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The two words appeared on my phone, but for a few seconds I ignored them. I was still busy staring at the photo. ‘Adam’ was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt, showing off a pair of strong, sculpted arms. And my God?
?? his shoulders…
You don’t think I’m real either? I typed, trying to stall. You don’t trust me?
You gotta earn trust, Adam shot back, adding a little smiley face. Besides, if I’m being honest? You could be anyone, really. Your profile is only two days old.
Maybe I created it because I saw your profile? I suggested. Maybe I only made it for the sole purpose of reaching out?
That part was actually true. This was the third poly-dating site I’d browsed, and it was the best one by far. It was also the only one that came up with hits anywhere near local to me. Adam’s had been within the Ithaca city limits, a little more than a mile away.
He still hadn’t answered though. Carrying my phone into the kitchen, I sighed and typed:
Okay, fine.
Scrambling for pen and paper, I wrote the words ‘Hi Adam’ followed by a little heart on a yellow Post-It note. Then I took a smiling selfie, slapping the Post-It comically on my forehead, and sent it off to him.
I saw the little text-bubble appear immediately, indicating he was typing.
Damn. You’re even beautiful at bedtime.
I blushed — actually blushed — while staring at his photo for a third time. On a whim I typed something. Something I never in a million years thought I’d type:
Gonna need you to re-take that pic, but without the sign. It’s totally blocking my view.
I bit my lip as long, agonizing seconds ticked by. A full minute passed. I started wondering if maybe I hadn’t scared him off.
Suddenly my phone chimed again. A photo came through… one in which Adam was lifting his shirt to his chin, showing off a six-pack of shredded, washboard abdominals that would make any woman drool. Just above it, I could see the hint of two perfect pecs, rock-hard and muscular.
How’s this for a view? the text beneath the photo asked.
Two
BROOKE
It was a double-edged sword, working for Mythic Daily. On one hand, it was one of the more successful independent magazines. We came into a thriving marketplace, with a solid online presence and a good mobile integration team. This was especially important as so many of our sister-mags were going belly up, having been too established in the ancient world of printed copies to adapt to a more modern-day format.
On the other hand, it wasn’t like I was writing literary prose, either. Most of my articles had to do with celebrity gossip or not-so-important current events. I wrote shock value stuff with high visibility; the kinds of things people read on a whim, simply because they were too interesting not to.
During my three-year tenure I’d done it all. I’d run sex polls for a while. A relationship advice column called Bring it to Brooke. I’d even put out a series of godforsaken makeup tutorials, before finally rising up through the ranks to more important pursuits.
Yet no matter what I did, I always tried to keep the work serious. I labored hard at making every article compelling, even when my stories were twisted into grotesque caricatures of their original format, or when editors were swapping my titles out for click-bait headlines that would garner more views, and thus, more advertising revenue.
But now…
Now I was near the top. Finally recognized as one of the best writers in the whole magazine, and given near free rein over what to write. The promotion came with a tiny office, a zero-percent raise, and triple the responsibility.
But it was freedom. And so I took it.
What came as a surprise however, was the latest opportunity given to me by my boss, Chloe. An assignment more important than any other article in the history of our magazine, because if we didn’t blow it, it could lead to a much more lucrative future for Mythic Daily.
And that’s because Cosmo, of all magazines, wanted to do a collab with us.
“It’s not so much of a collab,” my boss had said two weeks ago, “but more of a guest spot in an upcoming issue. One that could potentially lead to a recurring role, which would boost visibility and legitimize Mythic Daily in ways that no amount of bought-and-paid-for publicity ever could.”
The article I’d been tasked to write was on the nature of polyamorous relationships. Poly meaning ‘more than one’ and amory meaning ‘love’, it was about any number of couples or thruples (or foursomes or moresomes) that were, on a consistent basis, opening their committed relationships up to others.
