Limitless Love: A Polyamorous Charity Anthology

Chapter 4

SIX MONTHS LATER

Date night was weird. Nice, but weird. Keenan didn’t really understand it, but it made Evan and Drew happy, so it was whatever. One night of the week—a set night once Keenan and Drew had their roster—where they picked a place to go and spend time together. Sometimes it was a restaurant, like tonight. Sometimes it was bowling, or a movie, or one memorable time at the arcade where Evan showed his true colours as a racing shark. Asshole hadn’t even warned them. He’d never been good at arcade games before; where had that come from?

Sitting at the round table in the downtown restaurant, meals served and everyone relaxed, seemed the best time to bring up something important that had been rolling around in his mind for a few weeks now.

So why couldn’t he find the words?

“Kee?”

Keenan lifted his head. “Mmm?”

“You haven’t touched your food,” Evan pointed out. He frowned, placing his fork next to his lasagne and vegetables. “We can go somewhere else if?—”

“No, it’s great,” Keenan blurted. Too enthusiastically if their looks were anything to go by. Should have toned it down. He didn’t get that excited over anything.

“What’s wrong with you?” Drew asked, raising a brow. “Something’s been bothering you all week. You think I haven’t noticed?”

“Is it us?” Evan asked, voice small. “Or me? I thought we were doing well, but maybe I?—”

“We are,” Keenan said. “They’re great. Everything’s perfect.” And it was. He’d had more than one misgiving, trying to make this triad work, but it had been nothing short of amazing. They all worked like a finely tuned guitar. Smooth… and twangy? Okay, that wasn’t the right analogy. But they just worked in a way he hadn’t expected. In a way he didn’t think any of them had been quite expecting. Like they’d just been waiting for the three of them to be in the same room for the world to align itself. When he needed space, they gave it to him. When they were together, it was like magic. And if the sex got any better, his head might explode.

He had to admit that the nights he spent alone now always felt like something was missing.

“What is it, then?” Drew asked. “I only like edging when I’m the one doing it.”

“Idon’tthinkweshouldworktogetheranymore,” Keenan said in a rush.

Drew tilted his head. “I didn’t catch any of that,” he said with a chuckle.

“I don’t think we should work together anymore,” he said, slower, curbing the panic. Somewhat.

Drew froze. “What? Kee, we talked about this.”

“I know. I’m not breaking up with you. It’s not like that. This isn’t… like last time. I just don’t think we should be partners at work anymore. I love you, and I…” This was so fucking stupid. Just say it. “I want to put you as my emergency contact. Both of you. And that means having to tell people.” He’d been terrified the first time they’d tried dating that someone would just look at him and know how gone for Drew he was, and one of them would lose their badge or worse. Not because they were gay, but because they were partners, and fraternisation rules were pretty clear. And his fears had never been particularly rational or well thought out, he could admit now.

“You want to tell people?” Drew said, a smile growing on his face. “I love you too, Kee, but you don’t ever have to do that. It’s not a requirement, and I’m not waiting for you to be okay with it or anything. I’m happy with the way things are. I’ve got both of you. What else do I need?”

“I want to.” This wasn’t because he was worried that Drew would eventually get sick of it. He wanted to do it. Because he was done hiding any of this, and he wanted to move forward. In his career, and in their relationship.

Evan’s bright smile lit up the table as he reached out and took Drew’s hand.

Keenan wasn’t into PDA, regardless of their relationship status, but seeing them like this, so open and together, made warmth burst in his chest. He hadn’t really believed this would work, but it was like they had a sixth sense for when the panic reached his throat. Or more accurately, his feet, when his flight instinct kicked in. They closed ranks, calming him like a wild animal. He couldn’t even be mad about being the animal in that analogy. It wasn’t wrong.

Looking at them and being with them wasn’t a miracle cure, but they were so fucking patient and understanding with his irrational behaviour; how could he do anything but try his best and let them help him ride out the waves?

“Should one of us apply for a different station?” Drew asked. “I’m not ready to retire just yet.” He reached over and speared a piece of Evan’s broccolini, where it had been left to languish in the mashed potato and gravy. Evan took a chip from Drew’s plate, dipping it in his mashed potato before popping it into his mouth.

“Actually, I want to apply to become a detective,” Keenan said tentatively. “I’ve been thinking about it a while, and I know it’s a long shot, and it’s hard to do, but I think I could do it.” He knew he could do it.

“I think that sounds great,” Drew replied, smile wide.

Keenan returned it, unable to do anything but. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Keenan leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs under the table. He only hit Drew’s and Evan’s because they were stretched out themselves. They immediately curled their ankles around his, drawn like moths to a flame.

“Well, alright,” Keenan said. He’d look into specifics in the morning and get the ball rolling. The second he was somewhere else, he was putting them both as his emergency contacts.

“Um, so…” Evan absently pushed his carrots around. No matter how much they tried, he was never going to be a big vegetable lover. He wasn’t much of a salad lover either. He did like his mashed potato. Anything made out of potatoes, really. When they went out, there was a lot of food swapping until everyone got their ideal meal.

“I was thinking…” Evan hesitated. “I bought a bigger bed.”

“We know,” Keenan said, snickering. “We were with you when we bought it.” He’d had more fun trying out all the beds in the furniture store than actually buying the bed, but they’d all left happy. “I can actually get some leg room now.”

Drew gave him an amused once-over. “Do you need leg room?”

Keenan flipped him off.

“It would be nice if it could be filled with three people every night, maybe,” Evan said slowly, deliberately. “If that—if you?—”

Keenan blinked. Wait.

“Are you asking us to move in with you?” Drew asked.

Evan nervously fiddled with his napkin. “Yes. If you want. It’s okay if you don’t. And maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but I want you in my space, you know? I want lazy Sunday mornings guaranteed—when you aren’t working, of course. And I want to spend every night arguing with you about what to watch on TV, and what we’re going to have for dinner. If you need more time to decide, or more time before you want to, that’s okay. It’s just an idea. An offer. Saying no is okay, and I don’t want you feeling, like, bad or anything if you don’t want to. Or like you can’t say no, Keenan. Because you can, and it doesn’t mean you have to leave or?—”

“Hey, whoa, calm down,” Keenan said. He took Evan’s hand, halting the way he was tearing his napkin into small pieces. “Yes.”

“Yes?” Evan’s lips parted, red spreading across his pale cheeks. “You—what?”

“Yes, I’ll move in with you.” He’d already started hating sleeping alone. It was the perfect solution. “Can’t speak for Drew, but I want to. And not because I don’t want you to feel bad. I want all the same things you do. I know I’m not as good at showing it as you guys are, but you know how much I love you.” He bit his lip. “Just please don’t propose.”

Evan laughed, the sound carrying across the restaurant and causing a few people to turn his way. Keenan understood. It was a beautiful sound, worthy of admiration.

“Deal,” Evan said. He squeezed Keenan’s hand. “What we have now is all I’ll ever need. As long as you’re both with me.”

“What about you?” Keenan asked Drew. “Coming to steal my leg space?”

“Abso-fuckin-lutely.”

Guess he needed to find some packing boxes.

* * *

ANOTHER SIX MONTHS LATER

Drew lethimself into the house, smiling at the horrible sounds of Evan’s singing that swept over him. Fuck, he was terrible. So atrociously bad, he scared the neighbour’s cat. And Drew loved every second of it.

He found Evan in the kitchen, peeling carrots. His phone was on the corner of the bench, the low sounds of “Happy” by Pharrell Williams playing from it. Evan was making up his own words as he stared intently at the bowl he was stirring, hips swinging. Scattered over the bench were various dips, chips, cheeses, and meats.

Drew came up behind Evan and kissed the back of his neck, wrapping him up in a hug. “Hi, honey, I’m home.”

“Hi, honey, you’re late,” Evan said warmly. He reached over and scooped a corn chip into the bowl he’d been stirring—some kind of lumpy white mixture. “Here, try this.” He cupped his hand under the chip and fed it to him.

He chewed thoughtfully. “S’good.” He ate another one for good measure. “Are we having a party?” he asked.

Evan paused. “Please don’t tell me that you forgot my boss and some of my colleagues are coming for dinner tonight?”

Drew pretended to think about it, then kissed Evan on the forehead, lingering. “I remembered. When are they getting here?” Evan had been preparing for it—and stressing about it—for weeks now. Drew would be a pretty shitty boyfriend if he’d forgotten.

“Not for another hour. Dinner is in the oven already. Have you heard from Kee? I can’t get hold of him.”

“Haven’t tried him, but it’s his first day, so you might want to give him some leeway. Let me go have a shower, get changed into something presentable, and then I’ll help you with”—he gestured at the bench—“all this.”

Evan gave him a distracted kiss, and Drew chuckled, heading for the bathroom. Still a shame they couldn’t all fit, but Drew hoped eventually they’d buy a place together. If they had to, they could renovate that bathroom if the shower wasn’t big enough. One day, he’d get them all under the spray.

By the time he got out and padded barefoot back into the kitchen, Keenan was there, looking like he’d just rolled through the door. Literally, with the way his new suit was askew, and his hair was sticking up.

“How was your first day?” Drew asked, tugging him into his arms for a kiss before lifting him up onto a stool so he was more eye to eye.

“Batshit crazy. Amazing. These guys are the weirdest, most insane team I’ve ever been part of.”

Drew smirked and kissed the side of Keenan’s head. “You love it.” There’d been some concern when they’d learned that a friend”s ex worked at the station, but if someone couldn’t handle Keenan’s ire, then they didn’t deserve to have the title detective.

“I fucking love it.”

“How’s the boss?” Drew thanked Evan quietly when he handed him the bowl of homemade dip and the corn chips.

“Senior Sergeant Sinclair? I can’t tell if I love him or hate him. Depends what time of the day you ask me.”

“I’ve heard that,” Drew said, chuckling. The guy was pretty famous in all circles for a multitude of reasons, depending on who was asked. He hand-fed Keenan a chip after he dipped it. “What do you think?”

“It’s good. You make this?” Keenan asked.

Evan nodded and then disappeared into the pantry.

“He came with us on our first callout,” Keenan said. “To observe, and I was so amped up. My head is exploding with information.”

Drew couldn’t help kissing him. The enthusiasm was infectious, the animation on Keenan’s face, his bright eyes and red cheeks. When he got truly passionate about something, he was a sight to behold.

They both were. Every night he came home to them was like a fever dream. The last year together had been better than even he could have imagined when he’d taken that first step and helped the two of them find each other again.

One disturbance call had changed their lives, and Drew had been living on cloud nine ever since.

“So…” Evan said, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he came back with a bag of fresh bread rolls in his hands. “Now that I have you both here, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“We’re not getting fish,” Keenan said automatically. “They’re creepy, Ev.”

“I still can’t believe you think fish are creepy,” Drew said, snickering.

“They look at you with those eyes. They follow you. They breathe underwater. That’s not normal.”

“They’re fish,” Evan said. “All sea creatures do that?”

“I rest my case.”

Evan snorted. He put the rolls down and circled the bench, sliding behind Keenan and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, hands resting on his chest. “Well, I wasn’t going to suggest fish, luckily for you. I think we should get a cat.”

Keenan blinked. “A cat?”

Evan nuzzled his cheek. “Yeah, you know, a little furry thing that meows and wakes you up at two a.m. demanding food.”

“You’re really selling this,” Keenan drawled.

“We can’t get a cat,” Drew said. He spread Keenan’s knees and settled between his legs, running his hands up Evan’s arms, hugging them both.

“Why not?” Evan asked, face crestfallen.

“If there’s only one, it would get lonely.” He held up two fingers. “We should get two cats.”

Keenan snorted.

“You said it that way on purpose!” Evan accused.

Drew kissed him soundly, tipping his head back as he tasted the dip and chips on his tongue. “Would I do that?” he whispered, grinning.

“Yes.”

“I guess we could go into the RSPCA?” Keenan said, resting his head back against Evan’s shoulder. “There are rescues and shit there, right? Only two, though. We can’t get all of them. Or even three. Don’t you need a permit for that?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe?”

Keenan twisted his head. “We’re getting two. Swear it, right here, right now, Ev.”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious, Ev. Two.”

“I heard you the first time.”

Keenan narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, but I don’t think you’re listening to me.”

Evan smiled. He reached over and grabbed the bowl of dip. “Chip?”

“He’s not listening to me.” Keenan gestured at Evan. “Drew, tell him.”

Drew wasn’t getting involved in this. He lifted his shirt and pretended to smell himself. Soap and a clean T-shirt, of course. “I need to go shower before everyone gets here.”

He rushed out of the room, ignoring Keenan’s yell of, “You showered at the station, you fucking liar!”

“Actually, he showered when he got home,” Evan answered.

“That’s even worse. Drew, get back here!”