Limitless Love: A Polyamorous Charity Anthology

1. Sage

“Oh my god, is that a bomb on your arm?”

Sage smiled around gritted teeth when the woman leaned over the empty bar stool between them and traced a line along his inked forearm. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, shifting away from her flirtatious touch. This was why he didn’t come to bars alone, especially those catering to servicemembers. Between the regulation hair and the tattoos, he was too easy to clock as military and too straight-passing to avoid the women drawn to military guys like catnip.

The host refused to sit an incomplete party in the dining area, but was a quiet drink too much to ask while Sage waited for the guys to arrive? The loud rock music in the bar area grated on his nerves. He didn’t remember this place looking so rundown, but years had passed since they visited any of their old haunts south of Baltimore. He hoped the food measured up to his memory, especially when the tantalizing aroma from the nearby kitchen doorway snarled his stomach with hunger.

The woman moved out of his space, but the way she giggled and positioned her arms atop the scuffed bar to best display her assets meant Sage remained in her crosshairs. “So, like, are you in the Army?”

“No, ma’am. Air Force.” The pisspot tattoo with the Maryland flag motif was a relic of Sage’s time with munitions before he’d matured enough to figure out he should find a career field that would also serve him once he retired from full-time service.

Her eyes widened, telegraphing her next question. Luckily, rescue appeared in the form of Weston slipping into the empty seat between them. He pressed a quick kiss to Sage’s temple. “Sorry I’m late. Lots of gremlins in the machines today.” The woman visibly deflated at Weston’s physical affection.

Of course, Weston always greeted him outside of work this way since they’d started fucking a few months ago. Though while he enjoyed the hint of bergamot from Weston’s body wash, a scent even more delicious than any of those from the kitchen, Sage suppressed the twist in his gut now as familiar as it was painful. “Everything okay?”

Weston flagged the bartender to place his order, then launched into a rambling narrative about the afternoon’s problems during his biweekly visit to Andrews Air Force Base. Sage tracked most of it, happy to let his best friend’s light drawl roll over him. His fingers itched for Weston’s thigh, but he kept his hands to himself. Aspects of their friendship may have moved to the next level, but Weston had always made his aromantic preferences clear. Sage appreciated what they shared enough to never push his lover’s limits with the ‘boyfriend stuff’ in public.

He drained the last of his beer and frowned into the glass. Sage wasn’t Weston’s boyfriend. Sage was the idiot in love with two of his favorite people. He should be content with the physical benefits now accompanying his treasured friendship with one of them. And they’d get to see Val today since a work trip brought the other part of their childhood trio to their side of the country. He had no damned reason to frown.

But sue him if this wasn’t quite how he’d expected his life to look. At least Weston never expected Sage to fake a good mood for him, content to ramble with brief pauses for Sage’s input about the batch of baby airmen who’d recently joined their unit.

Once Weston also finished his beer, Sage jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Hey, they’ll seat us now if we want to grab a table.”

Weston checked his smartwatch. “We’ve got a minute.” He ordered two shots of vodka from the bartender.

Sage groaned and dropped his chin to his chest. “Really?”

“Absolutely. It’s tradition.” Weston accepted the drinks and nudged one to Sage. He lifted his in the air. “To lost friends. Never forgotten.”

His action caught the notice of the flirt again, who turned moony-eyed as she pressed a palm to her heart. She raised her cocktail to join the toast, whispering furiously to the woman on her other side, who did the same. This caused a chain reaction among more nearby patrons, even catching the bartender’s attention.

Okay, Weston was doing this bit again. Fucking troll. Sage lifted his shot. “Lost friends, never forgotten.”