Sucking cock with another person wasn’t a simple task, but it was fun. Not just because it drove Shahid crazy either. Every now and then, we’d get close enough to each other that we couldn’t resist pausing for a deep kiss before going back to unraveling Shahid. Gabe teased Shahid’s balls, and I focused on the head of his cock, and Shahid kept right on losing his mind. He gripped my hair in one hand, Gabe’s in the other, and shifted and squirmed between us. I didn’t even know what language he was speaking now, or if he was just moaning and slurring so badly it didn’t make sense anymore. It didn’t have to—he was turned on, rock hard and trembling between us—and nothing else mattered.
Eventually, Gabe moved out of the way, and I took over. A second later, Shahid’s cock got even harder between my lips. I glanced up to see the two of them kissing passionately—hands in each other’s hair, cheeks hollow as they explored each other’s mouths.
Fuck, I couldn’t get enough of this. Turning Shahid on, watching him make out with Gabe, my body still tingling from my orgasm—oh yes, I could get used to this.
Shahid moaned. Gabe whispered something to him, and Shahid’s cock thickened between my lips, and I ran my tongue around the head, and just like that, semen shot across the roof of my mouth. I kept stroking, kept teasing, and Gabe must’ve been kissing him, because his moans were muffled as he thrust between my lips.
Then he collapsed, and I stopped. Gabe and I both sat up while Shahid closed his eyes and panted.
“You all right?” Gabe asked playfully.
“Uh-huh.” Shahid scrubbed an unsteady hand over his face and said something I didn’t understand.
I did, however, understand the look Gabe shot me. I returned it, grinning wickedly. He leaned toward me and touched my face, then drew me in and kissed me.
We exchanged grins again before we turned our attention back to Shahid. Gabe kissed him. Then I leaned down and did the same.
He cradled the back of my head, his fingers twitching in my hair.
“You’re just full of surprises,” I murmured against his lips.
“How so?” His hand slid off.
I lifted myself up, glanced at Gabe and met Shahid’s eyes again. “I mean, we love each other, but you said yourself, you’re gay.”
He smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “Maybe it’s not as black-and-white as I thought. No, sexually, women aren’t my go-to, but in the moment, I want you to feel good as much as I want Gabe to.” He shrugged. “As long as all three of us are enjoying it, then I say anything goes.”
“I’m certainly not going to say no to that.” I ran my fingers down his arm. “Just, uh, say so if I go for something you’re not into.”
“Of course. That goes without saying for any of us.” He lifted his head and kissed me lightly. “So far so good, though, am I right?”
“Absolutely right,” I said.
“Oh yeah,” Gabe said.
We all settled in, cuddling close in my bed with the sheets pulled up to our waists. I was in the middle, Gabe’s arm draped over me and both guys propped up on their elbows.
“So, how exactly do we do this?” I asked. “The relationship part, I mean?”
Shahid shrugged, running his hand up and down Gabe’s arm. “Same way we’ve been doing it? I’ve never done a three-way relationship before, so your guess is as good as mine.”
“Same here,” Gabe said. “We probably just make it up as we go along.” He paused, lips quirked. “But, uh, what do we tell our families?”
I pictured the expressions on my parents’ faces. The shock, the horror, the did I hear you right? Shaking my head, I snorted with laughter.
Gabe did too. Then Shahid smirked, and all three of us burst out laughing.
“Let’s see how things go for a while,” Shahid said, still chuckling. “Then we’ll start breaking the news to people.”
Gabe raised his hand and his eyebrows. “I call dibs on my family not being the first ones we tell.”
“You could always tell them on Christmas,” Shahid said.
Gabe peered at him. “So you’re going to take Christmas off this year?”
“Absolutely not.” Shahid flashed him a grin. “That’s why I suggested—”
“You dick.” Gabe rolled his eyes but laughed.
Shahid laughed too but then turned serious. He laced his fingers between Gabe’s on my stomach. “Well, we can always draw straws over whose family we tell first, and we’ll all go together. To be honest, I don’t care what they think.” He met Gabe’s eyes and then mine. “I love you both. As long as we’re all happy, then everyone else’s opinions are about as relevant as Gabe’s sister’s opinion of me missing her wedding.”
Gabe laughed softly and kissed Shahid’s cheek.
“What about you?” Shahid asked me. “You’re happy with this?”
Was I? Some part of me thought I should’ve felt like a third wheel, or like they were only bringing me in out of pity. But I didn’t. And I couldn’t make myself believe for even a second that this was pity. I’d been in love before, but never like this. I’d been loved before, but never like this.
I looked at him. And at Gabe. And smiled.
“I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Epilogue
Shahid
A year later.
“Is this thing even going to fit through that door?” Kendra scowled at the couch we had turned on its side on the porch.
“We got our couch in there,” Gabe said. “We’ll find a way to get this one in.”
“That’s what she said,” I muttered.
They both burst out laughing.
Gabe rolled his eyes. “Really, Shahid?”
“What can I say?” I shook out my sore hands. “Kendra’s a bad influence.”
“Me? What the hell? You’ve been married to him for how long?” Kendra smirked. “I don’t think there’s anything left for me to corrupt.”
“Fair point,” I said.
“Hey!” Gabe glared at both of us.
“All right, all right. Focus, boys.” Kendra eyed the couch. “Well, maybe if Gabe and I lift—”
“No,” I said. “Gabe and I will move it. You’re still healing.”
She scowled. “I’m fine, Shahid. I—”
“Uh-huh. And your doctor and your mother will never let me hear the end of it if you overdo it again.” I pointed at one of the patio chairs. “Sit.”
She folded her arms. “Fine. I won’t lift anything.”
“Fair enough.” Under my breath, I added, “Stubborn as a mule.”
“I heard that.”
I chuckled, and Gabe and I continued trying to maneuver the sofa into the house. Normally, I’d have welcomed Kendra’s help, and she certainly wasn’t one to sit back and let other people do the work for her. As it happened, though, she was still recovering from a partial hysterectomy a couple of weeks ago, so she wasn’t allowed to lift anything. We’d have waited to move until she was back on her feet, but her house had sold two days before her surgery. Thank God she’d had the forethought to give Gabe and me power of attorney just in case anything needed to be dealt with while she was drugged up. I had taken a week off to stay with her while she recovered, and I’d ended up handling things with the Realtor in between making sure she heeded her doctor’s orders and took it easy.
And since she needed to empty the house, today was moving day. Presumably my brothers might still show up to help with the heavy lifting, but it was already two in the afternoon, so I suspected Gabe and I would be doing most of it.
“I swear our couch fit,” I said. “How did we do that?”
“No idea. But I think if we turn it a little bit this way, it’ll—” Gabe’s phone buzzed on the railing. “Oh for God’s sake. Now what?” He snatched it off the railing and looked at the screen, and immediately so
bered. Our eyes met.
My heart stopped.
He held the phone to his ear. Eyes locked on mine, he said, “Hey, Janice.”
I swallowed.
Gabe’s eyes lost focus. Kendra slipped her hand into mine. She squeezed my hand. I squeezed hers.
No one said a word. I could hear the social worker’s voice on the other end but couldn’t make out what she was saying. As Gabe listened, his eyebrows pulled together, eyes flicking from side to side as if he were reading something.
Then he jumped like she’d shocked him through the phone. “Oh my God.”
My pulse skyrocketed. Kendra and I exchanged wide-eyed glances.
“And the mother?” Gabe swallowed. “She’s aware of—”
My heart was going crazy now. We’d disclosed Kendra’s presence to the adoption agency months ago, though they understood she was going to be our roommate. With all the black marks against us on the paperwork, none of us were sure how a shared girlfriend would look. Even as our roommate, she’d been subjected to rigorous screening and background checks.
“Okay. Yeah. Can I call you right back?” Pause. “Thanks.” He hung up, and when he met my gaze, goose bumps prickled my spine. “There’s a woman who wants to meet us. About adopting her baby.”
I gripped Kendra’s hand for dear life. “She knows about me?”
“She knows,” Gabe whispered. “She picked us specifically because you’re Muslim.”
My throat tightened. “You’re serious.”
“Completely.”
He was struggling to contain his emotions just like I was. “I’ll call her back and set up a meeting. For tomorrow. So we can finish…” He gestured at the half-empty U-Haul.
“You guys shouldn’t hold this process up for me,” Kendra said. “I can stay here and keep an eye on things.”
“No.” I shook my head. “We want you there too.”
“But it’s—”
“He’s right,” Gabe said. “You’re part of this family too.”
She smiled, though her eyes still held a hint of sadness. “Well. I guess we’d better finish this today, hadn’t we?” With that, she headed to the truck, probably to pick up one of the boxes. I didn’t stop her—I’d carefully marked all the ones she wasn’t allowed to lift.
While Gabe called Janice back, I paused for a moment to take a quick drink.
So, it was happening again. And it was more promising than it had ever been. Tomorrow, we’d all go down to the adoption agency and meet the birth mother. Maybe, just maybe, we’d finally get to adopt.
A thought burrowed into the back of my mind, though. What about Kendra? Were we being fair to her? Especially when she was still healing from the surgery that had sealed the reality that she would never carry a child—hers, ours, anyone’s? She was moving in with us, fully a part of our lives, and just seeing her with Gabe’s newborn nephew had made me grateful we’d have her during our baby’s early months. She had a magic touch with infants.
And though I was pretty sure she thought she was hiding it, the pain in her eyes was palpable whenever she held Gabe’s nephew, or even when she saw a young child. Didn’t Gabe and I know that pain all too well? Looking around at everyone else’s children and wondering if it would ever be our turn?
Now, while Kendra’s belongings weren’t even unpacked yet in our house, we were quite possibly bringing a baby home. Behind closed doors, she’d be as much a parent as Gabe or me. Out in the open, she’d be the same thing she’d been for the last year. Our roommate. Our friend. Not the piece we’d never realized was missing from our family. We’d have to explain it to the child as he or she grew older. Somehow convey that it was only acceptable for two people to openly love him the way three people actually did.
And the more I thought about it, the less I could stomach the idea.
* * * * *
Gabe
Janice briefed us before the meeting. The mother was an Iraqi immigrant living on a student visa and didn’t believe she had the means to support herself and a child, particularly with at least five years of schooling left. The father—another student—had already agreed to terminate his parental rights. Though Janice hadn’t elaborated, she’d said that the young man’s family would “not be a welcoming environment for a child of this ethnicity”.
The mother wanted an open adoption. The father had no desire for contact.
And now, today, less than twenty-four hours after that call, at the office we’d visited a million times before, we were going to meet the mother.
The ride to the office was silent. Shahid drove. I sat in the back, staring out the window. Kendra was in the passenger seat, probably staring out as well. I couldn’t begin to guess what was on their minds. I wasn’t even sure how to describe what was on mine beyond reminding myself over and over again not to get my hopes up. Though this was the first time I was absolutely certain we wouldn’t be turned down because of Shahid’s religion, we’d been turned down enough times that I had no doubt they could find some reason to reject us now.
Shahid turned into the parking lot in front of the plain, three-story building where we’d met with birth mothers in the past. This was where we’d come for our initial consultation, and to jump through all the dozens and dozens of hoops required to be approved, to be considered by a birth mother, to go through the process, and where we’d sat down with Janice three separate times to be told that three separate mothers had changed their minds.
Coming into this parking lot was enough to make me mildly emotional. It took a lot to make me cry, but six times I’d sat in this lot and struggled to compose myself—three because I couldn’t believe we were finally adopting, three more because I was devastated beyond words that we suddenly weren’t. Thank God I’d always had Shahid with me, and we’d learned the first time to always come in his car, since he was more likely to hold himself together. In twelve years, I’d seen him cry a handful of times, and three of those were right here in this lot, though he’d pulled himself together long before I had.
Please, God, don’t let it turn out that way this time.
In silence, we all got out of the car and walked across the familiar lot, onto the curb and toward the tinted glass doors to the lobby.
Shahid reached for the polished chrome handle but balked and withdrew his hand.
“Shahid?” I said quietly.
He took a deep breath and faced us. “Before we go in, there’s something…”
Kendra and I glanced at each other.
“What is it?” I asked.
He stared at the ground for a moment, chewing his lip. Finally, he lifted his gaze. “I think we need to be honest with the mother. About our arrangement with Kendra.”
Kendra’s breath hitched. “Sweetie, you guys don’t have to…”
“I think we should.” He put a hand on the small of her back and looked in her eyes. “We’re not hiding you.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. “No, but you know this could make the adoption fall through, right?”
Shahid nodded. “I’d rather have it fall through now than have her find out later and try to sue us for custody.”
Holding his gaze, I grimaced. “It could be a long time before another—”
“I know.” Shahid pushed his shoulders back. “But if we’re going to be a family, I think we need to be honest about it. About Kendra’s part in this.”
Kendra touched his hand. “Shahid, I appreciate it. I really do. But I don’t want you guys losing out on a baby because of me.”
He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her temple. “Any baby we bring into our house will be ours. All of ours. You’re too much a part of our lives and our family to look people in the eye and lie about it.”
I wanted to protest. To tell him it was worth the little white lie so we could finally have the family we’d been hu
rting for. That we were so close, that we’d finally found someone who wouldn’t turn us away because he was Muslim.
But I couldn’t.
Because he was right.
I met his eyes. “All right. We’ll tell her.”
“Guys.” Kendra’s gaze flicked back and forth between us. “I don’t want to cost you this.”
“You’re not.” Shahid hugged her gently. “You’re not costing us anything. You deserve to be a part of this and not be kept a secret, and the birth mother deserves our honesty. If she’s trusting us to raise her baby, we should be open about our arrangement.”
Kendra swallowed. “I can’t argue with that, I guess. I don’t want to lie to her. But What if she turns you down?”
“Then we’ll all be all right,” I said quietly. “If it isn’t meant to be, then it isn’t meant to be.” I took her hand and squeezed it. “We’re already a family. If this is as big as our family gets, then…” I shrugged. “Then I’m happy with that.”
“Me too,” Shahid said.
Kendra’s lips pulled tight, but then she nodded. With a hint of a smirk, she said, “I’ve already got two boys, so—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Shahid elbowed her playfully and then drew her in and kissed her cheek. “All right. Shall we?” He gestured at the door.
“Let’s do this,” I said.
Shahid pulled open the door, and we filed inside.
Janice greeted us in the waiting area of the adoption agency’s suite, and took us back to the cozy room where birth parents and prospective adoptive parents met. The agency had gone to great lengths to give it a homey feeling—armchairs, an endless supply of coffee, pastel decorations on every surface—instead of the sterile, IRS-audit ambiance of the offices.
And in one of the chairs was a young, visibly pregnant woman. Nimat, Janice had told us over the phone. She was absolutely beautiful. Her complexion was quite a bit darker than Shahid’s, and her pale blue hijab made her blue eyes amazingly intense.
The Best Laid Plans Page 25
