Chapter 38
Chapter thirty-eight
Between Races, Denver
He stripped his button up shirt off and tossed it over the couch. It was Spring and Pilot was thankful for the warmer weather, but that also meant his guys weren’t home yet. They’d be trying to get extra time in at the track where they practiced.
Tate’s coach, Joey, and Bryce’s coach Reuben, would be in town to work with them the following day, but that didn’t mean they’d slack off at all.
The guys only had a few days in between races to get practice time in, and Pilot just had to get used to both Tate and Bryce and their determination.
He admired it, even if he missed them when they were gone to the track without him.
He flipped the light on in the kitchen and opened the fridge.
It was empty. They’d have to do take out again and he knew the guys hated that.
It was hard to find food that met their requirements.
Everything had to be ordered with the sauce on the side, and heaven help them all if the place got the order wrong.
It was never just as simply as take out order or pizza.
Hell, living with two supreme athletes had put Pilot on the same diet, and he’d kill a bitch for a slice of pizza or a greasy burger.
He grabbed a bottle of water and shut the fridge.
They really needed to break down and get some groceries.
Before he could think much more about it, the front door flew open, accompanied by raucous laughter and the sound of equipment hitting the floor. Pilot circled back to the front room. “Hey, guys.”
“Pilot, hey!” Tate pulled off his boots, dropping them right next to a pile of shin guards and helmets and gloves.
“This isn’t an equipment room.” Pilot could feel the frustration boiling over. “You’re gonna kill someone if you leave that shit there.”
Tate had the decency to look down at it, but it was Bryce that started picking it up.
“Put it in the garage or just leave it in the truck.”
Bryce nudged the door open. “I’ll just put it in the truck. We’ve got an early start tomorrow anyway.” He carried a load out the door.
“Damn,” Tate said crossing his arms and kicking off his other boot. “Did ya have a bad day?”
“No, not really. But, I’m tired and this is just...”
“Sorry. You don’t have to yell at us though. We aren’t children.”
Pilot waved his water bottle at the remaining equipment on the floor. “You act like it, though.”
“Seriously, what’s bothering you? Really.” Tate raised an eyebrow at him.
“Fuck. This just isn’t how I imagined things would be.”
“What’d you think. We’d be fucking all the time? Running around half naked, playing grab ass.”
“No, but—”
“We may have unconventional jobs, but we still have a life. We still have to work. Shit, it’s fun, but it’s still work. We get paid to be in top condition, not to be Pilot’s personal harem.”
“I know. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that we need some rules around here.”
“Rules?”
Bryce came back in and glanced between them quickly, before grabbing the rest of the gear and heading back outside.
“You just let him do all that work, Tate.”
“I didn’t tell him to do it. You did.” For a second Tate stared him down, the brave fucker. “I don’t know why you think we need rules. I thought things were fine. What the hell kinda rules do you want, Pilot?”
“I don’t know. Just. This all feels out of control. You need to eat right, but there’s no food in the house. When we do eat, someone needs to clean up and not leave the dishes. Hell, Tate, you leave your shit everywhere.”
“Oh. So you want a chore list?”
Bryce walked in and shoved the door shut. “I don’t mind a chore list.”
Tate stepped forward to give Bryce room to take off his boots. “Why don’t we just make the youngest do everything then.”
“What?” Pilot asked at the same time Bryce said, “That’s bullshit.”
Pilot was glad he was sticking up for himself a little.
Bryce had been the odd factor in all of this and the kid was sweet, but it changed everything.
“Look. We’re not making anyone do anything, but with three adults in the house now, we’re gonna be stepping on each other and shit.
We just need to make things go smoother. That’s all I’m saying.”
“You want me to leave?” Bryce dropped one boot to the floor, his other foot stalled in the air, boot still on.
“No. No way. That’s not what I’m saying. Come on, guys.”
A smarmy grin crossed Tate’s face. “You think we’re ganging up on you. Don’t you? Are you feelin’ left out, boss?”
“No. Seriously, Tate. I’m just aggravated at how things have been going.”
Bryce’s second boot finally dropped. “How things have been going how? With our schedules? Cleaning the house? In the bedroom?”
Pilot groaned. “Not in the bedroom. This isn’t about sex.”
“Then, what’s it about?” Bryce leaned up against Tate.
He was almost as tall and just as thin. What had Pilot done to end up with not one, but two sassy-mouthed riders?
His life would never be the same, but he didn’t care.
He was willing to compromise, but most of the concessions had been his deferral to their needs for their careers.
He was okay with that, but he still needed order in the house.
“Okay, just listen. I’m not talking about writing up a bunch of do’s and don’ts or making a chore list. I just think we need some guidelines. For all of us. Because I need things to go smoother, but it should benefit you two, too...”
“How so?” Tate asked.
“Well, for starters...we never bothered to pick up groceries, so...”
“Ugh,” Bryce groaned. “Take out again.” He shoved past Tate and Pilot, and started rooting around the papers on the breakfast bar. “I’m starving. Where’s the menus?”
Pilot pointed at him. “That’s another thing. If we were more organized, we’d know where they are and we’d know what we wanted from where and could place an order quickly.”
“Fine,” Tate grumbled. “We can get organized and have guidelines, but I think Bryce and I need to gang up on you a few times a week. Put that in your guidelines.”
“What?” Pilot didn’t have a clue what he meant, but obviously Bryce did.
“Yeah! Gang up on Pilot day. Starts now.” He abandoned his search for the menu and lunged at Pilot, grabbing him around the waist. Simultaneously, Tate jumped at him, grabbing his shoulders.
They really meant gang up on him. “Fine, Fine. But, it also means, we get tickle Bryce day.” He leaned forward and started tickling Bryce under the arms. Tate was slumped over Pilot’s shoulders, and hanging on for life as they all started bucking around.
Bryce squealed and Tate laughed and they all fell over the arm of the couch. “Not so easy ganging up on me is it?”
“No, but it’s fun,” Tate breathed out.
Bryce caught his breath and leaned forward. Pilot’s leg was wrapped around his hip. “Pilot?” he asked with a new seriousness in his deep, blue eyes. “What about everything else? The important stuff?”
Tate shoved Pilot’s head off his lap. “What do you mean?”
“Well. Not this running the house bullshit. Not the sex, I know that’s awesome. I mean...you know. The relationship stuff. The feelings. I know how I feel about y’all, but...”
“Do you think we don’t like you?” Tate asked.
“Do you still want me here?” Bryce countered.
Pilot bit his lip. Things weren’t how he’d thought, but he’d grown attached to Bryce despite everything.
He sometimes felt jealous of the way they had a connection that he didn’t seem to share, at least his connection with Bryce wasn’t as strong as Tate’s was with Bryce.
Yet, he didn’t want to go back to living without him either. “I want you here. I want both of you.”
Bryce rewarded him with a shy smile and Tate beamed with happiness. Then, he tackled Bryce. Despite a few tummies rumbling, they seemed to be more interested in playing around. The wrestling turned serious and quickly morphed to kissing and taking clothes off.
Pilot grabbed one hand from each of them and tugged them into the bedroom where they’d be more comfortable. He was never more pleased that he had a huge California King sized bed, perfect for skin on skin on skin contact.