Page 28 of Lucy and Her Wicked Three

"Why?" I snicker, playfully smacking his arm. We're sitting side by side, somehow getting closer without trying. His body feels hard and warm beside mine, making me feel like a teenager sitting next to her first crush. I feel every movement, every subtle brush against my arm, every time his knee knocks mine, wondering if it's intentional.

"I don't want to bore you, is all."

"Well, you said you're testing for graphic glitches, right? You play and I'll look at the bigger picture. I'll let you know if something looks funny. I'm sure if I didn't have a task, I'd be bored just watching you play. But this is good. I'm good," I reassure him.

"Alright." This time he adjusts in his seat, intentionally moving closer, so our legs are touching, the length of his thigh pressing against mine.

He restarts the game but I can't pull my eyes off his face. The warmth, the kindness, the ease at being around him. It's so… simple. It feels like we've done this a hundred times.

How is it possible I'd feel this strongly about him? I barely know him, and I've spent the last six months feeling this intensely about someone else. Is it possible to feel this way about more than one person?

I always pictured poly relationships like the ones on TV. Lots of drama, more shared housework and parenting, in-fighting, less of… this. Whatever this is.

I drag my gaze away from Silas's profile. He's grinning like he knows what he's doing to me, but doesn't call me on it. We spend the next two hours focusing on his game, and since I take it seriously because it's his work, I don't find it boring at all. He pauses the game whenever I have a question or see something that's off. I keep getting off the couch to point close to the screen, and Silas listens to everything I say. Sometimes explaining if something I see is actually intentional, other times, making notes on his phone when he agrees.

"We should hire you to go over all our final products. I like how thorough you are."

"Oh I don't know how helpful I actually am."

"Nah, I'm serious. When we send these games to the buyers for testing, there's always a ton more tweaking to do, depending on the console they're meant for, so it's never fully finished before we sell it. But having to fix these glitches in addition to platform changes is a pain in the ass, so it's nice to catch as many as we can in the early stage. This was really helpful, Lu. Thank you."

Shyly, I shrug and burrow further into the couch. I may snuggle a little closer to Silas in the process.

He keeps working, muttering glitches to himself every now and then. Completely relaxed, I lose track of what we're doing,too warm and happy, lulled by the steady low hum of the game and Silas's voice. At some point I drift to sleep, turning his arm into a pillow.

Chapter 11

Silas

My avatar keeps dying, but the only way to play better is if I have more use of my arms, but I'm not waking Lucy for anything. I can't imagine how tired or worn out she was to fall asleep on my arm so easily.

I came over to talk about last night, to see how she was feeling. The sudden way she shut down last night had us worried, and Mateo panicked when she didn't answer his calls, which is unlike him. When he said she struggles with anxiety, my initial thought was, doesn't everyone? But then he went into detail about the things she'd try to hide, her coping mechanisms, how she'd silently freak out and not speak up, so I understood the panic about how she was handling what we did together, when she wouldn't respond to his calls.

I've been watching her videos—every fucking one and there are tons of them—over the last week, ever since Matty finally shared her profile name with us. She doesn't talk about anxiety much in them; when she does, it's in a more nebulous way, like it's just something that exists and people deal with, no big deal. Obviously hiding her own experiences.

Lucy is an intense woman, though, so I wasn't exactly surprised she struggles. She's strung tight. No wonder Matty needed us. He's almost as bad as she is. Not anxious, but intense, neurotic. I can picture him trying to force the problem intosubmission, and I can already tell Lucy needs more patience than that.

I'll let Matty handle the big picture stuff, Noah and I can handle the day to day. Daddy Warbucks likes to take care of everyone, make sure there's food on the table, so to speak. Not that we don't all make great money, but he's into providing lifetime financial stability. He could probably retire next year and still be able to afford the taxes on this place for the rest of his life. But sometimes he's got the tact of a kindergartner.

Before I leave, I need to scope out the apartment. I think it's big enough for me and Noah to move in, but Matty's gonna have to give up his home office. I mean, it's not like he needs it. He's got a big corner office downtown. Our current apartment is decent, but it's small. This place is nicer. And Lucy loves it. That's what matters.

Now I know how Matty feels. I'm stuck in an awkward position, my arm is going numb, I'm not getting any work done, sitting here, thinking about rearranging my entire life, moving into this apartment, imagining how to make all the pieces of our lives fit together, and I barely know Lucy.

She hums softly. With her mouth slightly open, a little bit of drool wets my sleeve, her pert nose squished against my shoulder. It's cute. I'd take a picture if I could reach my phone.

I didn't come over here to do anything with her and I thought the video games would help put her at ease. But it worked better than I expected, and now all I can think about is a relaxed, pliable Lucy.

I wonder if she'd let me lick her pussy again. I enjoy sharing, but I like alone time too, and right now, it's just us.

She hums again and adjusts, but her head lolls off my shoulder, waking her abruptly. She wipes her face with the back of her hand, red coloring her cheeks beneath her sandy freckles. I fucking love the freckles.

In all the pictures she posts, you never see them. Come to think of it, real life Lucy looks a lot different from her profile. Way less makeup. Her clothes are more bum-chic, less social-media-model in various shades of tan, brown and beige. Granted, she's chillin' at home, but even at Atrium, I was surprised to see her like that, all dressed down. I barely recognized her at first. Maybe that was the point, though.

I'm making her self-conscious; I can tell by the way she squirms under my gaze, but I can't help it.

I really fucking like this girl.

Clearing her throat, she looks away. "Sorry for falling asleep on you."

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