Chapter 4
Milo
The wrench slipped in my sweaty hand, clanging against the metal frame of my Honda. I cursed under my breath, wiping my palm against my jeans before trying again. The barndominium was sweltering today, the overhead fans pushing around hot air like a convection oven set to slow-cook us.
Xavier sprawled on the couch across the room, his attention completely absorbed in his phone, thumbs scrolling with an intensity I’d never seen him apply to anything except his bike. He’d been like this for days now—distracted, secretive, weirdly jumpy whenever I asked what he was doing.
I knew he was reading, and that he didn’t like to talk about his books.
He had this weird idea that they made him a dork, probably from something his asshole of a dad had said.
But he’d been my best friend since the third grade, so I had no idea why he thought I’d suddenly decide to ditch him if I caught him reading a book.
“Dude,” I called out, adjusting the carburetor screw a quarter-turn. “You said you’d help!”
Xavier grunted something unintelligible, not even bothering to look up. Whatever was on that screen had him in a trance.
“You know what? Fine. Be useless.” I wiped sweat from my forehead with the back of my arm. “But I’m putting on some background noise if you’re not gonna talk to me.”
No response. Just the soft tapping of his thumbs against the screen and the occasional subtle shift of his body on the couch.
I narrowed my eyes, studying him from across the room.
His jaw was set in that way it got when he was intensely focused, but there was something else too—a tension in his shoulders, a deliberate stillness in his lower body. Almost like...
No way. Was he hiding a hard-on? While reading his phone?
I shook my head, turning back to my bike. Whatever X was into these days wasn’t my business. I’d squashed my crush on him years ago. We were like brothers. Strictly friends, nothing more. Sure, that sounded like lies, but lies were all I had.
I reached for my phone, scrolling through my podcast subscriptions until I landed on The Aimee Position, one of my favorites. The host’s voice was sexy and breathy, and her advice was the perfect combination of intelligent, humorous, and just dirty enough to make me smile.
I tapped play on the latest episode and set my phone on the tool cart, the volume just loud enough to fill the space between Xavier’s silence and the metallic sounds of my work.
“Welcome back to The Aimee Position, where we talk about all the positions—missionary, doggy, and emotionally unavailable. I’m your host, Aimee, and today we’re diving deep into a fantasy that tops many of your lists, according to our listener survey: the elusive, complicated, potentially amazing threesome. ”
I snuck a glance at Xavier. His scrolling had paused, his eyes still fixed on his screen, but his head tilted slightly toward the podcast. Interesting.
“So let’s start with the big question,” Aimee’s warm, slightly husky voice continued.
“Are threesomes better in fantasy or reality? I’ve got Dr. Samantha Wells, sex therapist and author of ‘Beyond the Binary Bed,’ joining us to discuss the psychology, logistics, and potential pitfalls of turning this common fantasy into reality. ”
I turned back to my bike, hands working almost automatically as I listened.
I was still working on my bike but my attention was increasingly on the podcast. And on Xavier, who’d stopped pretending he wasn’t listening. His phone was now face-down on his chest, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, a slight furrow between his brows.
I couldn’t help myself. “Have you ever had a threesome?”
Xavier’s head turned slowly toward me, his expression unreadable.
He stared at me for a beat too long, something flickering in his eyes that I couldn’t interpret, before shaking his head.
“No.” He frowned, looking momentarily confused, as if the question had caught him off guard.
Then his brow furrowed deeper. “Why the fuck would you ask me that?”
I gestured toward my phone. “Just curious. The podcast made me wonder.”
He snorted. “Why? You planning one?”
“Not actively,” I said, turning back to my bike to hide the heat creeping up my neck. “But I can see the appeal. A woman between me and another guy. And maybe he’d let me play with him, too.” That was the real fantasy.
“I’d rather two women,” Xavier repeated, his voice oddly flat.
He was quiet for a moment, just long enough for me to wonder if I’d crossed some invisible line.
Then he sat up abruptly, tucking his phone into his pocket with a sharp movement.
“We need to stop hanging out at that fucking bookstore and find some actual women to fuck.”
The sudden vehemence in his voice made me blink. “What brought that on?”
“Nothing,” he snapped. “Just tired of filming TikToks with zero payoff. It’s fucking pathetic.”
I put down my wrench, genuinely confused by this sudden shift. “Dude, we’ve gotten so many views.” Far more views than I’d told him, because he wasn’t interested in hearing about it.
“Great,” Xavier said, voice dripping sarcasm. “A few hundred people watched me sit on my bike doing nothing while some chick ignored us and bought a book. Really living the dream.”
In the background, Aimee’s voice continued, talking about the dynamics of different threesome arrangements—two men and one woman versus two women and one man, or any other configuration.
“They didn’t ignore us. That blonde from last week gave me her number. And the redhead. What did she call herself? A ‘romance novelist doing research.’ Whatever that means. You’re the one who keeps insisting we need to leave before I can close the deal.”
Xavier’s expression shifted, something like discomfort crossing his face before it settled back into his usual mask of indifference. “Whatever.”
“What was that?” I stepped closer, intrigued by the crack in his typically impenetrable facade.
“What was what?” He scowled.
“That look. Just now.”
Xavier shrugged, his gaze sliding away from mine. “There wasn’t a look. Just thinking it’s stupid to keep going back there.”
“Oh, we’re getting somewhere.” I grinned, thinking of the blonde’s number in my phone. “I could call the redhead right now. I bet she has a friend, another romance author who needs biker dick for research.”
Xavier muttered something so low I almost missed it.
“What was that?” I asked, leaning closer.
“I said,” he enunciated with exaggerated clarity, “the right book babe hasn’t talked to us yet. I don’t give a shit about the redhead or the blonde.”
I stared at him, processing this unexpected statement. “The right—wait, do you have a bookish crush?” A grin spread across my face. “Holy shit. I wondered why you kept agreeing to going back! Kept bitching that you hated it, but really you were crushing hard.”
“Fuck off,” he growled, but the color rising on his neck told me I’d hit something true.
“I don’t have a crush on anyone. I’m just saying if we’re going to keep up this stupid TikTok thing, we might as well target someone worthwhile, not just any random chick who happens to buy dirty threesome books. ”
My attention snagged on his phrasing. “That’s kind of specific.”
Xavier’s expression froze for a fraction of a second, almost imperceptible if I hadn’t known him for years. “Whatever. You know what I mean.”
I didn’t know what he meant, but before I could push further, Aimee’s voice cut through the tension between us.
“We’re taking calls now on The Aimee Position,” she announced. “If you’ve had a threesome experience, good or bad, or if you have questions about making your fantasy a reality, give us a call!”
An idea hit me with the force of a perfectly timed downshift. I grabbed my phone, hitting the call button displayed on the podcast app before I could think better of it.
“What are you doing?” Xavier asked, watching me with suspicious eyes.
“Getting expert advice,” I said, switching the call to speaker. My heart pounded as the ringtone sounded, once, twice, three times.
“You’re on The Aimee Position with Aimee and Dr. Wells. What’s your threesome question?”
I grinned at Xavier, who was now sitting up straight, his eyes widening as he realized what I was doing. He mouthed “what the fuck” at me, but I was already talking.
“Hi Aimee, big fan. This is Milo from Colorado.”
“Hey Milo. You may not know this but I’m in Denver. Love a guest from my home state! What’s your question?”
“So my best friend and I have been hanging out at this bookstore that specializes in romance novels, making content for social media. He’s developed a little crush on a girl who’s into books about threesomes with two guys. Do you think she wants that in real life?”
“Well, hello, Milo from Colorado,” Aimee said finally, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Let’s back up here. Are you interested in a threesome with her?”
Xavier looked like he was thinking about the best way to murder me.
“Maybe. But it’s awkward to just walk up and ask, right? Like she’ll probably think we’re creeps.”
“You and your friend are hanging around a romance bookstore, and you’re wondering how to proposition one of the customers for a threesome? Do I have that right?”
Put that way, it sounded way worse than I’d intended. “No! I mean, not exactly. We’re not, like, actively trying to do that. He’s just crushing hard on this girl—”
“Milo,” Xavier hissed.
“—And if she only reads threesome books, does that mean she only likes threesomes? Because, like, I’m perfectly happy to take one for the team to help him find true love. But I have no idea how to ask her without sounding like a creep.”
“That’s a great question, Milo,” Dr. Wells chimed in. “And it touches on power dynamics that are important to understand. Two men approaching one woman can create an imbalance that might feel intimidating, regardless of your intentions.”