Because it felt fucking real to me.
Forcing myself to go back into the bedroom, the adrenaline had worn off, leaving me wrung out. Frankie was asleep on Travis’s chest, her dark hair spilling over him like a blanket. She looked peaceful, lips parted, leg thrown over his and tangled, her hand curling possessively over his ribs like she couldn’t let him go even in her dreams.
Silently, I kneeled on the bed, and cleaned her up, using a warm washcloth and a soft touch. She stirred a little, but Trav hooked his hand under the knee resting across his bare waist and hiked it up further, opening her up for me to get all the mess we left behind.
When I was done, I pulled the blanket up over her naked body and tossed the cloth into the hamper. My chest felt tight, my skin was too hot with the weight of what we’d done and what it had meant hanging over my head.
Travis looked over at me when I slid under the covers, leaning back against the headboard instead of sliding down and going to sleep. His hand absently stroked Frankie’s back as she slept on him, and his eyes met mine in the dim light.
Calm.
Steady.
Always fucking steady.
“You alright?” He asked quietly.
I swallowed, “I don’t know.”
He didn’t press, didn’t fill the silence. He just waited. That was the thing about my best friend; he had the patience that I didn’t.
I ran a hand through my hair, staring at the ceiling. “Back there, with her. With you. I—fuck, man—I liked it. More than I should have.”
Something shifted in his expression, but he didn’t flinch. Didn’t mock me or look away. “I thought we already squashed this after that time in her living room.”
I sighed but didn’t say anything else. Because so had I.
Doubt was a fucking dick.
“Are you saying you’re into me?” He asked.
“No,” I said quickly, maybe too quickly. “It’s not that. I’m not looking at other guys. I don’t want that. But with you—” I broke off, shaking my head and then whispered, “When we’re with her,when it’s the three of us, I don’t hate it. I like it. Your touch. The way it feels. It doesn’t make sense, but?—”
“It doesn’t have to,” Travis said, his voice low but certain.
I turned my head toward him, the quiet conviction in his tone pulled me in.
“We’re not following rules here, Eli. We’re making our own. If what we’ve got feels good—feels right—we don’t have to stick a label on it. Doesn’t mean you are anything but you. Doesn’t mean I’m anything but me. It just means it works. For us. For her.” He scoffed a little. “I think itreallyfucking works for her.” He grinned.
Something in my chest cracked, a pressure I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“And if it ever stops working?” I asked.
His mouth curved again, with the barest hint of a smile. “Then we talk. But until then, stop overthinking and let yourself have this, if it’s what you want.”
I let out a shaky laugh, rubbing a hand over my face. “Christ, you always know how to make shit sound simple.”
“Because it is,” He said, tilting his head toward the woman asleep on his chest. “She’s ours. We’re hers. That’s all that matters.”
Frankie stirred between us, letting out a soft sigh as she shifted in her sleep. Travis adjusted the blanket over her, his hand still steady against her spine.
“Being with this incredible woman feels amazing.” Trav said, “I think we can both agree on that. And if for the rest of my life, I got to please her, fuck her, and give her what I had to offer, without you even being in the room, I’d die a happy man.”
“Fuck you,” I grunted, turning off the light and sliding down in bed.
In the silent darkness he went on, voice soft and barely more than a whisper. “But if I get to spend the rest of my life pleasingher, loving her, and fucking her, with you wrapped up in it from head to toe, I’d die a happier man. Because it felt fucking right to me, Sunshine. It felt damn fucking good too.”
For the first time since I’d stared myself down in the bathroom mirror, I let the knot in my chest ease. Maybe he was right. Maybe it didn’t need a name.
