Page 51 of Me Three
“Of course,” I breathe as he turns the lick into a kiss that is sure to leave a hickey.
It’s so great that they finally talked. And Carter feels the same way for Ev as Ev does for him. Not that big a surprise if you ask me.
But I can’t help but worry that I’m going to be a third wheel. I mean, what chance do I have between two guys who love each other? And just because I’d like to be with both of them, that doesn’t mean they feel the same. Just because I might be open to a poly relationship, that doesn’t mean everyone has the same inclination.
“Are you okay?” Ev asks when he finishes his work on my neck.
“Yeah,” I say.
“Sure? You look pensive.”
I laugh.
“Pensive? Okay, Professor,” I say.
“He’s a Doctor, actually,” Carter says walking back into the kitchen.
“I thought I told you to put your panties on,” I say.
“I have,” he says. “And you only get to see them after dinner. Little perv. Hey, maybe that should be my pet name for you.”
“Do you want to be spanked again?” I smirk.
“Oh, yes. Definitely. But first dinner with Dr. Spencer and Mx. Parker,” he says and walks to the deep fryer.
“You’re really a doctor?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Ev says.
“Did his Ph.D. in Paris, the fucker,” Carter adds.
“I didn’t realize that’s what you were doing in Paris when you mentioned studying there. Oh la la,” I say, rubbing my hands together.
“Mais oui, oh la la,” he says in perfect French that makes my chest heavy and hot. “Are you going to tell the doctor what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I-uhm-just this painting I’ve been working on. It won’t collaborate,” I say.
And it’s not a lie. Since Everett suggested starting from scratch, I have, twice. I spent all day on Saturday after we came back from Virginia Beach painting. And all of yesterday, and yet it still looks like a pile of crap.
“Maybe I can help,” he says. “Why don’t you bring it over and we can look at it together, find out what’s wrong.”
That would sound perfect. I mean what other artist has the opportunity to have a master—a Doctor of Fine Arts—to guide them and advise them.
“All I heard in that sentence was ‘let’s paint together,’” I say, and Ev smiles.
“I’d like that,” he says.
“You can paint with us, too, Carter,” I say when Ev’s stare persists.
The last thing I want is for Carter to feel jealous of me, or that I’m stealing Ev away.
“Uhm, as fun as that sounds—spoiler alert, not—I’d rather play Dark Ages of Witchcraft,” Carter says.
I step around Ev, walking up to the dining table and leaning on it, while Ev gets back to helping Carter finish up dinner.
“You game?”
“Yeah, he’s a nerd,” Ev says.
