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So I’ll just keep those things to myself.
My only real concern is—how long we can do this before it gets too serious. If I stick around in that apartment for five years, what happens when they get pregnant and have another baby? I will always be the odd one out.
There is no real future for me here.
And that reminder is like a stain on an otherwise perfect night. I just wish I could enjoy it more.
“Let’s go home,” Briar whispers with her head on my chest.
Caleb stands first, finding his underwear and pants. He smiles down at us as he pulls them up and buttons them.
Isn’t he wondering the same thing I am? Isn’t he as worried as I am about where this is going?
Of course not. He ends up with a beautiful wife either way.
The entire ride home, I stay quiet. When we get out of the car, I go toward my apartment, but it’s Caleb who takes my hand and drags me toward the house.
“We have the place to ourselves tonight. Stay with us,” he says quietly in the moonlight.
“Are we sure that’s really a good idea?” I reply, unable to meet his eyes.
“If you don’t want to…”
“I do,” I say, cutting him off.
I hate my stupid heart for how much I want this. Even knowing there’s no more sex in the cards tonight, I want to sleep between them, nestled in the warm comfort of their bodies.
So I follow them both inside and up the stairs. We get undressed together, not saying much. And when we crawl into the bed, I end up in the middle.
Briar makes a pillow out of my arm, facing me with her bent leg resting on my thighs. Caleb lies close behind me, a strong hand wrapped around my chest.
No matter what a mess my head is at the moment, I can’t fight how comfortable this is and how tired I am. Within minutes, I drift off to sleep.
* * *
I wake to the smell of bacon and a warm arm under my head. Peeking my eyes open, I see 10:37 displayed on the clock on the nightstand.
Caleb’s hand is on my hip, and his body is pressed against mine. When I begin to stir, pressing my hips back against him, he hums lowly in my ear.
“Good morning,” he mutters, tugging me closer to grind himself against me some more.
Then his hand reaches down and grips my morning wood, giving it a stroke over my briefs.
“First time waking up with a man in your arms?” I say with a smile as I push my hips back.
He chuckles, the deep sound vibrating through my chest. “Yes, why?”
“Just curious,” I reply. That’s one conversation Caleb and I have not had yet. How long has he known he’s attracted to men? The only reason I don’t bring it up is because then we’d have to face the hypocrisy of what he did to Isaac. And I’m not ready to do that.
There are voices downstairs, which means we definitely cannot let this get out of hand now. So we stop stroking each other. Instead, I roll toward him, but his hand stays on my hip.
When our eyes meet, it feels like electricity. I quite like his morning look, mussed-up hair and unkempt beard. It’s both masculine and tender at the same time.
“That was the best I’ve slept in a long time,” he says quietly.
“Me too, actually,” I reply, feeling a little surprised by that. I can’t remember the last time I’ve slept with anyone, let alone squeezed between two bodies.
As we stare at each other, I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing I am—that waking up like this again would be nice, but how long could it really go on? Are we playing with fire or just having fun?
