“Fine. I won’t ditch Greg,” Sully says, playfully grumbling. “But if I get my stupid shit done … I swear fucking Elias keeps adding to the list … and you aren’t back in town, I’m coming after you.”
“Fair.” I playfully raise an eyebrow and ask, “What list?”
Sully hums quietly, delightedly. “I see I need to distract you just a little longer …”
I shake my head at him. Though I quite enjoyed his method of distracting me when I kept prodding him about the newly minted Savoy bond group yesterday. Not that I haven’t put a few of the pieces together myself. Such as ever-so-slyly noting the text exchanges between Sully and Elias, as well as Sully, Bolan, and Christoph. Not that I read those messages, just the names of the senders.
Speaking of which …
“Do me a favor?” I ask.
“Anything.”
I crawl out of bed, retrieving my phone from the charging station out in the hall, then climbing back into bed with Sully. He’s sitting now, sheet demurely tucked across his lap, but his tan-skinned chest is beautifully bare.
I cuddle next to him, shoulder to shoulder, then hold my phone aloft so we’re both framed within the screen. Then I thumb my contact for Rian.
“Really? Now?” Sully flashes a gleeful smirk at me.
Rian answers before I can respond to Sully. The light is low enough around him that all I can see is that he’s walking down a wide corridor. Then he raises the phone to frame his face, already smiling as he fits an earbud into his ear. He’s wearing a collared lightweight jacket over a thicker knit black sweater, with a backpack slung over one shoulder.
“Mirth.” Despite the low light, Rian’s smile blazes bright. Then that smile turns slightly questioning as he takes in Sully — who looks completely nude at this angle.
“Rian,” I say, “you’ve met Sully.”
Sully smirks — of course and always — then nods at Rian.
Rian nods thoughtfully back, then shifts his gaze to me.
“You’re not in Lake Thun,” I say.
“Heading to Dublin. Just arrived at the airport, Heathrow. You?”
“London.”
Rian’s gaze flicks to Sully, then back to me. “You’ve made your choice … I thought …”
“Both of you.” My interjection is clumsy, and blunt, but I don’t want the conversation to head off in the wrong direction. “If you’ll have me. If you’ll —”
“Yes,” Rian says.
“No question,” Sully murmurs.
“Just …” Rian’s gaze flicks between me and Sully again. “Just us?”
“No,” Sully says.
“Nothing else has been decided on,” I say, knowing this conversation is necessary but also premature.
“But we’re the only people Mirth is currently fucking,” Sully says, not entirely playful.
Rian nods. “To be determined, I guess.”
“Is that an issue for you?” I ask frostily. Because I might not know all the choices I need to make in the next few weeks, but I’m certainly not going to be told whom I can fuck. “For either of you?”
Sully raises his hands, still not entirely playful.
Rian exhales, scrubbing his free hand over his face. An announcement comes over the airport speakers near him. “I’m stalking my fucking mother, who won’t take my calls. I’m sorry if I’m acting … I’m all in, Mirth. I have been since the moment you looked my way. I understand it can’t just be me. That …” He looks at Sully.
