Chapter 4 Vince
FOUR
VINCE
I’m going to hell.
The road to hell is paved with inappropriate boners, or however the saying goes, and I am on a first-class one-way ticket to H-E-double-hockey-sticks. My seat on the southbound is solidified as a man who watched his best friend kiss his girlfriend and didn’t hate it.
I feel like hating it would be an appropriate response, but as hard as I try to convince myself that I hated it, the truth is pressing against my boxers, mocking my attempt to shape this into anything other than what it is.
I liked it.
Any pansexual deviant would enjoy watching two insanely attractive women going at it, but it’s not just the kiss that has me feeling so conflicted. It’s the way Ollie leaned into it, kissing Kat like she was the air she needed to breathe. Like she was desperate for it. Like she thought about it.
Kat isn't my first partner to bring up how often we hang out with Ollie. She is the first to get wet at the thought of her, though.
So. Fucking. Wet.
Last night, my intentions were less than gentlemanly, initially seeking out the hate fuck of a lifetime, but seeing how turned on Kat got from one kiss only made me want to give her everything she’s ever asked for. I will serve her Ollie’s pussy on a gold fucking platter. Garnish and all.
Every relationship I’ve ever had crumbled into jealousy and pettiness about Ollie. Not that I blame my partners for wanting more of my attention, but I guess I never felt strongly enough about anybody to fight for any of them to stay, not until Kat.
From the moment we met, I hoped Kat would be the one to stick around. The one who wouldn’t see Ollie as competition. The one who wouldn’t ask me to choose. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect Kat to gravitate toward Ollie. To want to be around Ollie, seemingly as much as I do.
My cock enthusiastically agrees with this turn of events as I watch Kat shuffle around the kitchen with more pep in her step than I’ve ever seen.
She’s wearing one of my old band t-shirts and pastel pink cotton shorts that barely cover her ass. Her red curls are piled messily on top of her head, and she’s humming to herself as she pours sausage gravy over two plates of biscuits.
She turns, with both plates in hand, and catches me staring. A slow, knowing smile spreads across her lips, and my heart stutters.
She sets the plates down on the table, takes her seat, then leans against the edge, crossing her arms under her chest. The movement pushes her tits up, the thin fabric of my old t-shirt straining against them. I can just barely make out the outline of her nipples through the material.
"You're staring," she says, her voice teasing.
"Just admiring what’s mine.”
She rolls her eyes, “You’re ridiculous,” but the smile doesn’t move from her lips. She picks up her fork and cuts into her biscuit, her eyes flicker to the stairs before refocusing on her plate.
“She’ll be down soon. You know, Ollie, she rarely wakes up before noon,” I say, going for a reassuring casual, but the crack in my voice betrays me.
Kat’s fork hovers over her plate. “I know,” she says, her voice soft. “I just hope she’s okay. You don’t think she left, do you?”
I shake my head, taking a sip of my coffee to avoid answering. The truth is, I don’t know what to expect from Ollie. Not after last night. Which is why I was up most of the night making sure she wasn’t a flight risk in the middle of the night.
The sunlight through the cabin’s sheer curtains paints Kat’s skin in gold, making her freckles glow like constellations. I want to map them all, to know every one by heart, but the worry in her eyes is palpable.
I reach across the table, my fingers brushing against her arm.
“Kat, look at me.” She lifts her gaze, her eyes wide and searching. “Ollie doesn’t run away from the things she wants. She runs toward them. Head fucking first.”
Kat’s eyes halt, locking onto mine like something just clicked into place.
“Okay, now I’m nervous for a whole different reason,” she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. She sets her fork down on her plate and leans back in her chair. “What if she runs toward me?”
I chuckle, but the sound gets stuck in my throat when I catch the way her pulse jumps in her neck. “Do you want her to run toward you?”
Kat hesitates, chewing on her bottom lip. Then she gives a tiny nod.
“Then you’d better be ready to catch her.”
“You would seriously be okay with that? With sharing me with…with Ollie?”
I take a slow breath, my fingers tightening around my coffee mug. The heat from the ceramic burns into my palm, grounding me in the moment.
“If it’s something you both want, I’m not going to be the guy to stop it from happening.” The words leave my mouth faster than I can think. “I’ve shared a lot of things with Ollie. Never a person. But, you would be my favorite thing I have in common with her.”
Kat’s eyes widen as she stares at me, her lips slightly parted. The air between us feels charged, like the moment before a storm breaks.
“You’re serious,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Let me ask you this…do you feel guilty about kissing Ollie?”
“No…I mean…not exactly,” she says, fighting with her words. “I honestly expected to regret it. I thought I was going to wake up drowning in guilt, but instead I feel…relief.”
“Relief?” The word tastes strange, but it unlocks something tight in my own chest.
She nods. “I thought wanting Ollie meant something was broken with us,” she admits, almost hesitant. Her lips part, and for a second, I think she’s going to say something more, but the sound of footsteps on the stairs cuts through the tension like a knife.
We both turn toward the hallway just as Ollie appears, her black hair tucked behind her ears, dressed in jean shorts and a black crop top, her tattoos on full display, her expression unreadable.
“Ollie!” Kat practically yelps, jumping up from the table. “I made breakfast!”
Ollie freezes in the doorway, her eyes glued to Kat as she scurries across the kitchen and starts assembling a fresh plate of sausage gravy.
“Thank you,” Ollie finally says, and shuffles to the table.
Her movements are all wrong—stiff, like a robot learning to assimilate with humans. Incredible how a woman who dances on bar tops and argues with cops is now reduced to a hesitant whisper after just one kiss.
She slides into the chair farthest from me, keeping her gaze fixed on the plate Kat sits in front of her.
“Smells good,” she says, her voice flat.
The silence that follows is a physical thing, thick and choking. Kat’s hopeful smile starts to wilt at the edges. I watch Ollie shrink into herself, her shoulders hunched, and something hot and sour coils in my gut.
I hate this. I hate the brittle tension, the way she’s folding in on herself like a paper doll. This isn't like her. This isn’t Ollie. Not my Ollie.
“So,” Kat tries again. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Yeah,” Ollie nods, a tight, jerky motion.
The confident woman who kissed Kat with a desperate hunger is gone, replaced by this stranger made of nervous tics and evasion. I can’t stand it for another second. I push my chair back, the legs scraping loudly against the wood floor. They both flinch.
“I’m going to head into town,” I say, my voice startlingly normal in the thick air. “I need some ingredients for dinner.”
Kat’s eyes dart to me, wide with question, and I can’t help but smile and throw her a wink.
“You’re leaving? Now?” Ollie asks, looking up at me for the first time this morning.
“Yeah. You two should…hang out,” I say, grabbing my keys from the bowl on the counter. “Enjoy the cabin. I’ll be a while.”
I make it halfway down the hall when I hear the scraping of a chair across the floor, followed by a set of footsteps.
“What are you doing?” Ollie says, falling in line as I walk out onto the front porch. “Vince!”
“As I said, I’m going to the store.”
“Oh my god, will you stop and please just fucking talk to me for a second. I hate it when you’re upset with me. It makes my skin itch.” Ollie pleads, but I don’t give in.
“I’m not upset…with you or Kat.”
“Of course you're upset! And you have every right to be! I don’t know what came over me. She kissed me, and it was like I wasn’t in control of my body anymore.
I know how fucked up that sounds, and I feel horrible, but it just poured out of me like every ounce of restraint I’ve ever had just snapped. ”
“Restraint?” I stop abruptly and turn to her. She looks taken aback, like she let slip something that was never supposed to see the light of day. “So you do have feelings for her?”
“No.” She’s lying. “Of course not. She’s your girlfriend.”
“And? I was dating David Brennan when he tried to kiss you, and you punched him in the dick.”
I can see her shoulders slump, as if the silence holds all the answers.
“I didn’t lie awake at night wondering what David Brennan tastes like,” she says, and my chest explodes.
My breath catches in my throat as I process what she’s just admitted. Ollie’s always been bold, but this is different—raw and vulnerable in a way I’ve never seen from her before.
“You never said anything.”
“What the fuck was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Vince, I’ve been in love with your girlfriend since the day I met her? Sorry for ruining two decades of friendship.’ Fuck!”
I let out a heavy breath. I was sure she had the hots for Kat, but I didn’t know she was in so deep. I run my hand through my hair as she kicks a stray pebble off the porch.
“I already packed my things last night. I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”
“You are not fucking leaving?” I demand, my voice rough with disbelief.
“Come on! I never should have come here, I’m a third wheel cramping your ability to be alone and…oh, I kissed your girlfriend.”
“Ollie, we kidnapped you because we wanted you to be here. Both of us.”
“Because she felt sorry for me! Now I’m here crowding your space and…”
Frustration gets the better of me, and I step in closer, covering her mouth with my hand.
“Ollie, you can’t take up space if we specifically reserve it for you.”
Her breath huffs hot against my palm, her dark eyes searching mine. I can see the war in them, fear of ruining everything, fear of not trying, fear of wanting too much, being too much, and not being enough. I know that look because I’ve worn it for years.
“You’re not leaving,” I say, my voice firm. “Kat kissed you because she wanted to, and you didn’t push her away because you want her, too. I just need you to promise me that this isn’t going to fuck anything up between us.”
Her brows furrow, and her voice is muffled against my palm. I drop my hand, but I don’t step back.
“You want me to promise you?” Ollie says, staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Vince, I kissed YOUR girlfriend!”
“And I forgive you,” I practically yell, trying desperately to get through to her.
“Well, I don’t forgive myself!” Her hands fly out to the sides with what appears to be an equal level of frustration.
A laugh escapes my throat before I can stop it. “You’re so fucking annoying sometimes!”
Ollie shoves my chest, but I catch her wrists before she can pull away. Her pulse thrumming fast.
“Kat is in there waiting for you while you’re out here arguing with me about how much we want you here.”
Ollie’s jaw tenses, and her eyes flash with something I can’t quite read.
“Jesus, you’re really not mad?” she says, clarity finally hitting her.
“Nope,” I say, gentler this time. “I promise. I’m honestly more confused than anything?”
“Confused?” She repeats, and as if I’m watching it happen in slow motion, I can see her, the real her, bubble right back up to the surface. “Oh my god! You liked it? You pervert!”
Ollie’s face twists in mock disgust, but her eyes are bright with something dangerously close to excitement.
“You’re such a bitch,” I say, shaking my head.
“Watch your tone with me, I’ll kiss your mom next,” Ollie threatens, her smirk returning as she pulls her wrists from my grip. “You could use the authority of an evil stepmother in your life.”
“You’re literally the worst,” I say, but I’m grinning like an idiot.
The tension between us seems to have melted into nonexistence, and I can breathe again.
“Just…be gentle with her and remind her how much she loves me when you're done blowing her mind.”
The color drains from her face as I turn and descend the steps to the driveway.
“What? Hang on! I thought you were joking!” she calls out.
“Give her what she wants,” I say simply. “I’ll be about half an hour. I’m sure that smartass mouth of yours will think of something.”
I don’t turn around. I don’t look back. I get in my car and drive off, leaving the cabin and the two women I love more than anything in the world, alone.
Together.