes… I'm… overwhelmed. But also… drawn in."
Gwen's grin widened knowingly, teasingly. "I knew it."
I squeaked again, louder this time, and started fumbling with my coffee cup. My words spilled faster than I could control, almost a rush.
"I'm not trying to jump ahead, or… or push… anything. I mean—God, I sound like an idiot—but I felt something earlier. With you. And I can't just… pretend I didn't."
Alex's expression softened—subtle, almost imperceptible, but somehow it hit me where I didn't know I was vulnerable. His eyes seemed to… slot my messy, stammered confession into a place he'd already built in his mind.
"I… don't know the rules," I said, words tumbling out despite my panic. "I… I don't even know if I… fit anywhere. But if you're asking… what I want… it's… to see where this goes. With you."
Silence fell. Warm, expectant, but not heavy. My chest was fluttering too fast, and I could feel my hair tickle my cheeks as I fidgeted again.
Gwen leaned forward, eyes bright, approving. "Good. That's honest. And honesty is the only thing that actually works with us."
Relief flickered… briefly. Then her teasing glint hit me like a jolt.
"And just so you know… my little teasing earlier? When I hinted about… sharing Alex? That wasn't just playful. Yeah, that was me teasing you. Hinting that… well… Alex isn't exactly 'just Alex.'"
I blinked. My mind hit pause. Not exactly just Alex? What the hell did that mean? My hands clutched the cup until my knuckles went white.
Gwen leaned back, smug, confident. "See, I've kind of… encouraged a little arrangement around Alex. A harem, if you will. With him at the center, of course—he's the constant, the anchor. And me? Well… let's just say I'm the queen. The first. The one who set it up and holds that place, permanently."
I froze. Harem? Queen? The words spun around in my head, tangling with the nervous hammering of my heart. I felt my stomach clench, fingers gripping the edge of the table as if it could keep me from flying apart.
"And yes," Gwen continued, eyes sparkling, mischievous, "there are already others. Strong, interesting… maybe someone you've noticed. My little hints weren't random. I wanted you to see—pay attention."
I blinked again. MJ. Of course. My brain scrambled—the teasing, the energy I'd sensed earlier, the way Gwen had looked at me. It all clicked. She wasn't joking. Gwen was letting me know MJ was already part of this… this world she'd built around Alex.
My chest tightened, fluttering nervously. A mix of shock, curiosity, and something like… excitement? I swallowed hard, words bubbling out before I could stop them.
"Okay… I think I get it. You… you're the queen, Alex is at the center… and there are already others. People he's… close with in this… setup." My voice was hurried, anxious, uneven, a little shaky, but I couldn't stop talking, the revelation pushing my nerves into overdrive.
Alex nodded, calm, precise. "Exactly. Gwen is… the queen. She's the one who will always be with me—first, constant, irreplaceable. The others fall into a few categories."
My head spun as he explained, words tumbling into my brain faster than I could organize. Wives. Partners. Concubines. Emotional bonds. Casual bonds. Sex, affection, choice, hierarchy. My hands moved again, clenching the cup, fidgeting with my hoodie strings, tugging at my hair without realizing.
"And Gwen's teasing?" I asked softly, a little too fast, voice tight, panic bubbling at the edges. "That was… about this… setup?"
Alex shook his head, faint smile teasing. "Not exactly. Gwen just noticed your interest. And, well… as said before, she's the one who wants me to have my… harem. She's first to toss people my way, makes sure I never go without options."
I blinked again, heart pounding, words spilling. "Wait… so… she… she's just… helping you? She doesn't… freak out? Like… like other girlfriends?"
Alex laughed softly. "Usually, when a guy talks to another girl, his girlfriend freaks out. Creates scenes, drama, jealousy. But Gwen? She hands me the girls on a silver platter. Watches with that smug little grin."
Gwen arched an eyebrow. "Oh? Complaint, Alex?"
He shook his head, faint grin teasing again. "Not at all. Especially when the girls are cute… and adorable, like Darcy here. I'll be the last to complain."
Heat flooded my cheeks. My stomach fluttered, every nerve alight. I could barely stop my hands from shaking, words jostling in my throat like they were trying to escape.
I bit my lip, trying to focus, trying to calm my panicking brain. "Okay… I… I think I understand a little better now," I whispered, almost to myself.
Alex's faint smile widened. "Good. That's all I need for now—to understand where we stand, and to decide where you want to be."
I blinked, trying to catch my breath. "I… I get it. I… I understand… what this could be." My hands twisted nervously, my hoodie tugged over my fingers. "I… I'll… think about it. Need a moment. But I… I get it."
Alex nodded, calm, steady, grounding. "Exactly. No answer right now. Just… know what you're stepping into, so your choice is fully informed. No pressure."
I swallowed hard, heart hammering, nerves thrumming through me, but somehow… just knowing the structure, the rules, the intention… made it feel slightly… possible. Manageable.
"Okay," I whispered again, slightly firmer, words spilling faster than I meant, "I… I understand. I'll… think."
Gwen leaned back, humming softly, satisfied. I tried to focus on Alex, on his steady, patient gaze, letting myself inhale another shaky, calming breath. The storm of nerves inside me was still there, jittering and alive—but somehow, just slightly… tethered.
I blinked a few times, trying to settle the storm in my chest. My thoughts were still spinning, but Alex's calm presence anchored me, just enough that I could let the panic ebb slightly.
"Alright," he said softly, voice steady, "you've got a lot to think about. There's no rush. I just wanted to make sure you knew what this could mean—so you can decide for yourself."
I nodded, though my hands were still twisting the edge of the table. "Yeah… I… I get it. I'll think… seriously." My voice came out faster than I intended, betraying my nerves again. I felt heat crawl up my neck, but Alex just gave a faint, approving nod.
Gwen chuckled lightly. "See? He's good at this. Makes people spill their guts and then… lets them breathe."
I couldn't help a small, shaky laugh, the tension loosening just a fraction. "Yeah… I guess that's… helpful," I admitted, rubbing my temples with one hand.
The conversation drifted then, slowly, like a river finding a calmer stream. Alex started asking about my day again, in a lighter tone, and I found myself talking about small things—coffee lines, classes, experiments that went weirdly wrong. Gwen chipped in with teasing comments, anecdotes from her own morning, and I laughed nervously more than once, realizing the panic inside me was fading into a jittery excitement.
I caught glimpses of Alex watching me, patient and unhurried, while Gwen leaned back occasionally, clearly enjoying the banter and my increasingly human reactions. Somehow, it felt… normal. Safe, even, to breathe and just exist here for a little while.
We spent the next little while talking about everything and nothing. Campus events, professors, the absurdity of some experiments, weird campus food… I found myself relaxing, though my chest still beat faster whenever I accidentally looked at Alex.
Eventually, the afternoon light began to fade outside the window, and reality crept back in. Gwen stretched, glancing at her watch. "Alright, I think we've all had enough caffeine and existential discussions for one day."
Alex smiled faintly, nodding. "Yeah. Let's call it a day. No rush tomorrow, right?"
I realized my shoulders had been tense, and I let them drop with a sigh. "Right… yeah," I muttered, feeling both relief and a strange reluctance that this moment had to end.
We gathered our things, Gwen looping her arm through mine briefly again, her grin playful. Alex stayed close, calm, reassuring, and I felt an odd mixture of nerves and gratitude as we stepped toward the door.
Outside, the air was cool, a little of the day's warmth still lingering. Gwen waved, teasing, "See you both soon… try not to explode thinking about Alex too much, Darcy."
I rolled my eyes, laughing despite myself. "No promises."
Alex gave me a small, steadying smile, and I realized… maybe I didn't need promises. Maybe it was enough just to exist in the middle of all this, aware, flustered, and… strangely, alive.
We parted ways eventually, each heading toward our own path home. My mind kept replaying pieces of the conversation, the teasing, the structure, the possibilities… and even though panic still lingered at the edges, a small spark of curiosity and anticipation had taken root.
New York, Queens – Alex's POV
I stepped into my apartment, the door closing softly behind me. The hum of the city outside felt distant, muted, as if the day's chaos had been filtered through some invisible screen. For a moment, I let myself sink into the quiet, shedding the weight of the café, Gwen, Darcy… everything that had made the afternoon so intense.
Dropping my backpack by the sofa, I moved over to my desk, flicking on the computer. Emails. Notes. Campus reminders. A few messages from Gwen, playful and mundane, and then—something that made me pause.
"Re: Collaboration Proposal – Valve"
I blinked, fingers frozen over the mouse. I hadn't expected a reply so soon. A subtle tightening ran through my chest, a mix of curiosity and cautious anticipation. Slowly, deliberately, I clicked to open the email.
The first lines were formal, polite, standard corporate phrasing. Then came the key words, the ones that made my pulse tighten despite my calm exterior:
"We are very interested in exploring a partnership with you. The initial concept you proposed aligns with our current development roadmap, and we would like to discuss next steps…"
I leaned back, absorbing the words, my mind already running through contingencies, strategies, implications. This wasn't just a yes—it was a door, a choice, a vector of influence and opportunity. And I could feel the weight of it, the possibilities spreading out in threads I could already start to pull at.
I scrolled down, eyes catching every carefully phrased nuance, every hint at conditions or expectations. A collaboration with Valve wasn't trivial—it could shift everything. Projects, exposure, control, leverage. My fingers twitched slightly, unused to the thrill of opportunity filtered through calm calculation.
Then my gaze fell on the final line, a single sentence set apart from the rest, almost casual in tone—but I felt it in my chest like a small jolt:
"Please confirm a convenient time for a meeting; we are eager to hear more about your vision in person."
The cursor blinked at me, waiting. A simple confirmation. And yet… the decision felt monumental.
I leaned back, letting the email linger on the screen, my mind spinning faster than I wanted to admit. Gwen's teasing earlier, Darcy's flustered reactions, the quiet pull of curiosity and desire—they all seemed to orbit this moment, distant satellites in the gravity of opportunity.
A slow smile crept onto my face, faint but real. A chance like this didn't come often. And I knew, as my fingers hovered over the keyboard, that whatever I typed next would set things in motion. Not just for me, but for the threads of the world I was quietly pulling together.