He didn’t make love the way Derek did, hard and deep and fast. Brett went slow, inch by inch, his cock moving into me in a leisurely possession. He was in no hurry, as if he knew we had all the time in the world, as if his patience would have a payoff. He touched my breasts, ran his hand down my side in a way that was half ticklish but made me grit my teeth. The truth was, I loved it, loved the way he was filling me more with every slow grind, loved the way he worked his way up until we were face to face with my legs wrapped around him. I touched his hair, his neck, his ears, his face. My eyes locked on his, the intimacy of the act striking me as deeply as he was within me. I was saying, ‘yes’ again and again.
He kissed me, breathless, his tongue in my mouth, dragging his lips away for breath and kissing me again. I felt him spasm within me, on top of me, felt the tremor in those powerful arms that sheltered me. He kept pumping into me as he came, roaring his completion. He reached between us, rubbing insistently at my clit, his mouth fastening over my nipple and sucking it in deeply, his mouth pulling it harder until I bucked against his hand and sobbed, wrung out by my third orgasm. He withdrew from me, gathered me into his arms, and laid me beside Derek, who had fallen asleep on the other side of the bed. Derek turned toward me and draped an arm over me. I murmured something unintelligible, and my eyes dropped shut.
12
When I woke, I wondered if it had been a dream. The hottest, sexiest dream of my life. I kind of hoped it was, since a dream wouldn’t make my living situation so damn awkward. And a dream didn’t make me some kind of crazy slut. I opened my eyes. Derek’s back was turned to me, bare and muscled in the morning light. I covered my face with my hands. I couldn’t believe what I’d done. How it could be so good and so wrong all at once.
I peered through my fingers and saw that at least I was only in bed with one man. Brett wasn’t beside me. He’d probably gone back to his own room. I sat up, holding the sheet over me. Because I had decided belatedly that modesty was a value that was important to me, maybe. As I started to get up, Brett walked in with a cup of coffee. I couldn’t meet his eyes.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
“No!” I said a little too quickly, taking the mug and sipping it. He’d used the caramel apple creamer I liked. Tears pricked my eyes at his thoughtfulness, at the friendship I had endangered with my recklessness. I pressed my lips together.
“Thank you,” I said. Then I took the sheet and the coffee into the bathroom with me and showered.
The last thing I wanted to do was talk about it. But it was all I could think about. I dressed and collected my laundry off Derek’s bedroom floor and without another word to either of them, I went to my internship. It was a hectic day, which was for the best because it left me with little time to think. Still, I found time. In the spare seconds when I wasn’t unjamming the copier or looking for more paperclips or answering an unsolicited email, there were flashes of memory. Derek’s face hovering an inch from mine in the truck as we steamed up the windows. Brett’s mouth on my nipple drawing it deep between his lips. All of it kept me on edge throughout the day.
I couldn’t help but feel like I’d made a huge mistake. They’d rescued me by the side of the road, given me a place to stay, given me their friendship, and I’d used them both. Sure, they’d been every bit as on board with it as I’d been last night, but what if they too thought it had been a colossal clusterfuck? I hadn’t heard from either of them all day, which was unusual. They always texted me, and Derek typically sent hilarious Snapchats. I went to eat with Celia and downed an entire double bacon burger and onion rings. Some people can’t eat when they’re upset. I wasn’t one of them. I’m the one who asks for extra cheese on my burger and a milkshake to top it off.
“What is going on?” Celia asked, studying my face.
“Nothing. Just hungry,” I said around a mouthful of burger.
I checked my phone to see what Ainsley had to say about the situation. I’d messaged her that I slept with my roommate, not that there were three of us in the bed, but that he hadn’t texted me all day. No word from my best friend who probably had to concentrate on her work instead of dealing with my angst.
“You eat like a salad normally,” she said, “or half a sandwich. Never this. This is like eating with my younger brother. I’m worried you’re gonna eat the salt shaker next. Seriously, girl. What is going on?”
“Nothing. Maybe I’ve got PMS. I was craving a burger,” I said.
“Whatever. You know I don’t believe that for a minute. How’d your research project go?”
“Good. I’m really proud of it. How’s the writer doing?”
“She’s out of the hospital and working from home today. She’ll be back Monday. You’ll love her. She’s great, really smart.”
“Awesome. I’ll be stuck making copies forever,” I said with a grunt.
“Um, that’s kind of what an unpaid internship is all about,” Celia reminded me. “Besides, you have to put in your dues before you climb up with ranks.”
I sighed and nodded my head. I was being a real asshole.
“You’re right. I’m just in a mood. How’s your day been?”
“Good. Liz is out of the office so mostly everything goes to voicemail. I’ve gotten caught up on a lot without the phone to worry about.”
“That’s good. How’s it going at the new apartment?” I asked.
“Oh, I’ve pulled up the carpet, and there’s hardwood! I’m watching YouTube videos at night to figure out how to refinish the floors. I can’t wait.”
“That’s awesome. If you need any help, let me know. I’m not that handy at home repairs, but I can bring wine and supervise,” I said.
“Oh, I’ll need wine and supervision. I’ll call you when I’m ready for it,” she said. She took a last sip of her water and looked at her watch. “Ugh. We need to get back.”
“I know,” I said, stuffing the last two onion rings in my mouth and leaving a tip on the table.
All afternoon, I thought about Brett and Derek. I almost texted either or both of them, but I had no idea what to say. I’m sorry I fucked both of you? It was amazing? I’m sorry? Let’s pretend that never happened? Let’s do it again? I couldn’t even untangle how I felt about it, much less how to put that into words.
When I got to the bar, I was nervous. They’d come in during my shift, I knew, because they always did. I didn’t know how to act around them now, or what I’d say. I knew it would be a relief to see them after being in suspense all day, worrying if they thought ill of me or if they regretted it. I regretted the angst and the drama of the aftermath, but I was pretty sure after thinking about it most of the day that I didn’t regret what we did. I had some swampy feelings that I was promiscuous , but that was my father’s voice in my head, not mine. I hadn’t been coerced. I hadn’t done anything I didn’t want to do. So all that held me back was concern about how Derek and Brett felt, and the qualms that came from my very traditional upbringing.
The other workers noticed I was quieter than usual, but I did my job and didn’t make too many mistakes even though I was preoccupied, watching the door, checking the stools where they usually sat. Halfway through my shift, they still hadn’t come in. It was at least an hour later than they usually arrived. I swallowed hard. The suspense was killing me.
13
On my break, I called Derek. I figured he was the more likely one to tell me the problem straight out. He was more outgoing and straightforward than the more reserved and sensitive Brett. So I called him for my answer.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Hi,” I said, my voice sounding small. I cleared my throat, suddenly not wanting to talk about it, seized with something like panic, “Um, you guys didn’t come in tonight and I just wanted to see if something was wrong. If, you know, I fucked everything up last night.”
“What?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.
/> “ You know. For getting wasted and using my two best friends like they’re my personal harem,” I muttered, hoping really hard that no one else would come into the bathroom while I made my call.
Derek laughed. It was a loud whoop. I felt lighter at once.
“ Babe, we’re shorthanded at work. Flu’s got three guys down so we’re working a double shift. We should be off in time to pick you up at closing.”
I leaned back against the wall, sagged with relief. I could hear talking in the background of the call and a bark of laughter.
“Yeah, I told Brett you thought we were pissed off. He thinks it’s funny, too,” Derek said reassuringly.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I got all caught up in my own head, thinking I’d screwed everything up for good. You’re both the greatest, and I don’t want to do anything to hurt either of you, ever.”
“You’re too much,” Derek said, “You didn’t take advantage of us. Way I see it is, we went out, it got a little wild, we had some fun.”
I smiled at Derek’s typical upbeat view of things. I liked that about him. He didn’t overcomplicate things, and he didn’t look for ways to be offended. I told him so.
“Thanks for being so cool about everything. I felt weird about it,” I admitted, “I still do, but you and Brett being so understanding has really made me feel better.”
“Of course. It’s gonna take a lot more than a great night of crazy hot sex to get rid of us. See you later,” he said, “We just got a call.”
I went back behind the bar feeling more at ease, more focused. I laughed and smiled with the patrons and made sure everyone was having a good time and had their drinks refilled quickly. The knot that had clutched in my stomach all day finally loosened.
14
Right before closing, Derek came into the bar. He looked tired—which pulling a sixteen-hour shift will do. I didn’t overthink it. I just reacted. I darted across the room and hugged him. Not a take-me-now move, but a glad-to-see-you hug. He hugged me back, lifting me a little off my feet, and all the pieces of me that had felt scattered all day slid back into place. I could finally take a deep breath.
I stepped back, smiled, got behind the bar and pulled him a beer. He drank gratefully. I grabbed the artichoke dip and chips I’d put aside for myself and offered it to him. He scooped savory dip on a chip and started shoveling it in.
“Brett’s in the truck?” I said. He nodded, mouth full. I leaned on the bar, glad to see him eating, relaxed, friendly with me.
“He can come in and have a drink,” I offered.
“He’ll eat my dip,” Derek said through another mouthful. I laughed and texted Brett to come on inside.
When he walked in, I felt a little shy. I’d been able to run up and hug Derek, but for some reason, I felt bashful around Brett. Maybe I didn’t think I knew him as well, or maybe what we’d done—missionary style with Derek asleep on the bed, had felt more intimate, less playful. Either way, I just nodded my head at him and got him a drink. He grabbed a handful of chips off the appetizer I’d given Derek, and the two of them squabbled about who was eating the most dip. It was like a soothing balm to me, their talk and laughter, the closeness I felt with them.
When I was done cleaning up and the guys had polished off all of the dip, we headed out. I sat between them in the truck as usual. I felt at sea, unsure of what to say.
“We have to talk,” Brett said.
“Wait’ll we get home,” Derek said.
“All right. Burgers?” he said.
“You just ate!” I said indignantly, a little sorry that I hadn’t snatched any chips.
“You haven’t,” Derek pointed out. I shrugged.
“I had a burger for lunch.”
“Taco?”
“No, I could eat another burger. I was just saying.”
We drove through, and I remembered the first night we met, how they took me to get something to eat and gave me a place to stay. How safe I’d felt with them from the start. This hadn’t changed anything. They were still taking care of me, still men I could trust.
As we sat elbow to elbow in the crowded cab of the truck, eating delicious salty food out of greasy wax paper, I just soaked in the contented silence. I stole a fry from Brett’s box while he made a left turn, and then I grinned at him. Derek grabbed one of my onion rings.
At home, I started pacing back and forth in front of the TV. The guys sat down at their usual seats in their recliners, and I faced them.
“I know we have to talk,” I said, feeling anxious again, “but before we start, I just want to say again that I never meant to hurt either of you or to take advantage of your friendship.” I bit my lip.
Derek turned to Brett, “I told you she thinks she roofied us. Lynette’s on a guilt trip.”
Brett gave a half shrug, “Some people feel guilty about sex. It’s our culture.”
“See, that’s understanding of you. I think it’s kind of insulting that she thinks we didn’t make our own choices,” Derek said, turning to me, “We’re both attracted to you. We’re consenting adults. So enough with the blame and crap. No one needs you to feel bad about this or to be sorry.”
I nodded and found myself unable to speak for a minute.
“You know, you can sit down,” Brett said. “Your pacing is making me nervous.”
I walked over a little hesitantly and sat down on the arm of his recliner. He hooked an arm around my hips.
“This is weird for us, too. Brett and I are best friends but we’re not, you know, that friendly with each other,” Derek said expressively.
“We don’t pick up women and have threesomes,” Brett clarified, “It’s not a habit of ours.”
“I never did a three way before last night,” Derek said.
“Me either,” I said.
“I had,” Brett said. I was a little surprised but tried not to show it.
I patted his arm, not sure of what to say to that.
“I liked it,” I said, blushing, “There, I said it.”
“Uh, I think we both noticed that you liked it,” Derek said archly. They both laughed, and I joined in.
“Okay, so maybe it was obvious.”
“You said oh god so many times I was a little worried you were trying to cast out a demon,” Brett said. Derek snorted with laughter. I turned red and tried not to laugh.
“Five stars and you’d recommend it to a friend?” Brett said.
“Who knew you were the funny one?” I said, “I guess you just needed to get laid. Brought out your sense of humor.”
“I’ve always been the funny one,” he said with his dry sarcasm.
“Seriously though Lyn, how are you feeling about all of it?” Brett asked.
I cleared my throat. “You mean about the—"
“Threesomes? Ménage a trois? Three-way?” Derek supplied.
“Yeah, that. I mean, I was always a total good girl. I wanted my dad to be proud of me, and I was too shy to do anything wild. I never even tried beer till I was eighteen. So this is very new for me. I didn’t know this was something I would ever do or be interested in. So it’s strange for me. But, as I said, I liked it. Maybe it’s because it was with you two and you make me feel safe.”
“I’m glad it was with you, with someone who cares enough to be concerned with how we felt about it. For anything like that to work, there has to be a level of trust and safety. I think the fact that we have that together, the three of us, already, is—"
“Amazing,” Derek supplied.
“A surprise,” I said.
Brett put and arm around me and kissed my head. “That’s my girl,” he said fondly.
“Our girl,” Derek corrected.
I turned so my face was buried in Brett’s shirt, still feeling shy even with all the frank talk.
“I am your girl,” I said to them both, “One of the guys who works at the pub asked me out last week and I didn’t even consider it. Because I feel like I kind of have what I need already. I live wi
th two great guys, and you are my best friends,” I said.
“I don’t want you seeing anyone else,” Derek said, “And I don’t want to see anyone else either. It would be weird. I don’t want to let anyone else in to this.”
“I don’t want to,” I confided, “I’d rather have burgers with you guys, ignore ESPN, snuggle up, and relax.”
“There’s a problem here,” Brett said, “We bought these recliners. You don’t have your own chair. We need—a couch. A big one. Because otherwise you have to pick one of us to sit with. We’d have to take turns being the one you curl up with. And I’m fine sharing with Derek, but I’d still mutter ‘bastard’ under my breath if you sat with him instead,” Brett said. I laughed.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he said, looking a little embarrassed. Derek laughed, too.
“I think we need to buy a sectional. One of those big awesome ones with a recliner on both ends and, like, cup holders,” Derek said.
“Yeah, we can do that. Anyone want to go furniture shopping this weekend?” Brett asked.
“I’m in,” I said, smiling, feeling warm and flattered.
“So, this is going to work for us,” Derek said, “We’re in this together. We keep it exclusive, no seeing other people for as long as this lasts. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” I said.
“Yeah,” Brett said.
“I think we should make a date to check in, make sure everyone wants to continue,” Brett said.
“That’s smart,” I said, “Although I feel pretty spoiled so it isn’t like I’m going to go, oh I’m bored with you two hot men.”
“Sunday brunch,” Derek said. Derek, the least likely human to ever say the word ‘brunch’. “We’ll have a brunch once a month and talk about whatever’s bugging us, just get in touch with each other.”
“I think there’s going to be plenty of touching,” Brett said.
“God, you’re the worst,” I laughed, “this is serious.”
One Lucky Girl Page 7
