34 FRancesca
I wake up feeling… alive.
Maybe it’s because I finally committed to staying here, to letting my old life go completely. Maybe it’s the perfect weather, sunlight pouring through the window.
Or maybe it’s the mind-blowing orgasm I had last night.
Heat rushes to my face at the thought, and I press it briefly into the pillow. I’ve never had an orgasm like that before. Then again, I’ve never had one with another person, which probably explains the difference.
I was so blissed out I practically passed out right after, not even conscious enough to try and return the favor.
Well… maybe I can fix that later, I think, grinning.
It’s strange, really. After spending the last three years in a strip club- surrounded by bodies and fantasy and sex for sale-I never once wanted anyone.
I used to have all sorts of teenage fantasies about Christian and Jamie and Ryan. Wondering what it would feel like if one of them kissed me. What it would be like to be held by them. How it would feel for one of them to take me to bed…
But once I left, it was like something in me just shut off.
I roll onto my side, looking at Ryan, still asleep next to me.
He’s just… beautiful.
Not just in the obvious way- though that’s there. The easy smile, bright blue eyes, blonde curls from his slightly-too-long hair falling into his face. He looks like something out of a Disney movie.
But it’s more than that.
It’s him.
The way I feel around him, the way he makes me feel like the most important person on Earth.
As I look at him, a small knot forms in my stomach. Because I don’t just feel that way about Ryan.
Even now, lying here beside him, I’m thinking about the other two.
Ryan shifts beside me, and I shove those thoughts down before they can take hold.
I’m not ready to figure that out yet.
I slip carefully out of bed and head into the kitchen. We stocked it the other day, and suddenly I’m craving French toast.
There were a lot of things I hated about living in that motel, but not being able to really cook- living off microwaved meals and whatever I could grab- was near the top of the list.
It’s Saturday. I don’t think anyone has to work, so I decide to make enough for all of us.
Music hums softly from my phone as I cook. I sway a little while the bacon finishes, setting the table, feeling… light. Normal. Happy.
Arms wrap around me from behind and lift me clear off the floor.
“Good morning, baby,” Ryan says, ignoring my squeal of surprise and laughter.
He sets me down and surveys the table. “Are we feeding the whole neighborhood?”
I grin, slipping out of his hands. “No. Just the guys. I’m gonna go get them. Plate the bacon?”
He nods, already reaching for a plate, and I head next door.
I knock once, but no one answers. I know they are home, so I try the knob, surprised when it opens easily.
“Morning!” I call as I step inside.
The living room is empty. The kitchen too.
“Good morning, sleepyheads,” I sing as I head down the hallway- and then I stop.
Jamie’s bedroom door is open and my brain can’t comprehend the sight.
Jamie and Christian are in the bed, shirtless, the sheets tangled around them, their legs loosely intertwined.
For a second my brain can’t quite process what I’m seeing.
Jamie looks like he’s been struck by lightning, eyes wide and body rigid, while Christian is leaning over him slightly, his breath visibly caught halfway between inhale and panic, his hand reaching for his glasses on the nightstand.
No one moves.
“What- ” My voice comes out thin, unsteady. “What’s going on?”
The silence stretches- it feels almost electric- and then the realization hits all at once.
“Oh- shit. I’m sorry,” I rush out, words tangling together. “I should have knocked. I mean, I did knock, but I shouldn’t have just come in. I- I’m sorry. I’ll just- I’m gonna- ”
I back up too fast, half-walking, half-stumbling, turning on my heel and retreating through the house like it’s on fire.
“Frankie- wait,” Christian calls, right as I hear Jamie curse.
I don’t stop.
The look on their faces- shock, fear, panic- burns behind my eyes.
God. I invaded their world.
I feel sick. Completely, overwhelmingly sick at exposing them like that.
And then something else hits, heavier and quieter, settling in beneath the panic.
Heartbreak.
It steals the air from my lungs.
But it’s followed by shame. The sudden, brutal awareness of my own arrogance.
Because who did I think I was?
I knew I couldn’t have all of them. I knew that. I’d told myself that over and over again.
And still… I never let them go. Some part of me held onto all of them like I had some kind of claim on them. Like they were mine, even when I knew they couldn’t be.
And the worst part?
Seeing them with anyone else- even each other- feels like a betrayal.
It’s selfish. Unrealistic. Immature.
I press a hand to my chest as I rush through my front door, my heart pounding hard enough to hurt.
Ryan looks up instantly, reading my face in half a second. “What the fuck- ”
The words barely leave his mouth before the door bursts open again.
Christian comes in first, shirtless, chest rising with breath he hasn’t quite caught yet, looking strangely unfamiliar without his glasses. Jamie is right behind him, still tugging his pants into place, jaw tight, his eyes locked on me like he’s bracing for impact.
They stop just inside the doorway, and Ryan’s gaze moves between the three of us, confusion sharpening fast into suspicion. “What? What the fuck is going on?”
Something fierce and protective rises up in me. I don’t even have to think about it- I just know.
I will not out them. I will not drag something private into the light without their consent.
“Nothing,” I blurt. “I just- I got scared. There was a spider.”
Silence.
“Frankie- ” Jamie starts.
I cut him off, talking too fast. “It just surprised me. I freaked out. I’m sorry. All good. All good now.” I plaster on an aggressively unconvincing smile and add an awkward thumbs-up for emphasis.
We stand there for a second, no one moving, no one quite breathing.
Then Christian cracks.
His shoulders loosen and a smile breaks across his face. “I appreciate the effort, Francesca,” he says gently, “but there’s no need to lie for us.”
Ryan looks at him. “Lie for you?”
Jamie turns to Christian, and Christian meets his eyes, lifting his eyebrows just a fraction.
An entire conversation passes between them without a word.
I can’t believe how blind I’ve been to how deeply connected they are, how instinctive, how sure.
I don’t know how I never saw it before, and that same sharp flash of na?veté and arrogance burns through me again.
Jamie exhales, scrubbing a hand over his face before giving a small, resigned shrug.
Christian straightens, squaring his shoulders, while Jamie doesn’t look away from him, not once.
“So,” Christian says carefully, glancing briefly at Jamie, who gives a barely-there nod, “Jamie and I are… um…”
He exhales.
“We’re together.”
The words land softly and still manage to knock the air out of the room.