Chapter 40
forty
Liam
The Next Day
I should feel guilt.
Some jagged edge of shame, cutting through the debauchery of what we did.
Or, maybe regret. Cold, rehabilitating remorse creeping in after the high of my orgasm fades, reminding me.
Bliss is a trap.
Except, there’s nothing of the sort here.
Only warmth. Acceptance. Peace.
Avonna’s curled against me, one leg intertwined with mine. One of her stiff little nipples brushes my ribs. Linus cradles her from the other side, his free hand resting on my thigh.
I can smell her, me, him clinging to our skin, the sheets, and the memories we’ve made. Radiant. Fucked-out. Glowing.
My body’s wrecked. Ass sore from being taken by the only man who’s ever made me feel whole. I’m still overstimulated, not from friction or need, but from something deeper. Wanting to do it all again. Never wanting to leave this bed.
This moment.
What’s crushing my chest isn’t the desire for more sex.
It’s the truth settling into my skin.
They planned this.
Not in some manipulative way. Not with games or pressure.
With care. Time. Patience.
Avonna makes a sound, a soft exhale like the final note of a song. Linus murmurs something and kisses her temple. She smiles without opening her eyes.
They’re both so at ease. But me?
My head is spinning.
They’re fucking married?
I think back to those nights back in college when Linus and I lamented about how much we wanted this but didn’t believe any woman would consent to share and be shared for the long haul.
Which has proven to be true, in my experience. My first threesome with the married couple might have been life-changing, but in the end, it was merely sex. Nothing long-term. A weekend kink. A vice I’ve chased over and over throughout the years to find some level of sexual fulfilment.
Avonna, Linus, and me are something else entirely.
Linus is my soulmate. He saw through every mask I wore from the start, calming something in me I didn’t know needed soothing with quiet, steady love. When he left, it shattered me. I ghosted him not because I stopped loving him, but because I loved him too much.
Now, I realize he never stopped believing we’d find our way back. He knew we’d find her too. He arranged for me to get to know her over the summer and I’ve fallen just as hard for her.
She’s a voice I can’t stop listening to. A body I crave like oxygen. A fellow songwriter who’s crept into every part of my brain, one verse at a time until we became friends and grew close.
She told me about her past, how she escaped the puritan religious sect and, through therapy, was able to love and accept herself. Embrace her sexuality without shame.
A concept so foreign to me, I confessed things to her not even Linus is aware of.
How even now, despite my da’s attempts to make amends, I hear his voice condemning me when I fuck a man.
How I flinch when someone touches me like I’m more than a body.
How I keep trying to fuck away my depravity and still wake up thinking I’ve crossed some invisible line careening me into self-hating hell.
Even when it feels like love. Especially then.
Love.
Fuck me. Here he is. Here she is. It’s madness. Impossible.
Lying between them, I realize none of the shameful voices are swirling in my head. All this time apart was one long breath he held, waiting to exhale back into me. Avonna’s heart and soul fit me like memory, as if we’ve known each other in a previous life.
The three of us together are a dream I never let myself believe in.
I want this. I want them.
God help me, I do.
Sensing I’m getting too far into my head, Linus threads his fingers through mine. “Shower?”
“Please.” Avonna sounds wrecked. Sore. Sated.
Linus lifts her. I slip my arm under her shoulders, steadying her weight. She leans into both of us, arms draped around our necks. We move to the bathroom in sync, the way bodies do when they know each other. He sets her down as I turn on the jets
Linus steps in first, guiding her under the spray. I follow.
Avonna rests her back against his chest, Linus wraps his arms around her middle. My hand finds her shoulder. I lather up a washcloth with body gel and we begin to tend to her. She tilts her face up, eyes closed, letting the water run over her hair.
Linus works shampoo into her scalp, massaging in small circles as I soap her arms, torso, legs. There’s nothing rushed in the way we touch her. No hunger. Just attention. She sways between us, breath evening out, shoulders dropping as the tension leaves her body.
“You both make me feel safe.” She smiles up at us.
Something in my chest loosens.
Linus kisses her shoulder. I rinse her hair, shielding her eyes with my palm. She leans forward, resting her forehead briefly against my chest. I sense how tired she is. Spent.
It’s been an emotional evening for all of us.
When the water shuts off, we wrap her in towels and guide her back to the bedroom. She settles between us on the bed, all of us still damp. Linus sits behind her, arms around her waist. She takes my hand, thumb tracing slow lines across my knuckles.
“We don’t want you to run.” She peers into my soul. Not asking.
Stating.
Linus reaches for my other hand. “Please let this settle in. We have a lot to catch up on.”
I swallow past the thickness in my throat.
“We want you here,” she adds. The words surprise me with how steady they sound. “This isn’t only about sex.”
She squeezes my fingers. I don’t pull away, though my primal instinct to flee is kicking into high gear.
“You don’t have to decide anything tonight.” Linus pulls me toward him. “We’re not askin’ you to promise us forever—”
“We’re asking you to stay for a while and give things a chance,” she finishes.
The room grows quiet. I’m not sure how to feel. What to say.
Linus tugs me next to him and Avonna curls into the small space between us. He rests his hand over both of ours. I feel the grounding weight of them and think about how long I’ve been running from moments like this.
How I’ve convinced myself closeness always came with a cost.
For the first time since Linus left, I feel complete.
I don’t know what comes next. I don’t know if I’ll be brave enough every day to believe they want me with them.
Tonight, lying warm and held and wanted, I let myself believe I could try.
For now, that’s enough.