Page 54 of Four on the Floor: A Menage Romance

I don’t know why she bothered wearing the bikini. Gavin and I didn’t bother wearing anything, and she was naked about thirty seconds after she got in the water.

“We’ll get out in a few,” I say, draping an arm over her chest. “My balls are going to freeze off when I get out of the spring and I’d like to put that off for as long as possible.”

Larkin laughs. Gavin sighs, probably thinking about the imminent freezing of his own balls.

“There’s a hot tub right by the pool, indoors,” he points out, his voice low and lazy. “Why is it we never go in there?”

“This one’s got scenery,” Larkin says. “Plus, it’s… therapeutic, probably.”

“And we get a workout when we sprint inside, stark naked and dripping wet,” I add.

They both laugh, and then we all go quiet, just enjoying the moment and each other. It’s things like this that make me wonder about Larkin, yearn for something more with her — the way that she’s both incredible in bed and a good conversationalist; the way she begs me to fuck her in the ass and then argues with me at length about whySense and Sensibilityis the best Jane Austen novel.

It’s obviously not, of course. It’sPride and Prejudice, and everyone knows that. Even I’ve got a slight crush on Mr. Darcy, and I’m as straight as they come.

But I don’t know how this is going to work in the real world, one girl with three men who are absolutelywildabout her — four, if Slate ever gets his shit together and admits to himself how much he wants this.

It’s not normal. It’s not regular. How do you even set up a household of five people? Where would Larkin sleep? Would there be a schedule? Who gets to take her out on Valentine’s Day? What does she tell her parents — the truth?

But all that takes a backseat to a simple truth: she has her own life already, and it’s entirely separate from us. We’re a huge rock band, and we’ve spent most of the last few years constantly on the road, and that’s unlikely to change any time soon.

Being on the road is miserable for relationships, and we all know it. Hell, I’m almost certain that’s why Slate has been so hesitant with her — he knows better than any of us how hard being on the road all the time is, and how likely any relationship is to end badly.

Reallybadly.

I look back to the sky, my arms and shoulders out of the hot spring but still bathing in the steam even as the zero-degree air swirls around us. I’m half freezing, and half overheated, and the overall effect is heady and wonderful.

There are more clouds now than there were when we got here an hour ago. Now they’re piling up over half the sky, their bloated edges bright with moonlight, their bellies and centers dark in the night. Larkin’s looking at them, too, and I wonder what she’s thinking. I always wonder what she sees when she looks at things like this, whether I look at this and see clouds and see looks at it and sees the complicated interplay of light and dark, how she considers the color of moonlight and the angle of shadow.

As we all gaze in the same direction, a single white flake falls from the sky. It takes a long time, almost like it’s dawdling downward, taking its sweet time before hitting the layer of steam over the hot tub and evaporating, almost instantly.

Then there’s another, two more, four more. One lands on Larkin’s upturned lips, and her tongue darts out, licking the small cold spot.

“Right, I think that’s a sign,” Gavin says, pushing himself upright in the spring, splashing the hot water over his shoulder as he sinks down, crouching in the middle for a few last moments of warmth.

“Okay, okay,” Larkin grumbles, pulling herself off my shoulder and getting low in the water, warming up as well.

I look at the sky one last time, over at the storm that’s coming in soon. Already, the breeze has picked up slightly, whisking away some of the steam over the spring, bringing in a sharp chill.

“On three?” I say, mentally preparing myself to beverycold for the ten seconds it’ll take to sprint inside.

“One,” Gavin starts. “Two…”

“Three!” Larkin squeals, and we all explode out of the hot spring and book it for the hotel.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Larkin

As it turns out,being the only girl along with four guys at an artists’ retreat in the mountains has some perks.

Well, besides the companionship. And the sex. And the fact that I somehow currently have three boyfriends, and they’re all way better than any boyfriend I’ve ever had before.

I didn’t lift a single finger to get ready for this alleged storm of the century. They battened down all the hatches, locked down the hotel, got the grounds ready, made sure everything was shut tightly and storm-proofed, and double-checked all their preparations with Poppy’sverythorough ‘In Case of Severe Storm’ list.

I tried, I swear. I had the list too, but every time I said I was going to go take care of something, one of the guys just smiled and told me he’d already done it. There was seriously nothing left for me to do.

I couldn’t even get the flashlights ready. By the time I got there on the list, Slate had already gotten them out of the closet and put them where we could get to them easily, on a table in the lobby. He’d even double-checked that there were plenty of batteries and put extras on the table next to them.

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