Chapter 10
FINN
In the course of the night, I’d sucked Daniel’s cock, I’d kissed him senseless, and I’d drunk more than a reasonable amount.
Between the liquor at dinner, the wine on arrival, and the follow up Manhattan, my head was not where I needed it to be in order to have whatever kind of conversation Daniel, Sophie, and I needed to have.
“Come with me to check on her?” he suggested, the last word barely tipping up into a question.
“This feels like a proposition.” I stood, steadying myself against the arm of the couch so I didn’t take a header onto the floor.
“You good?” Daniel asked, reaching out and grabbing my forearm.
I really needed to lay off the drinking. As if an afternoon in the drunk tank hadn’t already taught me that lesson. Now I was in the home of a man I’d taken to bed more than once, being led down the hallway to the bedroom he shared with a gorgeous woman who most likely also wanted to fuck me.
“Debatable,” I answered honestly.
“Do you need to sit down?”
“No,” I said. “I need to quit drinking.”
“Will you?”
The door at the end of the hall was closed, a soft white light filtering out into the hallway.
“Probably not.”
Daniel rapped his knuckles against the bedroom door, counted to five, then pushed it open.
Sophie was on the bed when we came in, and she looked up at the both of us with a tentative little smile.
Her laptop was open on the bed beside her, her cell phone on her thigh, wine glass in hand.
In person, the room looked exactly the same as it had when she called me earlier in the evening.
The same rich green on the walls and the ceiling, the white oak bedroom set.
The wall by the door had a long dresser that matched the rest of the space.
It held some framed photos, a glass tray with candles in various stages of their life.
There was a window on the far wall, white blinds and velvet curtains pulled back around gold hooks.
It was very much not Daniel, I knew that at least.
His old apartment had been furnished well for a bachelor, but he didn’t have near the taste his future wife apparently held.
“Did you boys settle everything?” Sophie asked, raising her wine and taking a sip. She had maybe half a glass left before she was empty.
We’d all had so much to drink.
Enough that when she called me and Daniel boys, a very unexpected rush of heat pooled in my stomach.
I was still so hard from sucking Daniel off on the couch, from kissing him.
He would have gotten me off, but I’d foolishly—or preferably—been the one to put a stop to it.
I hadn’t wanted to go behind Sophie’s back. Hadn’t wanted to…fuck.
I didn’t even know.
“I think we’re in agreement,” Daniel told her and I managed to smile and nod along with him.
“You look flushed, Finn,” she said.
“A little too much to drink,” I admitted. “And the dick sucking didn’t help.”
The corner of her mouth quirked into a smile. “Who did the sucking?”
I gestured to myself with a marginal level of flourish, which earned me an understated laugh. Sophie stretched toward the nightstand and set her wine and phone down, eyeing me curiously.
“What?” I rasped.
“And now you’re here,” she said.
“Now I’m here.”
“Are you too drunk to talk about rules?”
“I’m relatively confident I’ll remember all of this for the rest of my life, so we can probably manage that.
If we’re there, I mean.” I swallowed hard, leaning against the doorframe so I didn’t fall over.
That failure in my legs had nothing to do with the drinking and everything to do with the fact standing in their bedroom felt a lot like signing my own death warrant.
“Are we?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Do you want to be?”
“Maybe.”
“Too drunk to be sure?”
“Probably.” I dropped my head against the wall and took a deep breath. It was nowhere near enough to clear my head.
“You can’t drive home,” Daniel said gently.
He was still so close to me, right there in the doorway, Sophie still on the bed.
“I can call a car. Come back tomorrow for mine.”
“Or you could spend the night,” he said.
I leveled an unimpressed look at him before he quickly clarified, “In the guest room.”
“We can talk in the morning,” Sophie suggested. “Or we can have some nachos and see if the cheese soaks up enough of the wine for you to feel better about talking tonight.”
I wouldn’t have gone so far as to say there was a hint of hope in Sophie’s voice, but her eagerness was certainly not lost on me.
“Even if it doesn’t work, I’m happy to see what miracles are possible from melted cheese,” I said.
Sophie unfolded herself from the bed and closed the lid of her laptop.
She was gorgeous, so fucking gorgeous, with pale skin and golden hair, curious eyes, and the most perfectly manicured fingers and toes I’d ever seen.
I tried to not stare, even though it was clear she welcomed the attention, at least from me, especially from Daniel.
She reached him first and pressed her hand against the center of his chest, lifting onto her toes to brush a delicate kiss across his mouth.
“Whiskey,” she murmured.
Daniel angled his head toward me, and with her mouth still soft against his, her stare flickered to me. I could have died.
I should have.
Sophie took my hand in hers and raised it to her lips, dusting a kiss across the tops of my knuckles. It was much like the kiss I’d given her earlier, and terribly far from the kind of kiss I wanted it to be. But, as usual, I found myself in a hell of my own making.
“Daniel makes the best nachos,” Sophie said, gently lowering my hand back down to my side.
“I’m sure.”
“Would you make us all some nachos?”
“Of course,” Daniel agreed, leaving Sophie and me in the doorway of their bedroom and apparently taking all of the air with him.
Sophie waited until cabinets opened and closed in the kitchen, the recognizable suction sound of a fridge door opening.
“Did you hurt him?” she asked. “Before.”
“Probably.”
“He never told me.”
“Maybe that’s for the better,” I said with a frown. “All things considered.”
What I truly hoped was Daniel’s omission of our history and our experience meant that I hadn’t caused as much damage as I’d feared.
“Did you hurt yourself?” she asked next.
“Very much.”
Sophie made a thoughtful sound and tilted her head toward the hallway. “Nachos?”
It felt unfair in a way for things to be that simple. Forgiveness offered as a blow job, accepted with a late-night meal and a kiss against the top of my hand. It was too easy, too hard to trust.
“Nachos,” I agreed.
Sophie hooked her pinky finger around mine and walked me back to the dining room where she sat me down back into my original seat at the table. Daniel was in the kitchen, nachos already in the oven.
“Won’t be long,” he said.
Sophie poured me a glass of water from the tap and joined me at the table.
Daniel came after her and sat down, and she immediately angled her body toward his and dropped her feet into his lap.
There wasn’t much to say except everything, and when Daniel started to rub Sophie’s feet—unsolicited—I turned my attention toward my water.
Less than a minute later, the timer over the stove went off.
Daniel untangled himself from Sophie’s legs and went into the kitchen.
He returned with a baking sheet full of chips, layered edge to edge with cheese and diced onions and chopped jalapenos.
I didn’t have time to process what a weird thing it was for them to have those items ready to go in the fridge unless they made a habit of late-night nachos, which was entirely possible.
Sophie spread a towel on the table and Daniel set down the tray.
He went back for plates and salsa, distributing everything before sliding back into his seat.
Sophie wasted no time digging in, and it was maybe the only part of their relationship I wouldn’t need an invitation for.
The nachos were simple, greasy, and perfect.
It took no time at all for the cheese to do its job and by the time the three of us had silently—save for the occasional moan and groan of approval—worked through the whole meal, I felt far more myself than I had at the threshold of their bedroom.
“That was a great idea, Sophie.” I glanced at Daniel. “Thank you for cooking them.”
“It was no work at all.”
“But thank you,” I repeated.
“You’re welcome, Finn,” he said softly.
“Do you think you want to have that conversation tonight or…”
“Maybe some of it tonight,” I said. “Like the dynamic you’re hoping for.”
Sophie huffed out a laugh and leaned back in her chair. I realized she hadn’t touched her wine since she’d brought me out of the bedroom, but I’d put back the whole glass of water like I’d never tasted anything better.
“I told you before, unfortunately there may be some trial and error.”
“Are you wanting someone to be with both of you, like, only as a unit of three?” I asked, trying to clarify the intent of my question. “Or, like, you and someone and Daniel and someone, and maybe that someone and the two of you at the same time?”
“I think in a perfect world, the latter,” she said.
“We aren’t talking about someone,” Daniel corrected, shaking his head. “Right here and now, we’re talking about you.”
“Four relationships, then?” I asked, looking at Sophie. “Me and Daniel, you and Daniel, me and you, and the three of us together.”
She blew out a breath and shrugged one shoulder. “Math is not my preferred communication style. I think numbers are more your speed.”
“But that’s what you want.”
Sophie pursed her lips and lobbed the question back at me, “What do you want?”
That was more of a loaded question than she could ever understand. A question I didn’t even think I had the answer to, though with every day between me and Neil and Annette, I was getting closer to it.
“Everything,” I answered her honestly. “I’m a middle child. I’m a little bit needy and I’m a whole lot selfish.”
“You’re generous,” Daniel interrupted. “And you’re kind.”
I flashed him a smile. “I contain multitudes.”
“Here’s what I want,” Daniel said, shoving his hair back from his face before speaking.
“I want to take you on a date, and I want to bring you back here, and I want to watch you fuck Sophie until she screams. I want you to take her on a date, and I want the two of you to get a hotel room and send me pictures of it. I want the three of us to watch a movie together and see how bendable our legs are.”
“Now who’s the greedy one,” I teased.
Daniel rolled his eyes at me. “The point being, I want all of us to be whatever we want to be.”
“I’m attracted to you,” Sophie said, interrupting. “Daniel is obviously attracted to you, and you to him. I think you find me attractive as well.”
“So much,” I whispered.
“Can’t we just see what happens?” she asked.
God, I wanted that, and I wanted to give her that.
But thinking about going into something with them that had no definitions around the relationship was enough to give me hives.
I suspected what Daniel had put into the space would work well for the three of us, but it was the uncertainty that had me nervous.
I didn’t want things to turn imbalanced or impartial, though maybe letting us be so open for interpretation was the only thing that could stop that from happening.
If I tried to separate my want for them or force them to separate their desire for each other—or me—into boxes, it was possible the corners would break and the whole thing would fold. There had to be some flexibility, I told myself, even if it made me nervous.
“Okay,” I conceded. “We can see what happens. But this has to be closed.”
“Consider it done,” Daniel said at the same time Sophie told me, “Absolutely.”
The two of them reached for each other under the table, sharing a knowing glance that twisted a knot of jealousy in the back of my throat.
But before I could even try to swallow past it, Sophie laid her other hand on top of the table, palm up.
It was a lifeline, and I took it gladly.
She squeezed my hand, and I marveled at the way her fingers wrapped around mine.
“There has to be communication,” I said, hating how desperate it sounded. “No jealousy, nothing spiteful.”
“Of course,” she agreed. “And never.”
“I don’t want to be part of your fights. I mean, I don’t want to be a tool in them.”
Daniel’s breath hitched and he blinked at me, expression unreadable.
No, I hadn’t told them much, if anything, about what had happened, and ideally I wanted to keep it that way.
The things I let Neil and Annette put me through, the things I put myself through for them embarrassed me, made me feel weak.
I was ready to be done with all of that. To move onward and upward.
“Promise,” Daniel whispered, putting his hand on the table. Just like Sophie’s, palm up.
I scratched the side of my nose, silently cursed my heart for never being satisfied, and slipped my hand into his.