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In the basement,we all arrange ourselves on this great cushy couch. Weston and I sit on either side of Petra. The goofy dogs seem miffed they can’t crowd in as well, but Weston orders them to lie down on the carpet. We all have fresh berry cobbler while the show starts. Finally, we’re all done eating, and we kind of spread out all over the couch. I notice that Petra seems to want to scoot close to Weston, and that makes me feel left out again. I promptly get up and take the dessert dishes back into the kitchen. I need to get my head on straight, so while I rinse the dishes and stow them in the dishwasher, I give myself a talking-to.There is no room for jealousy here.
When I get back, however, the dogs have taken up residence right where they want to be—on the couch. Weston and Petra look pretty satisfied with themselves all snuggled up to each other. They look at me, and Petra says, “Gus, you need to scoot over and make room for Callum now.”
The dog lets out a dramatic sigh as Petra pushes him over to make room for me. I had been planning to just sit on the floor, but I’m happy to squeeze in between her and the dog.
Weston slings his arm around Petra’s shoulders, and we settle in like that for a while. But then I feel his hand on the back of my neck. He’s not stroking it or anything. It’s like a friendly hand resting on my skin, but it instantly makes me hard. I feel his eyes on me, and I chance a look at him. He raises his eyebrows as if to say, “This okay?” So, what else can I do? I love the feel of his hand on me, so I smile back and wink. Now I wonder if he’s interested in Petra at all. He looks down at my lap and smirks. I wasn’t aware I was so obvious, and I feel my face flame. Then I get a squirrelly notion. I scoot even closer to Petra and take hold of her hand. I hear the tiniest intake of breath from her. Her eyes get huge, and she looks at me, then looks at Weston.
Nothing else happens through the rest of the show—which turns out to be pretty good. But as soon as it’s over, Petra disentangles herself from the two of us, and announces in an all-business tone, “Night, guys. I’m exhausted. Come on, Gus.” She practically runs up the stairs, leaving us with Weston’s hand still clasped around my neck.
“I thought you were looking kinda lonely over there for a while,” Weston says softly. “You know, there really isn’t anything going on between me and Petra, but, I’ll admit, I wouldn’t mind if there was.”
Even as he says the words, he gently strokes my neck with his fingers, sending chills down my back. It feels so good, I find myself leaning into his touch.
“So,” he adds, “who was the boner for?”
My face burns red, and I suddenly feel as if I’m about to swallow my tongue. I don’t even know how to answer that question. “Uh…” I answer brilliantly.
“Sorry. None of my business.” Weston also jumps up suddenly like the couch is on fire and calls his dogs. “Night, Callum. Thanks again for a great dinner. You rock.”
I feel like I have whiplash.
This has been a long and very strange day. Tomorrow, I have to go to work, and I wonder what my two work-at-home roommates will get up to while I’m out. No telling. But leaving them alone all day makes me feel weird. I wish I knew how to handle my attraction for both of them and could put a lid on it.
I watch a few more minutes of TV, but I’m just staring at the screen rather than enjoying it, so I shut it off and head upstairs. Weston is coming out of the laundry room with a basket of folded clothes, and we smile at each other in a bland, friendly way that gives nothing away. We silently head upstairs side-by-side, followed by Dave and Goliath. As we enter the upstairs hallway, there is a faint buzzing sound coming from inside Petra’s room, and someone is making soft whimpering noises. We stop dead in our tracks and hear a long moan and some whispered unintelligible words. The buzzing stops.
I’m so hard now, I can barely walk, and I would hazard a guess that Weston is as well, although the laundry basket blocks my view of his body. We lock eyes on each other and smirk. He cocks an eyebrow at me and tips his head toward his room, silently asking me to follow him in. I am so tempted, he must see it written all over me, but I shake my head and slip into my own bedroom.
The sexual tension in this house is going to be the death of me, but I find myself excited about it. There’s something about living here with the two of them that makes me feel alive like I’ve never felt before. It’s like an electric current zipping through me.
But I need to be professional. I need to be serious. I’m not a college kid anymore. It’s time to… oh fuck. I have no idea whatI’m telling myself. If I don’t get laid pretty soon, I’m going to explode.
Eight
Petra
It’s beenseveral weeks since Callum and I moved in, and I have to say that things have been running pretty smoothly. Callum’s cooking is amazing, and he truly seems to enjoy feeding us. He watches the grocery budget thoughtfully, too. The guy works with food all day and then comes home and cooks beautiful meals, or sometimes brings home leftovers from the classes he teaches. We’ve been treated to some rather exotic dishes this way. I’m not complaining, but I’ve had to increase my workouts to combat the extra calories I’ve been consuming.
Callum has gone home a few times to have dinner with his family, but he makes sure we have leftovers to heat up when he’s gone. When he gets back, he always seems refreshed somehow. It makes me wonder what it’s like to have a real family.
It’s great that Weston has a set of weights and an exercise bike I can use when he’s not working in that room, plus I do some yoga. I’d like to add a run in the morning, but I got out of the habit when I started worrying about being followed by Randy. The idea just gave me the willies, thinking I’d be awayfrom home on foot and might be accosted by that creep. I’ll talk to Weston about it. Maybe he’d like to take up running with me. Or maybe Callum would.
These guys. Holy cow. Weston’s such a kind-hearted, gorgeous, sexy guy. I know he likes me too, but he seems conflicted about that somehow. He’s always looking out for us, making sure everyone is happy. And Callum may be a few years younger, but he seems so focused on his career—like cooking for us is his ticket to a Michelin star or something. He’s always asking questions about how we like what he fixes and if it should be different in any way. And what a sweetheart. When he’s not cooking or feeding us, I see him making entries all the time in a notebook he keeps. I asked him why he doesn’t use a computer for that, but he laughed and said he often gets inspired to write something down while he’s cooking, and he got tired of having to clean smudges of flour and whatnot off his keyboard. Makes sense, I guess. Anyway, he sure is a hottie. Seems mature for a fairly recent college grad too. I wonder how old he really is. Maybe he started college late, and he’s older than I assume.
It’s only in the evenings when we watch movies together that everyone seems to really relax around each other. We always snuggle together on the couch like a pile of puppies, and there has been plenty of hugging and innocent-seeming cheek kisses going around. This is always my favorite time of all. I can’t deny the true affection we each have for one another, but the growing sexual tension is about to make me combust if I’m totally honest. I’ve noticed both guys getting hard, but no one seems to want to broach the topic or do anything about it. It’s confusing to me. I kind of love it in a way, but often I end up using my vibrator after the movie is over. A girl needs some release, after all.
Weston is getting busier and busier with his counseling. At first, I would sit at the desk in my room to write, but I was uncomfortable hearing him talk to his clients online. It wasn’tlike I could hear everything unless someone on the other end of the conversation started yelling, but I quickly decided to take my laptop downstairs or head outside for a few hours when the weather warmed up. Once it gets too hot or too humid, I head in and sit in the hearth room to write. It always seems homey and comfortable to me. Gus seems to like this arrangement. He’s getting along perfectly with Goliath and Dave, even though Dave still wants to herd the bigger dogs. The little squirt cracks me up.
I vaguely remember Callum saying something about leftovers and lunch today as he left the house, but I hadn’t had enough coffee yet to really process what he said. I was up too late writing last night, I guess. But I’m definitely feeling hungry, so I save the work on my laptop and call up to Weston to ask if he’s ready to help me get lunch together. We may not be great cooks, but we can nuke Callum’s goodies like nobody’s business.
“Be right down!” he calls. Almost immediately, he thunders down the stairs with his dogs following him. He absently shoves a lock of hair out of his eyes, and I get the unbidden urge to do that for him and run my fingers through his silky tresses.
As usual, he’s not wearing a shirt. He’s barefoot and wearing shorts today, but some days it’s jeans. So this time, I ask in a flirty tone, “Are you allergic to clothes or something? It’s not as if I mind it, but…?” I can’t help but stare at his torso with a grin.
Weston looks down like he wasn’t even aware he was half-naked and laughs. “When I talk to clients, all they can see is my chest and face, and I always wear a dress shirt to look professional. I don’t want to wear it any longer than I have to, so as soon as I’m done with calls, I take it off and hang it up. It saves a little on laundry that way. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I can go grab a T-shirt. I’m sorry. I just got so used to doing this when I was on my own, I stopped thinking about it.”
Laughing, I tell him, “Maybe you’d increase your business even more if you left it off during the calls too.”
Weston spears me with a look that makes me all fluttery inside. “So, you like what you see?”
