Page 281 of What We Burn

“The kitchen’s fine,” Holden says, kissing the top of my head as I curl into him.

“There’s cum on the rug.”

“I’ll clean it.”

“There’s cum on me.”

“I’ll clean you too.”

Milo giggles. High and giddy and pure. “This is the greatest day in the history of days. Holden sucked my dick. I sucked his during our threesome in the kitchen. And I have a boyfriend now.”

“I didn’t agree to be your boyfriend,” Holden mutters.

“You’re my boyfriend, Holden. It’s decided.”

The garage door rumbles under the floor, and thirty seconds later Knox fills the kitchen doorway with his boots still on, taking in the three of us and the state of the counter with one slow pass.

“Knox! I have a boyfriend,” Milo announces, before Knox has both boots through the door.

“We haven’t discussed terms,” Holden says.

Knox grunts and heads upstairs.

“The terms are: you blow me, I blow you. I’m open to butt stuff. Plus, I adore you, and I promise to agree with you on grocery placement until we’re old.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You love that about me.”

Holden doesn’t deny it. His hand comes to rest on Milo’s arm. And stays there.

I lie between them on the scratchy rug and stare at the ceiling and think about how before all this, I went home alone after every diner shift and had no reason to believe the world could be anything but cruel. And now I’m naked on a kitchen floor with two men who love me, in a house that’s ours, with three more who’d burn everything down to keep me safe.

It’s a lot. It shouldn’t work.

It’s perfect.

“We should get off the floor,” Holden says eventually.

“In a minute,” I say.

“The floor’s getting cold.”

“In a minute, Holden.”

He sighs. Doesn’t move. Nobody moves.

SEVENTY-TWO

KNOX

The next afternoon, I hit rep twenty with ninety pounds in each hand.

Not enough.

I lower Holden’s adjustable dumbbells to the mat.

Holden would tell me training to failure alone is stupid. He’s got rules about solo lifting. I told him I’ve been pressing my own body weight since I was nineteen and haven’t died yet. He told me that’s survivorship bias. I told him to fuck off.