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Chapter Eight
Forrest
I have to admit, I kind of expected things to change between the three of us when we all started sleeping together, but to my surprise, it doesn’t seem to have made much of a difference. We’re all still friends who hang out and laugh together, the same way we have since that first night I came back, but now we just happen to spend our evenings entangled in raw, sweaty threesomes.
It’s a little weird, seeing Max in that context again but keeping my hands off completely. Occasionally we’ll help undress each other, like Max had done with my shirt that first night, but the focus is always on Alyson. There’s a part of me that aches to cross that threshold, but that’s not part of our little arrangement.
We didn’t lay it down specifically in the ground rules, but it felt like there was an unspoken agreement. After all, my job is just to knock her up, and I don’t need to touch him to do that.
We’ve been doing this for a few weeks now, and the longer it goes on, the more I worry that I should never have opened my idiot mouth, or that I should have insisted on going more clinical with this.
Because the longer it goes on, the harder I know it’s going to be to stop. As it is, I’ve been confused enough by my feelings for the two of them, but now, sharing this with them and growing more and more intimate, it’s worse than ever.
My feelings for Max never died, and now, those lingering embers have been fanned. And when that flame met the newly kindled blaze burning in my heart for Alyson, the combination had created a massive, raging wildfire inside me that threatened to destroy everything in its path.
I’ve fallen in love with them both, hard, and I know I’m just setting myself up for failure. I didn’t even know it was possible to love two people at once, let alone this much, and I don’t really know what I’m going to do when this inevitably ends.
Can the three of us go back to being just friends without the benefits? It’s hard to imagine. And once they actually have a kid, they’ll be wrapped up in a new life that I’m not a part of, and even if our friendship survives, I know I’ll still always be on the outside looking in, and I’m not sure I’m strong enough to live like that.
“Hey, Bowman, you ok?” a voice behind me startles me out of my brooding thoughts.
I glance up to see Hunter leaning over my desk. “You were just kind of zoning out, and you kinda don’t look so great. You sleeping, man?” he asks.
“Not well,” I admit, scrubbing a hand over my face and sighing, “Just got some personal shit on my mind, sorry.”
“Tell you what, why don’t you come grab dinner at my place?” he offers, “We can talk about whatever shit’s going on with you if you want, and if not, we can just hang out and get your mind off things?”
I hesitate for a moment. I’ve hung out with Hunter before, but always in a group somewhere out in public. Something about the idea of being alone with him at his place feels like a whole different ball game.
He sees the look on my face and chuckles. “Don’t worry, Bowman, I’m a happily engaged man, and I’ve got a kid,” he assures me, “Won’t be just us.”
I grimace. “That obvious?”
He laughs. “Little bit. But no worries, I get it.”
I have to admit, it does sound kind of good to have an evening with just casual friends, no deeper agendas or confusing feelings to battle with for a little while. “I think I’ll take you up on that,” I tell him finally.
“Awesome,” he grins and swipes a post-it note off the pad on my desk, along with a pen, scribbling something down on the pale yellow paper.
“We’ll probably eat around six-thirty or so, but you’re welcome to just head over after work,” he says, handing me the little square.
I look down and see an address jotted down, and I nod. “Sweet. Thanks, Hunter. Should I bring anything? I can stop off and get some drinks or dessert or something if you want.”
“Nah, just yourself,” he says.
With something to look forward to, the rest of my day passes a little more quickly, and before long, I was walking up to the front door of the address Hunter had given me and knocking.
“Coming!” a female voice calls from within.
I hear footsteps approaching, and the door swings open, revealing a pretty young blonde woman cradling an infant. For a moment, I’m afraid I’ve gotten the wrong house, and I’m about to apologize, but then she smiles. “Hey, you must be Forrest, right?”
I nod, confused, and she shifts the baby in her arms. “Hunter texted me and told me you were coming,” she explains, “You actually beat them home, but they should be here any minute.”
Them? I wonder who else is joining us and figure maybe he’s invited another co-worker or something. I can’t say I mind, more people is less pressure to keep conversation going.
“Come on in,” she widens the door and beckons me inside, “I’m Caitlyn, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too. And who’s this little one?” I ask, gesturing to the baby.
