Page 78 of Triple Play

“Hey,” Felix says, “c’mere.”

I do, slow, until I’m standing in the open vee of his legs, the heat of his gaze warming my skin. He traces a hand down my arm—no place particularly sexy, but someplace he might not have touched when I danced.

“I was thinking,” Felix says, “that your man might like a show.”

It takes a second to sink in. A show. Something for an audience. Slowly, I smile. Turn to Blake. “Would you like that—seeing us together?” And my voice doesn’t trip on together even if my heart does.

It isn’t that warm in here, but Blake’s hair is un-pomaded, his smile similarly easy. “Yeah, I think I really would.” A chair sits to one side of the bed as if it was put there for just this purpose. Blake seats himself in it, legs wide, shirt collar unbuttoned. “Show me how it’s done.”

So I plant my knees on either side of Felix’s legs and lower myself onto his lap. I haven’t done this since that fateful day in June, but it’s not something you really forget. I start slow, rolling my hips, barely brushing him.

Felix’s hands find their way to my waist. His stubble scrapes my neck, an approximation of a kiss. At the club I might have leaned away to maintain the illusion of distance. Now I moan. “Do that again.”

He mumbles into my shoulder. “Fuck, M— Shira.”

A slip. I can’t tell if Blake noticed, but it can’t happen—not here, not when we’re so close to escaping from all this unscathed. I glare a reminder at Felix.

“What’s Shira mean?” he asks. “Like as a name?”

“Is that really what you want to ask right now?” I laugh. “And it means song.”

“Song.” He says the word like he’s chewing on it, like he’s now realizing Melody came from my need for a silly pun. To be a me who wasn’t exactly me but wasn’t exactly not me. “It suits you.” Then he tilts my chin to meet his. “I want to kiss you.”

Across from us, Blake sits up slightly, not like he’s objecting but in order to better watch.

Kiss me. What I ordered Felix to do in June before I pushed him away. What would the world have been like if I’d said yes? The club in Worcester is only an hour’s drive from Boston. Distances always seem small until you have to travel them.

Maybe he’s thinking about the same thing because he pulls me to him. I go. For a brief second, I worry we won’t fit together how we used to—that in the time apart we grew out of each other’s shapes. Until I settle against the solid wall of his chest, held in the strength of his arms.

And if Felix’s and my first kiss was a spark, this one is an ember, something slow smoldering.

We kiss, and kiss again, and kiss again, deeper, tongues sliding together, mouths parting only to reunite.

A groan works its way up his throat, like he missed this the way I did. Like he spent the past eight months thinking about it too.

When we pull back from each other, panting, Blake’s eyebrows are raised. “That was…” he begins, and fuck, he has to suspect something. “You look amazing together.”

The pounding in my chest—equal parts nerves and guilt—settles. Felix’s cheeks heat faintly, maybe at the praise, maybe because, like me, he’s worried we’re about to be caught lying to Blake. “Um.” Felix’s voice is hoarse. “Thank you.”

“Don’t stop on my account.” Blake runs his fingers over the front of his pants, then pulls back like he’s trying not to touch himself. As if he’s still laboring under the idea he shouldn’t.

I slink off Felix’s lap. Make my way to the chair where Blake’s sitting. Ease myself onto his lap. He’s hard like he was at the restaurant. By now he must be absolutely aching. I reach down and grasp him through his pants. “That for us?”

Blake blinks at me a few times, then nods, slow, an admission. He doesn’t say anything. Words seem just beyond him. Something clenches in my chest, fierce and protective.

“Hey,” I whisper, “you can stop if it’s too much.”

He shakes his head. “You’re never too much.”

I snort at that. “Nearly everyone who’s ever met me disagrees.” Except him. Except Felix. How’re we supposed to go back to our normal lives and pretend this didn’t happen?

“Don’t know if you noticed,” Blake says, “but the world’s full of fools.” He kisses me, his arms winding around me, his hips rolling with certain urgency that makes me grind against him.

“My belt’s digging into me,” he says, when we pull back from each other. “Can’t imagine it feels too good for you either.”

“Are you asking if you both should take off your pants?”

Blake’s laugh lights his eyes. “Maybe.”

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