by Amy Sumida
When I glance up, a smirk covers his face as his eyes greedily rake over her ass. I tell him, “I wouldn’t dare smack her ass, apparently.”
Morgan’s eyes snap back to mine, and his grin widens. I know what he’s thinking. Dirty fucker.
He confirms my suspicions when he speaks up. “Benji might not be the ass smacker, but I am. I don’t mind turning your ass a pretty shade of red.”
My teeth grind painfully, but I force myself to stop when I remember her thigh is pressed up against my cheek, and she’ll likely be able to sense it.
Shayne comes to the front door to check on the commotion and laughs when he realises the situation Arlia is in. I don’t turn away from Morgan as I struggle to control my anger. I’m so focused on Morgan that I don’t grasp what’s happening until it’s too late. Shayne swoops in and steals Arlia off my shoulder. Her weight lifts away and, from the corner of my eye, I see her sway. Shayne makes a grab for her, then gently walks her safely into the house.
Morgan immediately pulls the front door shut behind them, then walks past me a little way until he plonks his ass down on the steps that lead back to the street. Knowing I’m likely to receive a fuckin’ earful, I huff and settle in next to him. Might as well get this shit over with now.
Morgan stares out at the street. “What was that?”
He acts like he’s not paying attention to me, but he seems to forget I know how he works. He’ll come across as if he’s unfocused, but really, he takes note of everything you’re doing without realising it.
“What was what?” I play dumb and hope he’ll drop the subject. When he huffs, though, I know I won’t escape any time soon. “Fine, I don’t know… A jealous moment, I guess. I saw your eyes light up when you were gawking at her ass, and I didn’t like it. And I know, okay? I’m being a dick and need to get over myself. I thought I made progress earlier, but I just… I guess I didn’t, after all.”
Sighing, he nudges my shoulder with his own. “I’ll cool it. I know it makes you uncomfortable and the last thing I want is this being any more difficult for you. If I forget then give me a kick or something.”
I drop my hands onto my knees and glare at the step, not ready to look at his face. “I don’t think you should stop. I need to deal with this. I’d rather it happens now than somewhere in the future. It’s something I’m going to need to be used to. And I will. But I don’t want you to stop. That makes me sound like such a twisted shit, I know.”
Morgan laughs before getting to his feet. “No more twisted than the rest of us, brother. It takes a special kind of twisted to share a girl with your friends, but I’m beginning to like it.” He holds a hand down and pulls me up until I stand next to him. “Come on, let’s go rescue her from Shayne. Who knows what that fucker’s putting on the tele. As much as I like having a girl in the group, I don’t wanna be watching the girly films his mum brought over. Let’s hope Arlia likes some of the more manlier options.”
When we arrive at the living room, we stop in the doorway and watch Shayne and Arlia. They sit on one side of the corner sofa, pizza menus scattered around them, their heads together. I silently observe as they fawn over what food they want to order like a couple of excited kids in a sweet shop. Not wanting to make them jump, I step into the room and give them time to realise we’re there before I ask, “So, has the lady decided what pizza it’ll be?”
She lifts her head away from Shayne’s to smile warmly at us. “Ham and pineapple.”
I laugh at the way Morgan’s face scrunches up in disgust. He whines pitifully, “Please tell me you’re not one of these people who likes to mix sweet and savoury shit together.”
Arlia throws her head back, laughing. “Afraid so, buster. I like sweet and sour from the Chinese just as much as the next person.”
Morgan throws himself dramatically onto the sofa and whimpers, “She can’t stay, guys. Whatever it is, it could be catching, and I just… We can’t allow such an abomination into our lives and put ourselves at risk.”
Shayne sits forward and grabs Arlia’s cheeks, squishing her face up. He coos to her in a baby voice, “But she’s so cute. Maybe we can save her, but tonight she can have such a disgusting concoction one last time. We’ll take it like the men we say we are.”
Arlia smacks his hands away, “You’re a bunch of dorks. It’s really not that bad.” She passes the menu to Morgan when he reaches across Shayne with a hand stretched out for it.
“Everyone want drinks?” I ask.
After a round of yeses, I go into the kitchen and grab a few different ones. I pull out the usual beers from the fridge that the guys like, place them on a tray, then search through the fridge for the bottle of wine Shayne’s mum left in there after her last visit. I’m not sure what Arlia drinks, so it’s best to grab a few different ones. Hopefully I hit the mark with one of them.
Flicking the kettle on for extra measure, I grab the tray and head back into the living room. Shayne and Arlia vacated the sofa, opting to sit in front of the sideboard. All the doors are open as they view the huge DVD collection it holds. Morgan talks on the phone while reading from the menu in his lap. I’m grateful he’s ordering the food now because I’m starving. Quietly so I don’t disturb him, I place the tray on the coffee table, pour a bottle of beer into a glass, and silently pass it over to him.
I knee walk over to where Arlia and Shayne sit, and whisper, “Arlia, there’s different drinks on the tray. Take whichever you like. If not, I can make you something different.”
She glances over her shoulder at the tray and smiles. “A beer would be great, thanks. I’m weird with wine. Sometimes I can drink it and be fine, other times, I could have a single glass and it puts me on my ass.”
Happy everyone has the drinks they prefer in hand, I settle on the sofa next to Morgan, watching how Arlia and Shayne interact with each other. I don’t allow jealousy to settle in, but watch with curiosity instead. The way Arlia leans back when she laughs because Shayne makes a stupid joke about a film, or the way she punches Shayne in the arm when he beeps her nose. It’s different, but a good different. I pray we can get things out in the open without screwing the whole thing up.
~
Ninety minutes later, the pizza has been devoured, even with the pineapple. The guys lounged around, Morgan on the sofa and Shayne sprawled out on the floor. Arlia currently sits next to me, and I managed to angle my body so she leans against me.
I caught Morgan glancing over to us a couple of times with a smirk, but I chose to ignore it and instead soaked up the warmth of Arlia’s small body next to mine, unsure when I’ll get to feel it again. Especially if it all goes to shit when we admit our feelings for her.
When the credits roll up on the film, my body tenses up. Are we going to talk to her now? I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I really wish we could drag this out a little longer. I know it’s the best, right, thing to do, but my stomach ties up in knots of unhappiness.
Shayne reaches forward to turn off the DVD and TV. Morgan stands, and hits the light switch, causing Arlia and me to groan and cover our eyes.
I move my arm away from my face after a few seconds and rapidly blink. Coloured dots dance across my vision, but I still manage to make out Morgan plonking his ass next to Shayne on the floor. Arlia frowns at the three of us and straightens. Immediately, I miss the heat that radiated from her small body.
“What’s going on, guys?” Confusion fills her voice, and I wince.
Fuck, this is really not going to end well.
Indecision fills Shayne’s face.
Join the club buddy.
Morgan doesn't dwell on the situation, though. When his face becomes serious, I realise he’ll be the one to bite the bullet and be the adult voice of reason.
"Guys?" Arlia questions again when we don’t answer her. "You're starting to freak me out. What’s going on?"
I shift in my seat, and Arlia’s attention hones straight in on me, her eyes narrowed.
Oh, god! Don'
t look at me!
Morgan speaks up and my body almost collapses in relief at not being the one to explain everything to her. If I did it, things would end up going from bad to worse, likely ending in us never, ever getting to see her again. "We want to talk to you about something. Only, I don’t know how you're going to take it. But I want you to at least consider it. Please."
"Okay, I won’t butt in until you've finished whatever this is... It can’t be that bad, can it?" she asks while eyeballing the rest of us.
I purposely keep my eyes turned away from hers. One look at me, and she'll likely know things are about to go to shit.
“Since that first night we met you, and having the opportunity to get to know you more since, the three of us have become fond of you... Very fond of you." Morgan pauses and gulps. "And because we've become fond of you, we were worried as things progress more between us all. We think things would become awkward if you dated only one of us. I don't want to hurt their feelings, or they mine, if it was only one of us… I guess what I'm trying to say is, we’ve all got feelings for you, and we'd all like the chance to date you."
"All of you?" Arlia asks. The frown between her eyes deepens, her hands wringing nervously in her lap.
I fight the urge to reach over and comfort her, worried she'll reject any sort of touch with the awkward topic being discussed between us.
Morgan straightens slightly, his face projecting the calmness he currently feels. I pray it works on her as much as it works on the rest of us. "Yeah… all of us," he confirms.
"I'm not sure what you expect me to say. I mean, I like all of you, but to date all three of you is… well, it’s weird. I don’t know what you expect me to do.” Her eyes move over the three of us. I can tell she’s struggling to figure out if this is some sort of joke or if we’re serious. Sighing, she continues, “I'm flattered, obviously, but I don't know if it's something I can do."
My body slouches from the weight of her words, and instant disappoint floods through me. Was it too much to wish she'd consider going for the idea without second-guessing it or thinking it's too weird? Although, I know later when things are calmer, I’ll be impressed she didn’t jump on board without hesitation. It says a lot about her character.
"Yes, it’s weird. The three of us are still coming to terms with this idea, too. It’s not something we've done before, and up until you, we'd never have even dreamed up the idea to be with the same girl together. I’m going to be a hundred percent honest with you here. I like you, my best friends like you. We know it’s not going to be clean sailing, and we know it’s come completely out of left field for you. But would you think about it at least? We don’t expect you to give us an answer right away. We'll wait for you to think it over. There's no time limit. The reason we’re telling you now is because we don't want to pursue a relationship with you based on false pretences and lies. If we’re going to do this, then we want to do this right, without putting pressure on you later."
"I-I'm stunned by all of this. I can’t give you an answer straight off. I like you all, too. I just… I'm not sure what you expect me to do here, with everything you’ve told me."
Shayne speaks up for the first time. "We don’t expect anything. You’re welcome to hang here and watch more films, or one of us can drive you home, if you’d prefer."
Nodding, the worry disappears from her face, clearly showing she came to some sort of decision the rest of us aren’t privy to. "I don't want to be weird, but could I get a lift home, please?"
Oh, god. She's bailing. She’ll never come back here again. I can’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to come back here again if I had three guys trying to pounce on me. Fuck! We've ruined everything. I hang my head in shame, unwilling to let her see the regret on my face. We really screwed this whole thing up.
A hand gently clasps my shoulder, and I jerk my head up in shock, only to be stunned when Arlia murmurs, "I'll call you."
Morgan leads her out of the room, and I turn to Shayne. He looks as miserable as I do. The sound of the front door shutting echoes down the hallway, and I groan.
"Well, that went well." I bite out, my voice full of bitterness.
"She didn't run screaming. That has to be a plus, at least.” Shayne rubs his arm, gaze focused on the last place Arlia stood. “All we can do now is give her time to come around to the idea. She'll either phone when she's come to a decision, or she won’t. There's not much else we can do."
"I know, I just... Fuck! I hate this. Her face, Shayne. She was so fuckin’ confused. You saw the look of disgust on her face as much as I did. She doesn't like the idea, and she likely never will. Let’s just put this down to a fucked-up mistake." Standing, I stalk down the hallway until I enter the kitchen. Stomping toward the cupboard where I stashed a bottle of whiskey, I grab it before heading back into the living room.
Throwing myself down onto the corner sofa, I grab the glass I used for my beer, and without much effort, I pour a huge glug of whiskey into it. I recap the bottle and swing it in Shayne’s direction. Once he catches the bottle, I knock the oversized shot back, having to gulp twice to empty the glass. Hissing at the burn, I grab the bottle back from Shayne and swiftly refill.
"Do you think that's wise?" Shayne asks with a pointed look at my glass.
"Probably not." I reach into my jeans pocket and pull my phone out, chucking it in his direction. "Take that and hide it somewhere. It'll save me from drunk texting Arlia or anyone else. It’ll save me from further humiliating myself."
"I feel you." Shayne sighs and picks up my phone. Taking his own out of his pocket, he puts them both inside the sideboard and snatches the bottle back from me. He pours himself a slightly smaller amount than I did, knocks it back, and lies on the floor. "How long do you reckon she'll take before texting or calling one of us?"
"I'll be amazed if she texts any of us ever again after tonight," I mumble.
The whiskey starts to kick in, causing my tongue to loosen up. We’ve had our chance, and blown it. We can’t contact her because we told her we'd give her the space to decide on her own without one of us interfering.
Fuck! This couldn't have gone anymore wrong.
We don’t have to wait around long before we catch the sound of the front door shutting and keys jangling when they hit the side table by the door. Morgan enters the living room. I barely manage to take note of his wet t-shirt, signalling the weather’s decided to add even more doom and gloom onto an already fucked up afternoon. Things were going so well earlier, right up until Morgan decided to open his mouth.
Anger bubbles inside me, and I direct it straight at him. "You just couldn’t keep your gob shut, could you? We were having such a good time, and you decided to talk to her today! Why today? Why couldn't you just fuckin' leave it until we got more stable with her, and she felt more comfortable around us?"
"Because if it was left any longer, things would likely be even fuckin' worse!” Morgan snaps right back. “You've been drinking. We'll talk about this when you’re sober and not acting like a complete twat."
Staggering to my feet, I sway over until I stand nose to nose with him. Rage spears through me, and I shove him. "Fuck you! I should have never agreed to this shit! I could've had more of a chance with her if things were left alone! And now we’ve all fuckin' lost her!"
"Don’t you dare blame this all on me, you asshole! I told you from the get-go we needed to do this together or not at all. To talk about it if things became difficult. You decided to be the jealous ass! When would you have planned to talk about it with her? Before or after you managed to steal her away? Or maybe after you’d marked her as yours like a damn tomcat and fucked her? She'd have felt even more like a fuckin' whore if you did tha—"
My fist smashes him in the face, cutting off the rest of his rant. Blood instantly pours out of his nose, and I know I fucked up. Morgan isn’t the one to mess with while sober, especially because he fights for a living, but to swing at him halfway drunk— I don’t stand a chance. I'm una
ble to stop the consequences.
In one move, Morgan has me underneath him and pinned to the floor, nose blood dripping next to my head, and his muscled forearm pressed against my windpipe. I furiously buck my hips to dislodge the fucker on top of me, but he doesn’t budge an inch. My head starts to feel lightheaded, and my eyes begin to close. Then, just as suddenly, the weight on top of me disappears.
Rolling onto my side, I cough to the point I'm surprised a lung doesn’t come up. My eyes are blurred, and I can barely make out the guys. Shayne’s back is pressed against the sofa, Morgan with his back pushed against Shayne’s chest. Shayne's legs tightly wrap around Morgan’s hips, holding him securely in place. My eyes water from the force of the coughing, and my throat feels bruised. Shayne mumbles unintelligibly under his breath, but I guess whatever he says is only for Morgan's ears. He clearly doesn’t want me to know.
The two show a united front against me, and it pisses me off and hurts. I wobble to my feet, swipe the whiskey bottle up, and make a beeline for the door. I don’t want to be in the same room as these assholes. If I stay, things between us will only become more disastrous.
"Benji, wait!" Shayne shouts as I crash into the doorframe and then into the wall in the hallway.
Not wanting to listen to his bullshit, I slur, "Fuck off."
I head up the stairs, hoping the whiskey will drown out the memory of what happened today.
Chapter Thirteen
Make Ups & Overtime
The first day passes by agonisingly slowly, but by the end of the fifth, all three of us are pulling our hair out. I know we agreed to give Arlia time to process the relationship we want with her, but fuck! This is too much. We don’t know what to do with ourselves, and I know at some point, all of us have contemplated going over to her house to find out what her decision will be.
The past few days have gone by at a sluggish pace. Morgan occupied himself by putting in extra hours at the gym, while Shayne buried himself by contributing extra hours at the office even though he hates it. I've spent my lonely nights in a local bar, although I haven’t touched a drop of alcohol since my fight with Morgan. Now, instead of drowning my sorrows with whiskey, I stick to only drinking coke.
