Page 59 of Triple Play

“We do.” We. Like we’re a unit.

I look up, startled. A piece of hair drifts onto my face. Blake brushes it away, then kisses the tip of my nose.

“You always kiss me there,” I say.

He does it again. “Does it bother you?”

“You ever have a part of you that you love but that the world doesn’t seem to?” I stop myself before I can add, I used to dance for money. And I was good at it.

Blake doesn’t respond. Felix goes tense at my back. Neither of them answers, which is an answer in its own way—yes, they both have things about themselves that they have to pack away.

“This bed is bigger than I expected,” I add.

Blake relaxes. “Yeah.”

“Seems like we all fit.”

Felix laughs gently. “You’re not sending me back to the couch?”

“I think I can sleep—” A yawn interrupts me. “Anywhere, really.” I yawn again.

“I’ll get the lights,” Felix whispers. He gets up and dims them, returns to the bed as Blake and I are sliding under the covers. I hold up the comforter, and he eases himself in next to me. They each settle at my sides, feet brushing mine, like the beginning and end of my world.

Sleep comes easy—held between Felix’s strength and Blake’s soft murmurs. And as I’m drifting off, I wonder: now we’re together like this, how’re we supposed to ever be apart?

PART FIVE

Fayetteville to…?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Felix

We wake up pressed together. Someone must have kicked the blanket off in the middle of the night, because the only thing sheltering us is the thin top sheet.

Shira’s nestled against me, her back to my chest. Her toes are cold against my ankles; she mutters in her sleep, words that sound a lot like fuck off to whoever she’s arguing with in her dreams. My lips are against the back of her neck—a kiss like the press of her mouth to my palm last night.

Blake is lying just beyond her. My arm wraps around them both—around the slim curves of Shira’s ribs and the plains of Blake’s torso. His chest hair rubs soft against my hand.

Pulling them closer might wake them up. And when they wake up, this will all be over.

No, it is over; we agreed. Last night was like a meteor shower—a bright coincidence. A thing that happened that won’t happen again.

I tuck Shira closer to me, stroke my hand down Blake’s belly. He must be ticklish because his sleepy laugh vibrates my fingers. We could have this. If only…

I don’t have time to finish that thought. Blake startles awake. Instantly, he casts off the sheet, then pulls himself up and across the room quick like he’s been burned.

“Morning,” I call, and stop myself from asking, You good, bro? when it’s clear he’s not.

“Morning.” He practically jumps into a pair of gray joggers. “I’m gonna get coffee.” He pauses when Shira sits up. Her hair has slipped from its bun during the night, falling in a dark waterfall on her shoulders. I’m still lying close to her, but maybe I shouldn’t be. Maybe the clock has struck proverbial midnight.

Shira stretches her arms above her head. I resist the urge to kiss the wing of her shoulder blade, to tuck myself at her back and smell morning on her skin. “Babe, is everything okay?” she asks Blake.

“Yep, all good,” he says. “Just want to get moving. Ten hours of driving today.”

“Yeah.” Shira gives another prodigious yawn. “You sure something else isn’t the matter?”

“I’m fine.” But Blake plucks a T-shirt from his bag, pulls it on with a grunt, shoves his feet in his slides, and vacates the room.

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