Page 18 of Three Bossy Boyfriends
His breath tickles my ear. I shiver a little as he pulls away. “Goodnight, Peter Parker.”
His smile is slow, dirty, sexy. “I’ll see you tomorrow to save the world.”
Mollified, I make my exit with Harrison.
Once in his passenger seat, I click on my seat belt and tell him, “That was heavy-handed and unnecessary.”
Harrison fires up the engine of his sports car. “I can live with that.”
“You’re going to tell Ford I got drunk at Raw, aren’t you?” I lean my head back against the seat.
“Of course. And that you were hanging all over your coworker.”
“I was not hanging all over—!” I stop talking. Harrison is grinning. I fell right into that trap. “You suck.”
“I do.” The grin widens. “Just about every night.”
My jaw drops. It’s a clear reference to sex with his husband. Then I start laughing. “Then I guess Liam is lucky.”
“As am I.” He pulls out of the lot. “So, you and the lawyer, huh? You work fast.”
“I’m not really sure he’s into me,” I say, because I am always straightforward even when sober, and I’m certainly that way when drunk. “I think he might be interested in someone else. A guy.”
“Oh, he’s into you. I saw it. And who says you can’t be into a guy and a girl at the same time?”
Considering Harrison is also romantically involved with my brother’s wife, Ivy, he speaks from experience.
“Is it hard to share?”
“No. Not at all. As long as everyone is on board with it, it can be very rewarding. We all get different needs met from our different relationships.”
I don’t know why I’m asking about sharing. That’s never really crossed my mind. People casually date more than one person all the time. But if Evan wants to date me and Christopher, I don’t know what that looks like. Which is me gettingwayahead of myself.
Evan’s focus is on making partner. Mine needs to be on passing the bar.
This. Is. Fake.
“My needs are simple. Pass the bar and get out of Honeysuckle Harbor.”
“Why the urgency?” Harrison says. “There are positives about being here.”
“Of course. But everyone feels like they have to look out for me, like I’m some sort of loose cannon.”
“There’s nothing wrong with people looking out for you.”
“Sure, if you’re you. If you’re me, it’s because people think you’re still an angsty, volatile teen. Theweirdtriplet.”
Seeing Tucker Hastings earlier has dredged up some buried emotions that have no business showing their stupid faces when I’m already in the midst of a ‘you-were-forced-to-slink-back-home’ crisis.
I can still hear Tucker’s voice as he stood by the lockers after third period with his two buddies, who were taking the twins to prom. They were trying to talk him into asking me to make it a triple date.
“A triplet date, how fucking cool with that be? Just ask Finley.”
“The weird, creepy triplet? No way,” Tucker had declared loudly and vehemently.
So loudly that his stupid voice still rings in my ears to this day, in spite of being ten years in the rearview mirror.
“Nobody thinks that,” Harrison says as he pulls into the driveway of my sisters’ cheerful yellow bungalow. “If they do, I want names so I can bankrupt them.”
