Page 96 of Sharing Shane

“Yeah.”

“Then, start there. If he’s on board, and so is Wyatt—” She paused. “I assume Wyatt is on board?”

“He’s made it clear he’d be happy to be naked with me at some point, yes.”

“Okay, then talk to Shane. Preferably when you’re unlikely to wind up screwing like rabbits again.”

“You mean like when I’m on my period and already said I don’t want to fuck?”

“Exactly. Then call me after and tell me how it goes.”

“This is all very complicated,” Veronica sighed.

“Agreed.” Delia nodded soberly. “It makes me sort of glad I had my threesome in my drunken college days. Way less talking.”

“But more vomiting,” Veronica reminded her.

“Yeah. That was a definite drawback.” Delia shuddered at the memory, then dug out her phone. “Let’s order food. My brownies are kicking in, and I want something with a lot of bacon. And maybe cheese curds.”

“Oh, goodie,” Veronica muttered and made a mental note to pick up some antacids on the way home.

Veronica got home from work Thursday night ten minutes before Shane was due to arrive. He showed up right on time with a grocery back full of pretzels, three kinds of salt and vinegar chips, and the biggest chocolate bar she’d ever seen. He greeted her with a kiss—this one with less hey, wanna get naked than she was used to from him, but she figured that was due to her sex moratorium.

He cued up a movie—she let him pick since he had far more limits than she—while she changed into yoga pants and her favorite comfy sweatshirt. They settled on her sofa surrounded by snacks and watched what she was sure was going to be a dud of a movie.

Three hours later, her sides hurt from laughing so hard.

“That was funny,” she said, digging in the bottom of the bag of chips.

“I thought you’d like it.”

She smiled at him. “Who knew a movie with Bad Moms as a title would be so awesome?”

“There’s a sequel,” he told her. “Bad Moms Christmas.”

“Oh, awesome. Cue it up, I’ll be right back. Do you want anything?”

“A glass of water would be great, thanks.”

She made a quick trip to the bathroom, taking a moment to freshen her lip gloss, then headed back out. She detoured to the kitchen for a glass of water, intrigued when she heard the low murmur of his voice. When she emerged a few minutes later with a glass of water, he was just slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“Everything okay?” she asked, handing him the water.

“Yeah. That was Wyatt.”

“Oh.” She curled up next to him on the couch. “How is he?”

“He’s good. He says hi.”

“He’s sweet.” She settled against the pillows and reached for the bag of chips. “So listen, speaking of Wyatt…”

He frowned when she trailed off. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no, nothing’s wrong,” she assured him, her fingers clenching on the chip bag and making it crinkle.

He leaned forward to set his glass on the table, then turned to face her. “Then what’s up?”

“Well, it’s like this.” She blew out a breath, sucked in another, and pushed the words out. “I think I want to have a threesome with you and Wyatt.”

---