We collapse in a heap of sated bodies. “Spend the night,” Oliver says. “Please?”
I can’t think about what I’m doing too much. I’m acting on instinct, and my emotions threaten to overwhelm me. “Okay,” I reply, forcing myself to sound casual. “But only because I want to watch Sense 8.”
21
If you love life, don't waste time, for time is what life is made up of.
Bruce Lee
Finn:
Nearly two weeks go by. Oliver, Miki, and I spend most of our free time together, watching TV, playing games, and of course, making love.
I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.
It can’t last. My grandmother gently reminds me that I need to be honest with Miki. I have to tell her that her online friends, Lancelot and Merlin, are really Oliver and me.
My grandmother’s right. Both Oliver and I are living on borrowed time.
I’ve fallen in love with Miki. The more time I spend with her, the more I’m terrified of losing her.
Oliver and I are at happy hour on Friday when Fitzgerald walks in again. This time, he’s alone. Claudia’s nowhere to be seen. “I need to talk to you,” he says to us, gesturing toward an empty booth.
Oliver raises an eyebrow. “About what?” he asks. “About the fact that you told my ex-wife to blackmail me for Imperium stock? About the suspicious number of similarities between our products and Kliedara’s?”
Fitzgerald’s lips tighten with annoyance. “I heard you’re closing your private security division,” he says. “I’m interested in buying it.”
I snort. “You’ve got to be kidding.” After all the crap he’s pulled, Fitzgerald has to be delusional if he thinks we’re going to do business with him. “I wouldn’t work with you if we were the last two people on Earth.”
Miki isn’t here. She was at the bar earlier for a drink, but she left after one pint. “I didn’t sleep great yesterday,” she’d said, winking at us. “And I haven’t spent a single night in my apartment for days. I’m going to go home, change into my pajamas and fall asleep.”
I’m glad she’s gone; there’s a chance that I’m going to punch that smug look off Fitzgerald’s face, and I don’t need her to witness the bar fight.
Fitzgerald’s cheeks redden. “I’m going to get my hands on that division,” he snaps. “One way or another. One day soon, Sanders, you’re going to look at the wreckage of your life, and you’re going to wish you’d cooperated with me when you had a chance.” He turns to Oliver. “Well, Prescott?”
“Well, what? Finn’s answer seemed perfectly clear to me.”
His jaw set tight, he stalks out of the bar. Oliver glances at me. “What are the odds that Fitzgerald and Kent are working together?”
“My gut says it’s pretty high,” I reply. “But we don’t have any proof.”
It’s maddening. Without proof, the board won’t listen. Unfortunately, to get proof, we need Miki’s cooperation.
And for that, we have to tell her the truth.
Miki:
“So, Miki.” Wendy gives me a searching look. “Tell us what’s going on.”
It’s Monday night. The six of us—Bailey, Gabby, Piper, Wendy, Katie, and I—have gotten together for pizza and beer.
In other words, it’s time for the inquisition.
I could pretend that I have no idea what they’re talking about, but one way or the other, my girlfriends are going to get at the truth. I might as well just blurt everything out. “Fine. I’m sleeping with my bosses.”
I reach for my second slice of pizza. It’s got artichoke, spinach, and feta cheese, and is absolutely delicious. Bailey clears her throat. “You don’t think we’re done with the questions, do you?” Her lips curve into a grin. “We want all the details, Miki.”
“What I want to know is,” Piper says, leaning forward and surveying me with worried eyes, “are you serious about these two guys? Are they serious about you? Why haven’t we met them yet?”
I hold up my hands to ward off the flurry of questions. “You haven’t met them because it’s not a real relationship,” I reply. “We’re just friends with benefits.”
“Why?” Katie asks curiously. “Is there no spark between you?”
There are plenty of sparks. The three of us—Finn, Oliver, and I—have spent almost every single night together in the last two weeks. I’ve barely been on the DefCon forums. The last time I chatted with Lancelot and Merlin was Friday, and that conversation only lasted five minutes. It makes me feel disloyal, but I don’t miss my online friends as much as I thought I would.
The truth is, I’m falling in love with Oliver and Finn. Or maybe I’ve already fallen. Friday night, terrified at the thought, I’d left happy hour early, telling the two men I needed to catch up on my sleep, but I’d ended up tossing and turning all night. I couldn’t get comfortable without Oliver and Finn in bed with me.
“Oliver doesn’t believe in relationships,” I reply. “His ex-wife has made him commitment phobic. And Finn’s too busy with the IPO.”
“Sure.” Bailey’s expression tells me she doesn’t believe a word of my explanation. “When was the last time you slept at Wendy’s place?”
“Friday.”
“And before that?” Gabby asks pointedly.
Gabby and I had a long conversation right after she apologized to Oliver. She apologized for interfering, and I forgave her readily. My friends had disliked Aaron, but I’d chosen to bury my head in the sand and pretend that everything was okay. I won’t make that mistake again.
She’s been working with him closely as they come up with a strategy to blunt the impact of Claudia’s photos, whenever she chooses to release them. The two of them get along quite well. “I admit, I was wrong about your two men,” she’d told me last week. “They’re good guys. Hold on to them.”
I flush in response to her question. “I can’t remember. Fine, we do spend a lot of time together, but that’s because we have a lot in common.”
“Hmm,” Katie says. “You know, it’s okay to fall in love again. If you meet the right guy—or the right pair of guys—don’t let Aaron get in the way of happiness.”
I eat my slice of pizza in silence. My friends are in happy, stable relationships, and love has made romantics of them all. What they don’t know, however, is that my ménage with Oliver and Finn is built on a lie. I was hired to hack into their company. Kent’s still out there, the Post-it note on his monitor gone, waiting for me to give him what he needs.
Until I tell Oliver and Finn the truth, there can be no future between us.
Where are you? Finn texts me at nine-thirty, shortly after we settle the tab.
Oliver and Finn had a dinner meeting with some clients. I didn’t expect to hear from them tonight, but the moment I see Finn’s text, a smile breaks out on my face.
Just leaving, I reply. You?
Dinner just wrapped up. Meet us at my place?
“She’s sexting her lovers,” Bailey sing-songs, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Let me guess; they want you to come over.”
My cheeks heat. “Something like that.”
Gabby chuckles. “Go get some, Miki. You deserve it.”
No, I don’t. I’ve been greedy for the last fourteen days, but the timer’s almost down to zero. Tomorrow morning, the two weeks of grace I won from Kent are going to run out, and he’s going to demand answers.
I text Finn back. Sounds good. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.
It’s time for the truth.
22
There is no glory in battle worth the blood it costs.
Dwight D. Eisenhower
Oliver:
It’s been almost a month since Valentine’s Day. A month since Miki walked into our party, our lives, and our hearts.
“We have to tell her.”
“I know,” Finn replies. He’s staring out of the window, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched.
“The longer we go without reveal
“I know,” he says again. “I know what you’re saying is right.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m afraid we’re going to lose her.”
Finn doesn’t lower his shields very often and admit he needs people. His grandmother, yes. Everyone else, he keeps at a distance.
Not Miki.
“Me too,” I admit.
He raises an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t want commitment,” he says. “You weren’t looking to get involved.”
“I wasn’t,” I reply shortly. “It happened anyway.” I take a deep breath. “And I don’t regret it.”
After the divorce, I let myself get angry. Bitter. I slept with woman after woman, as if sex was the cure to shattered trust. Miki was on the other side of a computer screen, and because she wasn’t a part of my real life, I let her in.
I don’t know what Kent is doing. I don’t know what Claudia might do. Fitzgerald’s offer to buy the private security division had surprised me last week, but even though Finn and I have searched hard for any shred of a tie linking our CFO to our biggest competitor, we’ve come up short.
It stands to reason that Kent’s the person leaking our technology to Fitzgerald. But how? Why? These are not questions we have answers to.
At one point, not too long ago, Finn would have gone straight to work after dinner, and he’d have spent the night in front of a computer screen, trying to solve the puzzle.
At one point, beset by forces beyond my control, I’d have gone to a bar and picked up a woman to sleep with, a woman whose name I’d have trouble remembering in the morning.
Things have changed for the better for both of us, but the progress is illusionary. Until we tell Miki the truth, everything we’ve gained can disappear in the blink of an eye.
She walks into Finn’s apartment, tossing her coat on the couch and pulling her sweater over her head. “Hey, you two,” she says, her voice light. “You both look really serious. What’s going on?”
I should tell her now, but her cheeks are pink from the cold, and her nipples are hard under her t-shirt. You’re being an asshole, Prescott, my conscience accuses me. Tell her everything.
If this is the last night I have with her, I want to remember everything. The warmth of her smile, the soft flush of her cheeks, the fragrance of her skin.
“Come here,” I tell her, a growl in my voice. I push her against Finn’s floor-to-ceiling windows. “I want you.”
I twine my fingers in her hair and tug her toward me, kissing the delicate skin of her neck, licking the vein that pulses at her nape.
Her breathing catches. “You have me,” she replies, a strange expression on her face. She winds her hand around the back of my head, and her lips brush across mine. “I’m right here.”
Finn knows exactly why I’m feeling the way I am. There’s a serious, intent look on his face as he moves toward Miki. “Take off your t-shirt and bra.”
She’s in full view of the window. We’re on the top floor, and Finn’s building is taller than the ones that surround it, but if someone looks up, we could still be seen.
It doesn’t matter. Common sense has fled the building. There’s a recklessness that rages through me tonight.
A recklessness that’s matched by Miki. She whips her top over her head and reaches behind her back to undo her bra clasp, letting the lacy garment fall to the floor. “What now?” she whispers.
I feel my lips lift in an involuntary smile. Taking a step back, I let my gaze run all over her beautiful body. Over the firm, round globes of her breasts, over the rosy pink tips of her nipples. “Take off your jeans,” I order.
She obeys wordlessly, a shiver running through her body. I trace the outline of her nipples with my fingertips and pinch the buds.
“Turn and face the window,” Finn says. “One of us is going to make you fall apart, Miki. You’re going to come, your breasts pressed against the glass, in full view of the city below.”
Her expression is hungry, almost raw. “Do it.”
Finn’s hands caress her back. He cups her ass, and his fingers trail down the back of her thigh. I move to her right, and kiss the back of her neck, moving her hair over her shoulder.
“Do I get to touch you?” There’s a smile in her voice as she strokes the outline of our cocks with her hands. “Or is that against the rules?”
“You can do whatever you want as long as you keep your legs parted,” Finn replies. He nudges her legs wider apart and slides his hand between her thighs. “So fucking wet,” he says harshly.
She whimpers as he strokes her, and she grinds her hips down. “Please,” she gasps, her voice almost a sob as he touches her clitoris. “Harder, please—”
She’s still rubbing her palm against my shaft. I’m still kissing the back of her neck. She pants and whimpers as Finn pushes his fingers into her pussy, and she whimpers as I bite her shoulder.
Then her fingers grip my bicep, and she shatters with a half-sob. I run my hands over her sweat-dampened skin, and I feel the warmth of her deep in my soul.
“Shall we continue this in bed?”
Miki:
It’s dark outside. I’m tangled in Finn’s sheets. Finn and Oliver are on either side of me, their bodies touching mine.
“I need to tell you something.” My voice comes out high and nervous. I discreetly wipe my palms on the bed.
Both of them freeze.
“I’ve hidden something from you for almost a month. When I ran into you at the party on Valentine’s Day, I wasn’t there by chance.”
“Miki.” Oliver’s voice is tight with tension. “Listen, there’s something you should hear from us.”
I barely pay attention to him. For days, guilt has sloshed through my insides. Both men have given me keys to their apartments. They’ve cooked for me. They’ve brought me coffee in the morning and donuts in the afternoon.
I’ve slept with them. I’ve given into temptation when I should have resisted, but it’s time for the truth, and I won’t let Oliver derail me.
“No,” I say, cutting him off. “Listen to me. Please. Let me say what I need to say.”
Finn takes my hand in his. He looks deep into my eyes, “Whatever you think you need to say to us, you don’t need to.”
Hot shame fills me, and I can’t meet his gaze. “I’m a hacker. I hang out on a forum. Last month, someone approached me there.” I take a deep breath. “He offered to pay me a hundred thousand dollars to hack into Imperium. He wanted a copy of your client list.”
Neither of them says anything, and I’m too afraid to look at them, to see how they’ve reacted to my betrayal. I swallow hard and force myself to continue.
“A couple of hacker friends did some digging.” I cross my fingers as I tell them my bombshell revelation. “They discovered who hired me. The person that offered me a hundred grand to hack into Imperium was Lawrence Kent. Your CFO.”
I’m waiting for anger. For bitter reproaches. I’m prepared to hear them defend Lawrence, prepared to hear them tell me that they’ll be pressing charges. I’m ready for anything.
Except for their lack of surprise. Finn looks uncharacteristically nervous. His grip on my hand tightens. “Miki, there’s something we haven’t told you.”
The shrill ring of his phone interrupts what he’s about to say.
He mutters a curse under his breath and silences the ringtone. He turns back to me, and the look on his face causes my heart to hammer in my chest. What’s going on here? Finn and Oliver aren’t reacting to my news. Why?
Oliver clears his throat. “Before we say anything,” he says, “I want you to know that I care about you and I trust you completely.”
Finn’s phone rings again. “For fuck’s sake,” he snarls, picking up the instrument. “It’s eleven on a Monday night. This better be important.” He swipes the screen. “Hello?”
He listens to the person on the other end of the line. His body tenses and his face goes totally white. His fingers grip the phone. “Where is she?”
“What’s wrong?” Oliver asks.
Finn turns to him, his eyes bleak. “My grandmother fell in the bathroom,” he says. “Her neighbors found her twenty minutes ago. The ambulance took her to Mount Sinai.”
Oliver’s already getting dressed. “I’ll come with you.”
“Me too,” I reply automatically. I put my arm around Finn’s shoulder. “Did they say how she’s doing?”
He shakes his head, dazed. “No,” he whispers. His fingers tremble as he reaches for his t-shirt. “She’s got to be okay.”
I’ve never met Finn’s grandmother, but he adores her and talks about her all the time. She brought him up, made him into the man he is today. My heart aches for Finn. “She will be.”
Last Christmas, I spent hours at Mount Sinai, as Wendy’s mother fought for her life after being in a serious car crash. Her recovery had been something of a miracle.
I cross my fingers and desperately hope for another one.
We get to the hospital and try to find someone who can help us, no easy task in the labyrinthine area. Finally, we’re directed to surgery, where a helpful nurse tells us that Finn’s grandmother is in the operating room.
“I’m Finn Sanders,” Finn grinds out. “I’m Joyce Sanders’ grandson. I’m her emergency contact.”
She gives him a sympathetic look. “Dr. Harris attended to your grandmother,” she says gently. “I’ll page him. Please sit down.”
Dr. Harris, a short man with kind eyes, arrives in five minutes. “Which one of you is Mr. Sanders?” he asks, looking at us.
“That’s me,” Finn replies. “What’s going on with my grandmother?”
“She slipped in the bathroom and broke her hip,” he replies somberly. “She’s in emergency surgery right now.”
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