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“So was I.”
Peter sees we’re at a stalemate. At least he’s not being so fucking smug anymore, the prick. What he says next kind of kills any sense of my triumph, though.
“It really is just like before, huh?”
Why is he bringing that up? How can he be right? How can this be happening again?
“What was before like?” It’s Becky. She’s back, somehow balancing three rocks glasses in her hands. She’s been generous in the pours of the whiskey. I can smell the tangy scent of them from where I’m sitting.
“It doesn’t matter,” Darian and I tell her at exactly the same time. Which is super fucking annoying.
Becky shrugs and hands us each a drink. “Bottoms up,” she says. I think about her bottom being up for Darian and the bitterness of the thought makes me take a pretty hefty sip. I immediately feel it go to my head.
“Becky’s mine,” I state emphatically once again. “There’s just no argument to be made.”
“You keep saying she’s yours not mine,” Peter rejoinders. I note he’s taken a pretty big sip, too. “But I really can’t get with that thinking.”
“You’re wasting your fucking time, Peter.”
“I think you’ll find thatyou’rewastingyourtime, Darian.”
“This is really getting good,” Becky chimes in. I can see that she’s merely sipping her drink. This must be great entertainment for her.
Except Darian and I aren’t going to get anywhere like this. We didn’t the last time. We won’t now. But we’re not kids. This can be solved rationally.
In fact, Becky can be the one to solve it.
“You have to weigh in here,” I tell her.
“Excuse me.”
“I hate to admit it,” Darian says, “but the fucker is right. You’re the one we’re fighting over. And it’s an equal match. So you need to break the stalemate, as it were.”
“My, what a lovely place to be stuck in. Kind of like I’m between a hard place and… another hard place.”
She’s not wrong. I realize that the heat of the argument has sparked an erection between my legs. I wonder if Darian’s having the same reaction? I don’t dare look, though.
“So, choose,” I tell her. “Darian or me?”
“No.”
“No what.”
“No, I’m not going to choose.”
“You’re throwing us both out?” Darian asks.
“Who said that? What I’m saying is that I choose both of you.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Darian scoffs. I agree.
“That’s the offer on the table, fellas,” she says. She now drains her glass. Then she looks at us each in turn. “Take it or leave it.”
I glance at Peter. I can see what he’s thinking from the look in her eyes.
We’re taking it.
