Page 96 of Scout
As my orgasm subsides, I pull out of Kendrix's spent hole, cum leaking from where we were just connected. Our panting breaths fill the room, and for a brief moment, we're frozen in time—three men connected by our shared release.
Xavier climbs off of Kendrix and cum drips from his stretched hole. As the haze of lust clears, Xavier collapses ontothe bed next to Kendrix, his chest still rising and falling like he ran a marathon. I swipe the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand and sink down beside them, my limbs trembling, heart pounding, skin flushed and sticky and totally alive.
For a second, we just breathe. Nothing moves but the ceiling fan spinning slowly above us. Xavier catches my gaze. Kendrix reaches out, brushing his knuckles over my thigh like he’s grounding himself. We’re all exhausted. In the best way.
What just happened here? It wasn’t just sex. I’ve hadjustsex. This was… something more. Something scarier and safer all at once. Something I can feel in every cell of my body.
I melt down between them, resting my cheek on Kendrix’s shoulder, letting Xavier’s arm drape over my waist. We're a tangle of bare skin and shared breath and too-warm sheets, but none of us move.
I hum quietly, almost without realizing. Just a soft, contented sound that bubbles up and slips out.
Xavier huffs a breath, low and amused. “You surprised me.”
Kendrix snorts, voice muffled into my hair. “That makes two of us.”
I grin, cheeks hot again—but this time it’s not from embarrassment. “I really like to bottom,” I admit, lazily dragging my fingers over Xavier’s stomach, “but I’m no stranger to the top.”
They both chuckle, and Xavier kisses my temple. “Noted.”
“Good thing Juniper didn’t come home,” Kendrix says, stretching like a cat.
I groan. “Ugh. I panicked earlier. Millie’s mom said they were going to church this morning. So, yeah… I spiraled for nothing.”
Kendrix smirks, nudging me with his foot. “And I’m sure you’ll do it again.”
“Oh, absolutely,” I say, unapologetically. “Welcome to my anxious little circus. Hope you like loop-de-loops.”
They each kiss me—one on the cheek, one on my shoulder.
“We wouldn’t have it any other way,” Xavier says, voice all warmth.
And for the first time in a long time, I believe it.
EPILOGUE
SIX MONTHS LATER
Scout
There’s tape on everything.Boxes half-labeled, Sharpie smudged from sweat and bad handwriting. My favorite mug is probably buried under a pile of Juniper’s graphic novels, and my entire skincare routine is currently living in a Trader Joe’s bag marked “kitchen???”
It’s chaos. But it’sourchaos.
We’re moving into the house tomorrow. All of us—eventually. A real one. With a porch and a dishwasher and a backyard that Juniper’s already claimed for her dog-walking business. The plan is to get Juniper and me settled first, though. She needs the stability. I need it too, probably more than I want to admit.
Kendrix will sell his house. Xavier will sublease his apartment. And I’ve decided to turn this place into an Airbnb—which honestly feels wild considering how many breakdowns I’ve had on this exact floor. But I think I’m ready to let go of that version of me. Or at least leave him behind with a decent cleaning fee.
It’s weird, knowing we’re moving in together. But it’s also the best kind of terrifying.
I’m sitting cross-legged on the floor of my soon-to-be-empty apartment, folding towels that definitely didn’t start out the same color. Juniper’s blasting music from her room—some chaotic indie band she swears is “lowkey emotional therapy”—and Kendrix is packing up the last of the dishes. Xavier just walked in with iced coffees and a tired smile, handing me mine like we’ve done this a million times.
It’s loud. It’s messy. It’shome.
Juniper’s good.So goodit makes my chest ache sometimes. She just wrapped up the school year with straight A’s, two awards, and a full apology letter from the class bully. She’s still got her bite, her snark, but she also sleeps through the night now and doesn’t flinch at the sound of tires. That feels like a miracle every single morning.
She’s excited about the move. About the new school in the fall. She made a PowerPoint about how to decorate her new room and presented it like she was pitching a Netflix series. I cried after. Blamed it on allergies. Kendrix didn’t call me on it—just handed me a tissue and kept helping her pick paint swatches.
As for me?
