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“Just for being able to get you out of those raggedy cargo pants you used to always wear, she deserves better,” Jason quips, earning himself a threatening glower from Sully.
“I can still knock your lights out,” he says.
“You could try,” Jason replies, flashing a playful grin.
I clear my throat and lean forward, my gaze fixed on Sully. “Speaking of, how’s your profile working out in the MMA? You said you had a couple of fights scheduled for January.”
“They’re still on. I’ll focus on my core training while we’re in Aspen,” he says. “With a little bit of luck, I’ll qualify for the North-Eastern tournament in spring.”
“I have to say, your training seems pretty effective in treating your PTSD in lieu of actual therapy,” I reply, unable to hide my own amusement. “Although I can always put you in touch with Dr. Kang, if you want.”
Sully shakes his head. “I’m good, thanks. Fighting keeps me disciplined and focused, and the kids at the community center keep me on my toes and in touch with my humanity.”
“Damn, that sounded almost poetic,” Jason says. “But hey, if it helps—”
“I’m okay,” Sully assures us. “I’m good. I promise.”
“Any nightmares lately?” I ask.
He shakes his head again, but the hesitation in his eyes tells me he is holding some things back from us. I can’t blame him. Sully had it worse than Jason and me. I got lucky with my family and so-called prestigious heritage, while Jason developed a sense of self-sufficiency from a young age while working the fields in California with his parents. But Sully got bounced around the foster care system throughout most of his adolescence, and the only place that ever gave him structure was the very place that also gave him deep trauma—the military. He served honorably and dutifully, but it also brought out the worst in him. When we retired, Sully was aimless and rudderless for a while.
I suppose fighting is definitely a better outlet than some other toxic habit. Jason would know. I’m not sure how I got so lucky to keep my head above the water the way I did, the way I still do today. But I would give anything to share some of this built-in balance with my two best friends, if only to make their lives a little easier.
“I told you, I’m good,” Sully insists. “Nothing that a couple of hours’ worth of punching the crap out of a sandbag won’t fix.”
“We’re going to be okay,” Jason says to me. He better understands my concerns.
The three of us failed with Cynthia. We let things get out of control and go too far, and none of us had the courage to do the right thing at the time. Now, the memory of her comes back to haunt us every once in a while, more prominently as the winter holidays approach. It’ll be a whole year, soon enough. And we are likely using Selina as a bandage of sorts. It’s not fair to her, but I like to think that we’re at least helping her while also helping ourselves in the process.
If she does open up to us, if she does accept the three of us, it will change everything. The guys and I have tried dating separately but nothing ever stuck. Us sharing a woman, on the other hand, has worked nicely in the past, despite how it ended with Cynthia. Selina is different, I can tell. She’s got that fire in her, the kind of bright flame that has us drawn to her like drunken moths. All we need to do is help her nurture it.
“Yeah, we’re going to be okay,” I finally say after a long and pensive pause, then check my watch. “She should be here by now.”
“We’re not boarding for another two hours,” Jason says.
I look around and stare at the main lounge door for a while, hoping I’ll notice when she walks in. “Yeah, but the car should’ve picked her up by now.”
“There could be traffic,” Sully suggests.
A few moments later, Selina comes in with her luggage in tow and her cheeks red from the effort of dragging the giant thing around on her own. I instantly jump to my feet and walk over to relieve her of a mammoth of a suitcase. She gives me a weak smile.
“Hey,” Selina says. “Sorry I’m late. There was some congestion on the way here.”
“It’s okay. How are you? Well rested, I hope,” I tell her.
We’re joined by Sully and Jason, both of them smiling sheepishly as they measure her from head to toe. Only now do I notice that Selina is not wearing her usual work clothes. I’d gotten so used to the sleek black jacket and black pants with white shirt combo that I barely registered the dark blue training suit she was wearing.
“Yeah, I slept like a baby,” she says, noticing the guys staring. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I never thought a tracksuit could ever look this good on a woman, yet here you are, defying conventions yet again,” Jason chuckles lightly.
Her cheeks bloom in shades of pink as she glances down at her white sneakers. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to wear, especially after you mentioned us meeting up here in the business lounge. I had a mind of wearing one of my work suits, but I’m kind of tired of that style.”
“Don’t worry about it. Nobody ever cares what you wear while flying,” I reply. “But Jason is right. You do look marvelous, even in a tracksuit.”
“Thank you,” she mumbles, a smile stretching across her lips. “I can’t thank you enough for everything that you’ve done for me. Everything that you’re still doing, actually.”
Sully moves in and plants a soft kiss on her temple. She freezes and closes her eyes for a moment. I can tell she enjoys each of our affections with equal pleasure. It makes my cock twitch, my blood already simmering as I imagine the zipper of her tracksuit coming down at once. “You don’t have to thank us for anything. You don’t owe us anything,” Sully tells her.
