Chapter 4
Aimee
All week, notes appeared under my door at random times of the day.
They were little paper messages that I really didn’t want to find charming.
Each one featured ridiculous cartoon firefighters with bulging muscles and earnest smiles, offering to fix this or carry that or run some errand I’d mentioned needing to do.
Today’s note was no different, slipped under my door sometime during my morning shower: a sketch of two buff cartoon figures hauling comically oversized packages to a mailbox, offering to do a post office run.
I stared at the note, coffee mug halfway to my lips. How did they know I needed to mail packages? I hadn’t mentioned it to them. Sure, I’d talked about it on Tuesday’s podcast episode, but that hadn’t even been published until—
My stomach dropped. Were they listening to my podcast?
The podcast where I’d spent the last three episodes discussing my frustrating dry spell?
The podcast where, just last week, I’d answered a listener question about firefighter fantasies and may have used my neighbors as extremely detailed examples?
Oh god. I set my coffee down with a thud, sloshing hot liquid over my fingers. They were listening to my podcast?
I marched across the hall in my fuzzy slippers, note clutched in my hand, and rapped my knuckles against their door with more force than necessary.
The response was immediate—like someone had been standing right there waiting.
The door swung open to reveal Rhett, his hair still damp from a shower, a flush creeping up his neck.
“Hey, Aimee! What’s up?” Rhett looked down at the note in my hand and clapped, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Did you need us for something? We’re ready to help. In a very non-intrusive way, of course.”
A throat cleared behind Rhett, and he stepped back, revealing Troy leaning against their kitchen counter, sipping from a protein shake. He gave me a little two-finger salute, his dark eyes tracking my movements as I stepped inside.
“Are you guys stalking me via my podcast?” I asked bluntly.
Troy choked mid-sip, coughing as he set down his shake. Then he stepped forward and whacked Rhett upside the head.
“Ow! What the fuck?” Rhett yelped, rubbing the spot.
“You said she wouldn’t figure it out!” Troy accused.
“We’re not stalking,” Rhett protested, turning those puppy dog eyes on me. “We’re fans!”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Fans.”
“Enthusiastic listeners,” Troy amended, moving closer. “It’s the new favorite at the firehouse. There’s a whole bunch of guys betting on whether you’re as hot as you sound.”
Heat flooded my face. “Excuse me?”
“Not in a gross way,” Rhett hurried to add. “Your voice is really… it’s nice.”
“Nice?”
“There’s a pool going at the firehouse about whether or not you’re as hot as you sound,” Troy said. “Which we didn’t participate in.”
“I have photos and video on all my social media. It’s not hard to find out what I look like.”
Rhett paled. “We don’t need anyone else knowing how gorgeous you are.”
The words hung in the air between us, his earnestness catching me off guard. This wasn’t the snarky Rhett I was used to—this was something else, something that made my stomach flip in a way I wasn’t prepared to analyze.
“That came out wrong,” he backpedaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I meant—”
“What he meant,” Troy cut in smoothly, “is that we’d prefer not to have a whole firehouse of guys salivating over our best friend’s little sister.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Troy’s casual confidence was as disarming as Rhett’s awkward sincerity. These two idiots were going to be the death of me.
“So,” I said slowly, trying to regain control of the conversation, “what exactly have you heard on the podcast?”
Troy’s lips curved into a dangerous smile. “You mean besides your extremely detailed description of your dry spell? Or the part where you told your listeners that your hot firefighter neighbors even look sexy sweaty and exhausted?”
Oh fuck. I had said that.
“Or maybe,” Rhett added, his eyes sparkling with mischief now, “you mean the episode where you answered that listener question about threesomes and mentioned that you’d never had one?”
Troy smirked. “And she said the idea of being between two strong men who knew exactly what they were doing sounded—how did she put it? ‘Mind-bendingly hot’?”
Double fuck.
“I was speaking hypothetically,” I managed, though my voice came out higher than intended. “As a sex educator, I discuss all sorts of scenarios.”
“Of course,” Troy nodded, mock-serious. “Very educational.”
“And the part where you said your neighbor’s ass looks like it was carved by Michelangelo?” Rhett asked innocently. “Was that educational too?”
Triple fuck.
“That was a metaphor,” I lied. It wasn’t. I’d spent a solid three minutes waxing poetic about Rhett’s ass on that episode.
“Metaphorical or not,” Troy said, “Rhett’s been insufferable since he heard it. Keeps asking me if his jeans make his ass look good.”
“They do, though,” Rhett said with a grin. “Michelangelo good, right, Aimee?”
I pressed my palms to my burning cheeks. “You guys are the worst. Besides, what if I was talking about Troy’s ass?”
“Nah, his is thicker than mine, so surely you would have mentioned the luscious bubble butt.”
Troy blinked. “Luscious?”
Rhett shrugged. “You are well aware that you’ve got sexy curves. But I’m curious which one of us has the, what was it? ‘Arms that could pin you to a wall and make you forget your own name’?”
That had been Troy. But I would rather die than admit it right now.
“My podcast persona is exaggerated for entertainment,” I said, trying to sound stern despite my mortification.
Troy raised an eyebrow. “Very entertaining.”
Something in his tone made my pulse skip. “Anyway, no need to worry. I’m going to stop talking about you on air.”
“But your listeners love the hot firefighter neighbor stories,” Rhett protested.
“Do they?”
“We read the comments too. They’re feral for us.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “How much of my show have you listened to?”
They exchanged a glance.
“All of it,” Troy admitted. “Every episode.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be flattered or horrified.
“Your voice helps us fall asleep,” Rhett offered, as if that made it better somehow.
“So you listen to me talk about sex, relationships, and intimate details of people’s lives… to fall asleep?” I asked.
“It’s soothing,” Troy said. “Though we also listen because you give great advice. You’re smart as hell, Aimee. And funny. And passionate about what you do.”
“Yeah,” Rhett agreed. “The sexy voice is a bonus.”
Despite everything, I felt a small, traitorous smile tugging at my lips. “You guys are ridiculous.”
“But you like us anyway. Though I think you might benefit from a threesome experience.” Rhett blinked as if it had just occurred to him that might not be an appropriate thing to say. “For the show, I mean. So you can talk more honestly about polyamory to your listeners.”
My mouth fell open. “Are you suggesting—”
“No! Of course not. I’m respecting your boundaries. I was speaking, you know, abstractly,” Rhett added, holding up his hands. “Sorry. I know firsthand it doesn’t always live up to the fantasy.”
Troy’s eyebrows shot up as he turned to Rhett. “Hold up. You’re giving threesome advice now?”
Rhett rolled his eyes, some of his nervousness fading as he slipped into their familiar banter. “Obviously I’ve had threesomes,” he said. “I mean, look at me. And I’m a firefighter. Panties drop when I walk into the room.”
I looked at my still-in-place panties. “Do they, though?”
He nodded, oblivious. “Yep. But I’ve only had the kind with two women. It was sexy as hell, but it was a lot of work.” He spread his hands wide. “I mean, there’s only one of me to go around! Why, haven’t you done it, Troy?”
I stared at them, unable to believe this conversation was happening in front of me. Rhett had had threesomes? Multiple ones? Mr. Puppy-Dog-Eyes-and-Cartoon-Notes?
Troy blinked, his confident facade cracking for the first time. “Never,” he admitted, looking sheepish.
“What?” Rhett gasped. “With your insane body? You could pick some girls up, easy.”
“Never wanted to with two girls,” Troy said with a shrug. “Now… another girl and a guy, that I’d consider.”
Rhett nodded sagely. “Much less work than having to please two women. Spit-roasting an eager girl would be hot.”
“Yeah, or sucking the other guy while I fuck her,” Troy agreed.
Rhett’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry, what?”
Troy waved his hand. “You’ve never sucked cock?”
“Of course not!”
“Why not? Guys are so horny you can get them to agree to just about anything. It’s not gay or anything.”
“Pretty sure sucking cock is a little gay.” Rhett cleared his throat, eyes darting to Troy, then back to me. “But it’s not gay in a threesome. There’s a girl between us.”
“What if the girl wants to watch you kiss each other?” I asked, hoping to shock Rhett off the topic of threesomes for good.
“Sure,” Troy agreed, looking unbothered as he pushed off from the counter. “Kissing guys is fun, but I love women. No harm in providing a little entertainment to get a sexy woman wet for us.”
Wait, what?
“Why did you never mention that you like to suck cock?”
“Never came up.”
“Never came up? Your entire sexuality never came up?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t look at me like that. Bro, you have to admit that’s at least a little bit bi,” Rhett said, still looking confused.
“Whatever. I never needed a label before, but maybe I’m bi. Who cares?” Troy asked with a shrug. “Do you care, Aimee?”
“Doesn’t bother me one bit,” I said, grinning.
Rhett’s eyes widened and darted to me, that cheeky, flirtatious expression he usually wore returning. “Wait. Does that turn you on? The thought of watching us make out?”
“I didn’t say that…”
Rhett crossed his arms over his chest, flexing his muscles. “You can look at our bodies too. We don’t mind being objectified. That is not a boundary for us.”
“Definitely not,” Troy said, eyes dropping to Rhett’s flat stomach as he stepped a little bit closer. “Hell, next week we’re doing a kittens and firefighters calendar to objectify ourselves for a good cause.”
“And as our friend, your entertainment is also a good cause, Aimee.” Rhett seemed to have forgotten about his shock. He turned, moving so he was standing inches away from Troy, staring up at him with a curious look in his eyes.
It was then that I remembered that Rhett would do anything on a dare. “Guys—”
“You barged into our apartment and insisted. We can’t deny you.”
I blinked. “Did I insist, though? Really?”
They were ignoring me now, staring intensely into each other’s eyes. “You’re so chivalrous, Rhett. It’s very respectful to do exactly as the lady requests.” Troy closed the last little bit of space between them, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip like an invitation.
My heart hammered against my ribs as Troy’s large hand came up to cup the back of Rhett’s neck, his thumb brushing over the short hair there. Rhett looked a little nervous.
“I’ve never kissed a guy,” he whispered.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I have.” Troy tilted his head and leaned in.
Their lips met, and the world stopped.
It wasn’t the awkward, close-mouthed peck I’d expected.
Troy kissed Rhett like he meant it, his lips moving with confident pressure.
For a second, Rhett stood stiff, clearly surprised.
Then something broke open in him, and he melted against Troy with a soft whimper that shot straight between my legs.
Rhett’s arms came up, wrapping around Troy’s waist and sliding under his shirt, revealing a strip of dark skin above his jeans. Troy made a low sound in his throat, his hand tightening in Rhett’s hair as he deepened the kiss.
I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t breathe. Troy’s other hand slid down to grab Rhett’s ass, and Rhett moaned into his mouth. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen—Troy dominating the kiss, Rhett surrendering to it, both of them forgetting I was even there.
Troy backed Rhett against the kitchen island, pressing their bodies together as his tongue parted Rhett’s lips.
Rhett’s fingers splayed across Troy’s back, pulling up his shirt further to reveal the defined muscles underneath.
The two of them moved against each other with a hunger that couldn’t possibly be performative.
The wet sounds of their kiss filled the kitchen, punctuated by their increasingly ragged breathing.
Troy’s hand slid from Rhett’s neck down his chest, fingers grazing over a nipple, making Rhett gasp and arch against him.
They weren’t just kissing anymore—they were devouring each other, communicating something neither had been able to say in words.
Heat bloomed across my skin as I watched them. This wasn’t happening for my benefit anymore. They’d forgotten I was here, lost in exploring each other with an intensity that suggested this wasn’t the first time they’d thought about it.
I cleared my throat loudly, the sound shattering the moment like glass.
They jumped apart, breathing hard. Rhett’s lips were red and swollen, his cheeks flushed crimson. His hair stuck up where Troy’s fingers had been, and his eyes were dazed, pupils blown wide with desire.
“Yeah. So.” Rhett’s voice cracked. He swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at Troy or me. “Troy’s definitely bi. And it’s possible I’m bi, too.”
Then he turned and sprinted toward his bedroom, the door slamming behind him with finality.
Troy remained by the island, looking a little dazed, though there was a definite smugness playing at the corners of his mouth. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, as if savoring Rhett’s taste.
“Huh,” he said. “Interesting.”
“I have no idea why I came over here,” I said, blinking slowly.
Troy grinned. “Me either, but you can come over here and get Rhett to kiss me any time you like, sweet girl.”
“Yeah, I’d better go,” I yelped. I made it back to my apartment on autopilot, closed the door behind me, and leaned against it, my whole body thrumming.
My heart pounded in my ears as the image of them kissing played on repeat in my mind—the way Rhett had yielded, the way Troy had taken control, the obvious hunger between them.
Oh crap.