Page 58 of Repluse

When I reach them, they’re apparently undeterred by my unworthiness, because without a word, they move in, and I’m sandwiched between them.

“You doing better?” Frankie asks against my ear.

“I wasn’t until I saw both of you standing here looking good enough to eat,” I confess.

“Eat, lick, suck, fuck. All of that can be arranged later, but to have the energy to do all of that, I need breakfast,” Sam says before kissing my cheek and moving away.

Fucking hell.

After fightingthrough peak hour Melbourne traffic for half an hour, we’re now seated at a Greek restaurant in Oakleigh, staring at our breakfast menus. Well, the boys are staring at their menus while I can’t stop staring at the boys. They’re wearing glasses. As soon as the menus were set down in front of us and we’d placed our coffee orders with the waitress, they’d both pulled out a pair of readers from their inside pockets and put them on.

Sam’s are round and oversized with black frames. Frankie’s are equally oversized, but rectangular in shape with chunky frames, and fuck me, if I wasn’t fantasising about riding both their faces at once earlier, I’m now doing it wondering how they can keep their glasses on while it happens.

“Whaddya fancy, Mils?” Sam asks as he looks up at me.

“You,” I confess with zero fucks given. “And you.” I nod towards Frankie, who has now looked up to meet my probablylust-filled gaze. “Both of you. I want you to make the tops of my legs sore with that stubble on your jaws, but you’ve got to keep the glasses on while you do it.”

Sam bites down on his bottom lip. Frankie gives me a sideways smile before turning to Sam and nodding.

“You’re right. What you said earlier? You’re right.”

I open my mouth to ask what he’s talking about, but Sam gets there first.

“Told ya. She’s a little witch.”

My mouth drops open. I’m not sure if I’m insulted or I like the idea.

“A sexy little witch, who has both of us under her spell,” Sam continues, and I decide I definitely like it.

“Mila the Sexy Witch,” Frankie states.

I grin.

“Made up your mind?” our waitress asks as she returns.

“Oh, I know what I’m having,” Frankie says.

“My mind’s definitely made up,” Sam adds with a wink.

“I’m ready,” I tell them both, then order an omelette because I couldn’t see straight or focus enough to look at the menu.

After filling our bellies,we’re all enjoying our second coffee when Frankie’s phone vibrates from where he has it set down on the table. The name ‘Bella’ lights up the screen.

“Excuse me, I need to get this,” Frankie says before he stands and answers the call. “Morning, Bells. Hope I didn’t wake you with my message earlier,” I hear him say before exiting the restaurant. I feel Sam’s eyes on me and meet his gaze from across my cup.

“You wanna tell me about the meltdown you had while on the phone to Frankie earlier?” he asks.

“Not really,” I tell him honestly. “But I don’t suppose that’s an option, is it?”

“We can leave it if you really don’t wanna talk about it.” He shrugs.

“Is that why you’re here? Did he get straight on the phone and say…”—I make my voice deep and give my best Frankie impersonation—“fuck me, she’s lost the plot, and I can’t deal with this shit on my own.” I sip my coffee, put down my cup, and slouch back in my seat like a petulant teenager because I’m both paranoid and pissed off that the pair of them have been talking about me.

Sam says nothing, though, so I continue.

“And now you’re here, giving sexy psychologist vibes in your glasses, trying to get to the bottom of my latest emotional outburst?”

“This one right now, or the one you had earlier?”

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