by Chloe Adler
“I’m not a big V person.”
“You don’t have to come to the club for any other reason than to support your friend. Bring your guys. They can keep the other Vidal brother company.”
My whole body spasms, causing the phone to jump out and crash to the floor. I bend, picking it up, hoping the movement will cover up my obvious alarm.
Burgundy puts her hand on my arm. “Sorry to freak you out sweetie. Not any of yours. Nolan.”
I don’t bother covering up my audible sigh. “I’m that obvious?”
She scrunches up her face and even that expression looks lovely on her. “Transparent.”
Crap. I’ve got to work on that. Or not.
Burgundy throws me an understanding smile. “So we gonna order or what?”
I lean against the wall. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted anything.”
“Cute. Why the hell would I agree to meet you at my favorite restaurant if I didn’t want cake?” She thrusts a hand toward the wall plastered with glossy dessert photos and body-positive posters.
Big girls get more . . . everything. Above the letters, a hot surfer guy and his girlfriend eye a very buxom redhead on the beach. Both are grinning, but in an admiring way, not lascivious. The surfer’s model girlfriend holds out a thumbs-up.
The next poster is all red with the words If you’ve got it, jiggle it printed large in white lettering.
Another boasts a photo of a large, attractive man sitting at the counter here in Confections and three doe-eyed women staring at him, their eyes filled with desire. Below is I’d like a piece of him with my pie please. More posters like it decorate every available inch of the space.
They used to rotate the signs but now they just add more to every available wall space. And the reason they focus on larger bodies is because vampires get heavy when they eat human food and Confections is owned by vampires who got sick of the status quo. I’ve always admired that in Burgundy as well. A BBW who makes no apologies for who she is.
“Let’s go up together.” Burg slips out of the booth and I follow her to the counter.
The line is long for this time of day. Normally it’s a bustling after-hours establishment, since the under-twenty-ones can gather here and get high on sugar.
“What can I get you two?” the kid behind the counter asks when we reach the front.
“One slice of Hip Goddess and one Belly Banger please,” Burgundy rattles off without looking at the new menu on the wall behind him.
The kid moves to the case, extrapolating our orders and arranging them on plates.
“When did they change the names?” I was here a week ago and there was definitely no “belly banger” on the menu.
“A couple of days ago.” Burgundy smiles at the boy and he turns even redder. I wonder what shade he’d turn if she flashed him her hundred-watt smile instead of her ten-watter.
“A-a-anything to drink?” He looks around at the fountain drinks as if he’s forgotten how to pour them.
“We’ll grab water, thanks.” Burgundy blinks her big violet eyes at him and the boy’s mouth gapes open. She turns to me. “Is water okay with you?”
“It’s fine.” I grab our plates and make my way back to the booth, hoping Burg is following me instead of turning the boy into a puddle of goo.
I slide in and, thankfully, she joins me with two glasses of water. “Do you do that on purpose or do you have no control over it?”
“Over what?” She gives me a saucy wink. “Okay, so first I stuff my face and then we talk.” She puts the daintiest of forkfuls up to her lips and nibbles. I’ve seen this woman eat and dainty is not her word. She’s putting on a show for someone and I’m sure it’s not me.
“So . . .” I copy her movements, pushing a tiny forkful of belly banger, which really should be renamed belly bliss, into my mouth. “Have you seen any of the other Vidals at the V Club?”
She puts her fork down and rubs her palms together. “Oooh, like the sexy bookworm one with those black-rimmed glasses?”
My fork lands hard on my plate, the tiny bit of belly banger flipping off it and onto the table. I press my lips together, looking between her and the food.
Her mouth flies open. “You’re into him too?”
I meet her gaze, the violet intensity burning into me with a fierce love and acceptance. “But three partners? How can that even work?”
“Logistically? I’m happy to act it out for you with four dolls.”
My face reddens and I stab my fork at her. “That’s not what I meant and you know it!”
“It’s not?” She smiles too big, her eyes and fangs flashing.
“How does it all work out emotionally? Socially?”
“Ahhh.” She puts her fork and down leans back in her chair. “Those are the questions in need of answering within your particular unit.”
I place my own fork on my plate and lean closer.
“Communication is key. Clearly, everyone has to be on board with the relationship structure. Beyond that, there’s still a lot to navigate.”
I rub my forehead, pushing back a loose curl. “Okay, if they’re all on board, then what?”
She leans forward and rubs her hands together. “Then the real work begins.”
I make a noise in the back of my throat.
“First you find out what everyone is comfortable with in the bedroom and outside of it. There are more scenarios than you can dream of. For example, someone may not want you to go to dinner or have a date with just one person; they might feel more comfortable if everyone went together. Another person may not want you to engage in anything sexual with the others if they’re not present.” She picks up her fork again and puts another bite of dessert into her mouth.
That makes sense. “And then?” I follow suit.
“Well that bit never ends. Things change, so you have to keep having that conversation. The person who wasn’t okay with you going out with only one of your mates may change his mind later when he’s more secure in the relationship.”
I lick the end of my tongs. “It’s fluid.”
“It’s fluid,” she agrees. “I recommend weekly meetings. We have ours on Sunday nights. We air our grievances and concerns and then we talk about it. We discuss how everyone is feeling and then go over the rules again. They often change.”
“Rules?”
“That’s what they are sweetie, on a base level. They’re rules you set up for the relationship.”
“Sounds so clinical.”
“Practical. So no one’s feelings get hurt and so no one builds up a resentment. It works in every type of relationship, if people take the time to do it. Most are afraid to hear what their partner may say and most listen without really hearing.” She shrugs. “If everyone checked in on a regular basis instead of taking things for granted, then maybe the heteronormative ideal wouldn’t end in divorce as often.”
“You make it sound like this is how every person in every monogamous relationship should act.” I take another bite.
“Well I am a vampire Dominatrix stripper in a polyamorous triad.”
I cover my mouth to keep from spewing food all over the table. And her. “You do have a way of normalizing the abnormal.”
She leans in. “Do you want to know how to make it happen? Or it already has—and you want to come out to the world?”
I release the breath in a whoosh, my belly and lungs deflating. “I haven’t gotten quite that far yet. The seedling of possibility has just begun to sprout, pushing its green capped frond through the loosely packed dirt and turning its head up to smile at the sun.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Caspian
I lean against the wall outside the Harbor House Cafe, waiting for Iphi. I’m exhausted from working overtime at the station. The ghouls are making a mockery of the Edge’s reputation as a safe haven for Signum. Sheldon’s up in arms, trying to clean them off the streets. He has to fight the council at every turn. He wants a mandatory curfew since these thin
gs attack at night, but the council is too concerned about businesses losing revenue. You’d think losing customers would be a form of losing revenue too, but apparently not.
Rhys saunters up, his hair completely disheveled. “Hey.” His voice is monotone.
“What the hell, man? You’re supposed to be with Iphi, or does not letting her out of your sight mean something different to you?”
His eyes are vacant, almost rheumy, as though he’s been up all night. “I haven’t let her out of my sight, man. Chill out. I was watching from afar. You know how she likes her independence.”
“Where is she now then?” There’s something obviously wrong with my cousin but I can’t figure out what it is. If he were human, I’d assume he was sick. But vampires and shifters don’t get normal colds or the flu.
He looks down at his feet. “I lost track of her.” He kicks one dirty tennis shoe with the other. Weird, his shoes are usually spotless. Was he gardening or something?
I crack my knuckles to keep from punching him. When the urge doesn’t dissipate, I change the subject to keep from punching him. “Did she say she wanted to talk about anything specific? Do you know if she’s okay?” I peek at my phone again, wondering why she didn’t send a group text to both of us.
Rhys runs his hands through his messy hair. “Just that she was already on the pier and wanted to meet us both for lunch.”
“When do we tell her about the ghouls?”
“Uh . . .” He looks down at his feet again. “Let’s wait until after we’ve eaten.”
My shaggy hair lifts in the mild breeze as I nod. “Sure, man, I’ll follow your lead.”
“My heroes,” Iphi calls out from two yards away and we both rush to her. For the first time in public, she offers a display of affection. She throws her arms around me, pulling me in close for a tight hug and peck on the lips.
She turns to Rhys but stops short as he takes a quick step backward, avoiding contact with her. “I think I might be coming down with something, don’t want to get you sick.”
If she knows he’s lying, she doesn’t show it. “That’s terrible. I’ve been worried about you. I wasn’t even sure you were getting my texts. Where have you been?”
“Around . . .” He looks anywhere but at her. “Sorry, I’ve been a little preoccupied.”
“With?” I ask so she doesn’t have to.
“Just some work stuff with students and scheduling.” He motions toward the door. “Let’s go in.”
I open the door and hold it open for both of them, entering last. Iphi asks for a table near the back and Bea seats us. Iphi slides into the booth and I slide in across from her, motioning for Rhys to sit on her other side to flank her, but instead he slides in next to me.
He’s acting pretty guilty. Did he do something screwy like go on a date with another woman? I’ll wait until we’re alone again to pry it out of him.
“Coffee and water?” Bea asks, familiar with our routine.
“Coffee please,” says Rhys.
“Just water for me,” adds Iphi.
“I’ll take both, Bea, thank you. Not that it’s not great to see you, but isn’t this Amaya’s usual section?”
Bea hands us menus. “Yeah, but she’s not here anymore. I’m not really sure what happened exactly . . .” She darts a glance over her shoulder toward the closed office door in the back. “There’s some nasty rumors going around but I don’t believe ’em. That girl’s good people.”
Iphi looks up. “Wait, you mean the pretty African-American girl? The one whose family were some of the first humans to settle here? She was always so nice to me. Where is she now?”
Bea leans in and stage-whispers, “I heard she had to get a job at Ichor.”
Ahhh, vectums, where humans are nothing more than warm meat on the dinner menu. I would have thought she’d prefer to serve meals, rather than become one, but I guess it takes all kinds.
Rhys nods. “Yes, I saw her there once. She seemed very popular.”
I knock Rhys on his arm and he looks at me and shrugs. Everyone knows what really goes on at Ichor, and saying that girl is “popular” just sullies her reputation.
Bea hides her shock with a cough, then narrows her eyes at Rhys. “I didn’t realize you fed at Ichor.”
“Me either,” echoes Iphi, her chin trembling.
“I don’t.” Rhys looks between Bea and our girlfriend. “Feed, that is. I teach self-defense there to some of the employees.”
Iphi visibly relaxes and swipes at her nose with the back of her hand. “Of course.”
“That’s right,” says Bea. “I heard you’re an amazing teacher. Maybe I’ll check out one of your classes sometime.”
Rhys offers her a tight-lipped smile. “That’d be great.” He glances at Iphi and then fishes a card out of his pocket, handing it to Bea.
“Thanks.” She puts it in the front pocket of her apron. “Do y’all need some time to look over the menu?”
Iphi shakes her head, her blond curls flying. “I’m ready. You guys?”
“Yup,” we chorus.
After we order I lean back in the booth and focus on my girl. Our girl. Even though she’s wiping her hands on the legs of her pants, her cheeks appear rosy and there’s a mischievous gleam in her bright blue eyes.
“I asked you two to meet me here today for a couple of reasons.” Iphi stops to wait as Bea brings our waters and coffees for me and Rhys.
“We’re all yours,” says Rhys.
Her smile dims, then dies out altogether. “I hope so. I mean, that’s what I want. I’m sorry I’ve been so all over the place with you guys. But that ends now. I want us to talk, to come to an arrangement and to be . . . happy.”
Is she saying what I think she’s saying? Relief rolls through me, followed closely by joy. Just like that, everything is brighter. The red vinyl booths glow ruby red in the afternoon sunlight. The forks clink on plates like the tinkling of bells. Even the coffee tastes better between one sip and the next, richer and darker.
Rhys raises his eyebrows. They look grimy somehow. Of course, the guy hasn’t had anywhere to shower, but it’s not the dirt that bothers me. It’s the distant confusion in his eyes. We’re getting the girl of our dreams, doesn’t he realize? “Happy, yes.” He glances at me. “Yes?”
“That sounds wonderful. It’d be nice to be official.” Better lock this down before she can change her mind.
“Exactly,” agrees Rhys. Finally, signs of life from my cousin. “We’d like to use labels. Refer to you as our girlfriend and have you refer to us as your boyfriends.”
Iphi tilts her head down, peeking up at us through her near-white lashes. “I’d like that too. I’d also like to know that you two aren’t seeing other people. I know it’s a lot to ask. Maybe too much, but I just couldn’t bear it.”
Rhys and I exchange looks. Time to come clean if you are, buddy. But he shakes his head, as do I. We both look back at our girl. Woman. “Nope,” I answer for the both of us, hoping I speak the truth for him too. “We’re yours.”
Rhys shifts in his seat, the smile taped to his lips a little plastic.
Bea returns with our food and we lean back, waiting in silence while she distributes it. Rhys isn’t eating. Not that he does usually, having to watch his “figure.”
I reach for the salt and then, not wanting to be rude, hand it to Iphigenia, who takes it and salts her fries before handing it back to me. Her posture is stiff and she’s biting her lower lip; obviously, there’s more.
“Is that it?” Rhys isn’t usually so obtuse.
Iphi sighs and puts a fry in her mouth, chewing slowly. We wait until she’s done. “No, there’s something else.”
I steeple my hands over my plate, not ready to pick up my sandwich until she speaks again.
“I’m more than happy with what we have, the three of us, but . . .”
Ruh roh. I brace myself, dropping my hands back to the vinyl booth and clutching the front of it.
“I find m
yself attracted to someone else and I want your permission to explore it.”
Rhys lets out an audible breath but I keep holding mine in. The air in my lungs feels like it’s been transmuted into gasoline fumes and she’s just lit a match.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, my brain screams but I keep a smile plastered on my face.
“And who’s the lucky man? Or woman? Or other?” Rhys asks.
Her face blushes a pretty pink and I talk myself off the cliff. This is the woman I love, the woman I’ve chosen to love. I shake my head. She’s young and hasn’t had as much time to explore as we have. If she wants to cuckold us, while I never saw myself in this position, I’d give it a try. For her. Pussy whipped, Thorn’s voice rings in my head.
“Dominic.” She bites her lip and then stuffs three french fries into her mouth before looking back up, her gaze traveling back and forth between us.
Rhys slumps against the back of the booth and shakes his head as if to clear it. But all the movement does is throw his disheveled hair over his eyes completely. His eyes are closed now. “I can live with that.” He opens them and looks at me. “Cas?”
I’m supposed to make a decision right now that could affect the future of us all? How can Rhys make this seem like such an easy decision?
He and Iphi both watch me. Shit. I’m the deciding factor here. The hinge. If I say no, I’ll be the asshole.
“I want you to be honest.” Iphi’s bright blue eyes are on me. “If it makes you uncomfortable . . .”
“No.” I hold up a finger. “I’m worried it’ll change our dynamics and I love what we have.”
“Yes, that makes sense.” She licks her lips, her pink tongue matching the pretty blush that spreads across her cheeks and over the bridge of her nose. “But what if we try it and see? If it doesn’t work or if there’s nothing real between me and Dom, then I’ll know and it’ll be done.”
I’m reticent to agree with this, but what else can I do? I want to give her everything her heart desires. And if anyone has enough love and room in her life for all of us, it’s Iphi, right?
“What is it then?” She tilts her head and her curls fall over one shoulder.
