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“What's with the advent calendar?” Shane asks, spooning some salsa verde into his zucchini taco. “You keep staring at it.”
I hadn't realized I was that obvious. “My mom used to buy them for me when I was a kid. It was the best thing ever. I have an unrepentant sweet tooth.” I glance at him. “Are they a thing in Ireland? Did you have them as a kid?”
His face shutters. “Yes, we have them in Ireland.”
Note to self: Shane doesn’t talk about his childhood. Theo asks a question before the silence can become awkward. “Why tacos?”
“Because they’re delicious, of course.” I reach for the salsa roja at the same time he does, and our fingers touch. A spark of electricity winds through me, and my insides clench. I’ve done really well at pushing tonight’s scene to the back of my mind, but the contact brings it back to the front. Tonight—in less than two hours—I will do sexual things with Shane and Theo. Both of them. I’m not sure exactly what the session will hold. They may or may not fuck me. They may make me come, or they may bring me to the edge, over and over, and refuse to give me permission to orgasm. With their fingers. With their mouths. With their cocks. I swallow back the arousal flooding my mouth.
Theo gives me a crooked half-smile. “Of course.”
“When I first moved to New York, my apartment was above a taqueria. It was a one-bedroom apartment. Three of us lived there. Sarita, Tasha, and me. We used curtains to partition the space.” The memory warms me like a hug. “I worked two jobs, and I was barely scraping by. Sarita was a grad student, and Tasha waitressed and worked on Broadway. I think the woman running the taqueria, Cecelia, felt sorry for the three of us. She gave us a lot of free food.”
“It was gyros for me,” Shane volunteers unexpectedly. “That was my late-night food of choice. Cheap and delicious.”
“I prefer a good curry myself.” Shane quirks an eyebrow, and Theo looks defensive. “What? It’s not all Michelin-starred restaurants.”
Shane laughs. “I know, mate. I’m just taking the piss.”
We talk about street food after that, and the conversation moves to travel. I confess I’ve never been to Ireland. Shane won’t talk about his childhood, but he clearly loves his country. He spends the next several minutes telling me how beautiful the Irish countryside is, his face lit with passion.
Theo baits Shane by telling him that London is vastly superior to Dublin. Shane leaps to his city’s defense. I watch, amused by the interplay between the two men, and suddenly, it hits me. I’m having fun. It’s nice to be around people again. I look around at the families packing Taco Gus, their conversations loud and animated, and their faces illuminated by the Christmas lights Hugo has strung from the ceiling. My penthouse is beautiful, but it’s an ice fortress. And humans are like plants—we need light and warmth to thrive.
If it wasn’t for Theo insisting we eat dinner together, I wouldn’t have done this. Yes, I wanted tacos, but I would have gotten my al pastor to go. I would have scurried back to Xavier’s castle and eaten in my hotel room. I would have continued to shut myself off from the world.
When we’re done, I insist on paying for my meal. I’m expecting a protest, and I get one from Theo. But Shane nods. “I get it,” he says. “Boundaries.” He pulls a couple of twenties from his wallet and sets them on the table.
“Oh,” Theo says, the smile fading from his eyes. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. This isn’t a date.”
Exactly.My relationship with Theo and Shane is about one thing only, and that’s sex. Three sessions of it, to be precise. I’mrelievedthey understand.
But some of the warmth leeches out of the room. I tell myself it’s because someone opened the front door and let in a draft of cold air. That’s it. No other reason. No other reason at all.
8
SHANE
We drive back to the castle in silence. “Nine tonight?” I ask Addie when we pull up at the front. “Will that work for you?”
“Yes.” She looks nervous. “How should I dress?”
I don’t want her to be stressed about tonight. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Because my clothes won’t stay on for long?” she quips.
She’s not wrong. “Should I pretend otherwise?” I ask bluntly. “It seems better to be honest under the circumstances.”
Theo gives me an irritated look once Addie leaves. “What?” I ask, a defensive edge in my voice.
“Addie is a female version of you. You’re like two peas in a pod.”
I open my mouth to respond and then close it. Theo is right. Addie is pretty damn similar to me. She's tight-lipped about her life, she doesn't let people in, and she doesn’t trust easily. I might as well be looking in the mirror.
Theo looks at my face. “I didn't mean it as an insult. Right now, I could use a little of your emotional detachment.”
I know Theo. We’ve been friends for fifteen years. This is probably not what he wants from Addie. Yesterday, when he talked to her about her book, there were stars in his eyes. This situation must be difficult for him. Impossible.
It wouldn’t take much for him to fall in love with her. If Addie were at all interested in a relationship, I would withdraw and leave him to it. But she’s not. That makes my selfishness a little bit easier to swallow.
