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“I… I…”
In less than a minute or two I’d become a stuttering, shaking mess. I was staring blankly at Adam, who was grinning back at me. Dante had gone back to kissing my neck again.
“W—What change of plans?”
“We’re staying in,” Adam announced, unlacing his boots. He kicked them off, then started walking my place like he’d lived there for years. “We decided we wanted a date more like yours and Trey’s. You know, stay in and get to know each other. Netflix and chill.”
Netflix and—
I laughed, and Dante stopped kissing me abruptly. His brows crossed in confusion.
“What’s so funny?”
“Trey and I hardly Netflixed,” I declared proudly. “And we certainly didn’t ‘chill’.”
“Whatever,” said Dante, his lips going back to my neck. He was giving me the shivers. The entire right side of my body was numb with the most amazing tingles. “It’s definitely movie night.”
Adam was already in the kitchen, searching my cabinets and drawers. He came back with a brown bag of cheap microwave popcorn, and an expression of underlying disgust.
“It’s the best I have,” I shrugged.
He tilted his head. “I guess it’ll have to do,” he said. “Unless you’ve got other, better snacks…”
For the next ten minutes we rifled though my little kitchen, taking apart the contents of my pantry, the fridge, even the freezer. We ended up with a bowl of microwave popcorn, a couple of toasted pretzels, and ‘poor-man’s nachos’ — the latter consisting of little more than tortilla chips sprinkled with tiny bits of shredded string cheese and then nuked in the microwave. A bottle of Merlot rounded out our feast, courtesy of the second-to-last rung in my 6-position wine rack.
“Sorry but we came straight from our trip,” Dante apologized. “We didn’t bring anything but ourselves.”
That’s fine, I thought happily. It’s the only thing I really wanted.
“Next time we’ll come better prepared,” Adam promised me. “A case of beer, a bouquet of flowers. Maybe some candles, to keep things romantic…”
“Romantic I can do,” I said, grabbing the smaller of two remotes next to the couch. Three clicks later, I had the lights dimmed to 30% of normal. “How’s that?”
Dante leapt nimbly over the arm of my sofa, landing in my usual spot. Adam took the other end, a wine glass in each hand.
“Fanfuckingtastic,” he declared, patting the middle cushion.
Twenty
“HANNAH”
The movie was stupid, but not as stupid as our pretense for watching it. It was more of an excuse to be close. To snuggle up together, with me in the center. Sandwiched between the two hot g
uys who were taking turns making out with me on my couch…
Not that I was complaining, mind you.
The shitty movie could go on forever, as far as I was concerned. Every ten minutes or so, they switched off on me. And each time we did, our kissing and touching and groping progressed a little bit further.
They’re slow-playing it, I realized. Trying not to scare you off, just like Trey said.
Regardless of speed, we all knew where the night was going. I was as eager to get there as they were… but first, I needed a little more information.
“Tell me about yourself,” I murmured to Adam, between kisses.
It was almost comical, the way he spread a hand against his own chest. “Me?”
“Yes. I want to know everything.”
