Chapter 10
Lucy
JennaBee08372 comments: I'm so proud of @WaywardDelaney for being so brave. Not a lot of people would have the courage to be this honest. Good for her. And fuck Lucy for making her feel so shitty
AlwaysLateKate comments: @ZenInTheCity is a toxic troll, you don't need her @WaywardDelaney !
ghhrrrlno comments: @ZenInTheCity you should consider drowning yrslf. No, srsly. Ur content is garbage and ur a waste of space
B00nary69 comments: dingdong the bitch is… missing? Come on @WaywardDelaney, give us more!
Mateo's called twelve times since last night. Ten before I finally texted him back, telling him I was fine I just needed a little space. He said okay but then called back an hour later and once more just five minutes ago.
I'm fine. Truly, I'm fine.
Shaking, tired, exhausted. A little bit terrified, a larger bit exhilarated, but overall, fine.
My brain feels like it's been pulled in seven different directions. Everything that happened last night tested my entire sense of self. It never occurred to me that being with more than one person was something I might be interested in. On top of that, it was the most intense sexual experience of my life, and it shattered and rebuilt me in ways I wasn't prepared for.
It was an incredible feeling to be the sole focus of Mateo, Noah, and Silas; being stripped, held down, and pleasured like that.
But after the intense pleasure subsided, after the silence and stillness settled in, I was just sitting alone in a room with two strangers and a man I thought I knew.
I thought I knew myself, too, but last night I realized I don't think I know myself at all. I don't know where to go from here. I don't know what happens next.
I thought I had this fantasy of being forced, hurt, held down. Now I'm aware of new desires and possibilities, other ideas are creeping in, and I'm honestly not sure what to think of any of it.
I'm tempted to open my social accounts and follow the same patterns I always do. Turn to social media, find the answers in commentary. Search something like #polyamory, #foursomes, #bdsm, #kinkysex, #brotherhusbands.
Maybe the me from a couple of weeks ago would have done that, if Mateo and I had found a way to explore our sexuality without the looming Delaney situation hanging over my head, sticking us in a pressure cooker. Unfortunately, I can't bring myself to go online because every time I do, some new bullshit pops up right in front of my face.
I can't help it. I press play again on her most recent video from this morning. Delaney smirks and flips her hair, then speaks directly to the camera. " Guys, I'm really worried. My best friend Lucy, ZenInTheCity, hasn't been posting, and no one's seen her. Lucy, babe, if you're listening, I'm so sorry. I wish I could take it back. It's just… " She hiccups, and debatably real tears stream down her face. " People just do not understand the pressure we're under. It's so hard maintaining at this level. And so I've decided to pivot my platform to focus on mental health. Because that's what's really important. You guys, keep Lucy in your thoughts. I'll be back soon with some interviews with some experts on the subject. Peace and love. Namaste. " Then she prayer-hands, and the recording ends.
Delaney orchestrated that hurtful shit for the sake of content, creating drama and up-heaving my life for followers. It was a choice she made, a conscious decision. Her announcement that her new platform will focus on mental health makes me angry. It shouldn't. I want to say good for her . Clearly, she needs help.
But she's out there, gaining followers, acting like a reality TV star, and people love it when the famous behave badly, and her whole stupid plan is working. Meanwhile, I'm hiding in my apartment, still reeling from last night, feeling like my brain is split. I can't bring myself to post, to comment, to do anything because whatever I say, it will all lead back to Delaney.
Since her last post, her followers are acting like I'm in the wrong, calling me names, claiming I act like I'm better than everyone, and that I'm at fault for her mistakes. They're supporting her mental health journey, calling her brave for her honesty.
If I comment on what she did, I'm furthering her narrative. If I ignore it, people will speculate and think I'm losing my shit. I didn't realize I was living in such a toxic bubble until I got a little space from it.
Forcing myself to get up and move, I dig out my running shoes, pausing briefly by the mirror.
I take in all my natural features, feeling like this is the first time I've seen myself in years. My face is no longer red from all the crying last week. Still no makeup, freckles out in the open, blue eyes no longer framed by pretty black lashes. Even my roots are growing in, the light brown peeking through the white blonde. Running my fingers through my hair, I snag on a couple of overgrown extensions.
I'm a fucking mess.
Slipping on sunglasses, I leave the apartment.
Running helps. Movement, feeling my muscles burn, the air pumping through my lungs, it helps break through the anxiety. I pass through Sunrise Park and slow to a stroll. The last time I came through here, I posted a bunch of videos. Spent half the day on my phone.
I don't have it with me today, though. So I enjoy the scenery. Smell the roses. I walk to the water's edge, following the bike path, and when I get to the other side of the park, I feel further from the Delaney problem but closer to the Mateo problem.
I don't want to admit it after breaking down the way I did, but I'm embarrassed how I behaved and handled everything last night. Mateo won't think I'm ready for whatever he's offering. But I am. I think. I'm so lost.
So, I keep running. Stopping at a market on the way home to pick up some veggies for dinner, I can't run home like I want to with a bag full of groceries, but I walk instead of taking a cab, hoping watching strangers on the streets might help keep my mind off my problems.
Just as I approach my building, I see a familiar face and freeze in place.
With a skateboard kicked up, leaning against his leg, he's smiling, looking around at the passersby until he spots me, and his grin widens. I can see the dimples from here. It's intense, his attention. This attraction that bloomed out of nowhere.
Falling for Mateo as hard as I did, I assumed my lust was reserved for the dominating boardroom type: crisp suit, perfect haircut, lean but cut frame, with a rigid gym schedule and a penchant for finer things.
But seeing Silas and his happy grin, baggy clothes, arms covered in black ink tattoos, I wonder if I have a thing for nerdy, artsy types, too. Wide lips make his smile feel genuine, dimples in his cheeks furthering their intent. Pretty honey brown eyes, warm brown skin, sinuous, taut, muscular arms. He's disarmingly charming, really handsome and the man knows how to use his mouth and fingers.
My cheeks blush as I walk towards him. The memory of his adept touch lingers, like I can feel it with every step. Maybe I should feel jealous or uncomfortable that he knew his way around the female anatomy so well, but all I feel is bashful that I got to experience it.
I'm so distracted by the memory that I don't have time to be embarrassed that I came in a gushing force, which I'd never done before, all over his face and shirt. Or that I ran out of the club, buried in Mateo's chest, hiding from everything they made me feel.
What surprises me is that I don't feel weird about being touched by three men at once, that it felt almost… normal.
"Hey," Silas smiles, leaning in to kiss my cheek like we're old friends.
First date jitters make my palms slick, and I adjust my groceries, glad I've got something to hold on to. Until he glances down and sees the heavy bag, stealing it from my hands.
"Oh, you don't have to do that," I say shyly.
But he holds it away from me, picking up his skateboard with his other hand. "I'm nothing if not a gentleman."
I can't help it, I snort. Then laugh out loud.
Silas leans back in mock offense, hand to his chest. "I'm a total gentleman. Ladies first and all that."
My cheeks burn again, his honey-brown eyes sparkling in delight at teasing me.
"What are you doing here?" I ask. I'm not mad he's here, but I wasn't expecting him. While last night may have felt normal albeit exciting along with a myriad of other emotions, only now is it occurring to me that their interest in sharing me might exist outside of the bedroom.
Holy shit. Why didn't I think of this before now? As if I don't have enough things making my mind go crazy.
Compounding my thoughts, Silas replies, "I thought we could hang out. I wanted to see if you were doing alright and Noah and I took a vote, making Mateo give you space."
"Because you and Noah have a lot of catching up to do?" I tilt my head, repeating what he said to Mateo last night.
Silas doesn't look ashamed. Instead, he grins, "Totally. But also, because he's got zero chill and was about two steps from coming over here and forcing you to talk to him. We agreed Noah or I had a better shot at acting like normal humans in front of you."
I can't help it, his honesty makes me laugh. "I guess I never thought of him like that. He isn't very chill, is he?"
"Nah. Not at all."
This is weird. It's weird, right? Is this a date? Am I dating my boyfriend's friend?
I need to ask Portia. But what if she thinks it's insane? I feel kind of insane because I'm… into it. I'm fucking into this.
"Come inside." I lead the way through the lobby as he follows me to the elevator.
"This place is mad swanky," Silas whistles.
"I know. Mateo's got champagne taste. But I'm not complaining. You should see the pool."
We make small talk on the way upstairs, and he's surprisingly easy to talk to. After letting us into the penthouse, Silas whistles again. "Damn. Mateo didn't hold back, huh? I'm surprised he hasn't asked you to marry him yet," he remarks, catching me off guard.
Seeing my expression, he adds, "The apartment." I have no idea what he's talking about. "You know Mateo bought this place for you, right?"
" What ?" I gasp.
Silas laughs loudly, setting the grocery bag on the kitchen counter, leaning his skateboard against the wall in the hallway by the front door.
"Told you. Bro's got no chill. Zero to a hundred, real quick."
"But… I just moved in two months ago. He… I thought… didn't he already have this place?"
"Nah, he lived with me and Noah. We were pissed at him actually, he didn't tell us he was moving out or that he met a girl." Silas looks around the apartment, noting how sparse it is. "His room looks like this, too. Barely anything on the walls. Our apartment is nice though, a lot more art on the walls. I'll bring you some."
I'm still dumbfounded, but Silas makes himself at home, setting his backpack on the ground, kicking off his shoes and climbing on the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. "How many rooms does this place have anyway?"
"Umm… two bedrooms. Plus, Mateo has an office."
Silas nods thoughtfully, then says more to himself then to me, "He doesn't need a home office. Three bedrooms sounds perfect. This place is sick."
I don't know what's happening, but I'm here for it. His energy is infectious, somehow bypassing all my anxious, nervous thoughts with his immediate familiarity. All my earlier reservations, worries, all fade into the background. Like we've been doing it a lifetime, I put the groceries away while Silas digs into his bag, pulling a game console out of his backpack, messing with the wires on the TV, plugging it in.
He really is a nerd. I love it.
After I finish putting everything away, I join him on the couch, just as he hands me a controller.
"Oh, I don't play. I don't know what I'm doing."
He has his own controller, waving me off. "Even better. I can see in real time how a novice plays."
I'm still skeptical but he turns on the game, while explaining the premise, describing what he's looking for.
"I can't believe you made this," I say in awe, after he tells me he and Noah built the game.
"Well, this one we've been working on for a year. Right now we're working out glitches, and it's easier to do on a gaming console than a computer. But it's a dream, being able to do this. When we dropped out of college, our families told us we'd fail. Not cause they wanted us to, mind you. They were just worried about us succeeding. It was one of the reasons Matty pushed his career so hard. He wanted to take care of us, so we'd have something to fall back on if we did fail."
"He's like that. Taking care of problems." I think about him buying this apartment for me, if Silas is to be believed. Snippets of conversation float to mind, remembering things we talked about, hanging out at my tiny rent controlled apartment, before we moved in together. I wanted to take up swimming again, but the closest public pool took two trains to get to, and the gym where I take spin class didn't have one. You'd think given how much CycleSorceress's classes cost, they would.
I thought it was strange that he didn't mention having a pool at home and hadn't invited me over to use his when we talked about it. Apparently that's because he didn't actually have a pool yet, because he didn't live here.
I feel like I need to reevaluate our whole relationship. Should I be mad at him for all these half-truths and white lies? I feel like I should be.
But I also know, especially listening to Silas talk about how Mateo worked so hard to not only support his family like he told me, but to also support his best friends so they could pursue their dreams. Even though it's controlling and definitely gives him the upper hand in his relationships, he never wields that control. He just wants to take care of people.
In a backhanded, manipulative way.
I shake my head, refocusing on the game. Silas laughs at how bad I am, my fingers slipping on the buttons, making the character jump when I'm supposed to run, or do fancy flips and fight moves when I'm supposed to duck.
"It's hard!" I yell, laughing as my character dies for the fiftieth time.
"Okay, I concede, you suck at this." He smiles, taking the controller out of my hands.
"Why don't you play, and I'll watch. Tell me what you're looking for."
"This feels like a trap."
"Why?" I snicker, playfully smacking his arm. We're sitting side by side, somehow getting closer without trying. His body feels hard and warm beside mine, making me feel like a teenager sitting next to her first crush. I feel every movement, every subtle brush against my arm, every time his knee knocks mine, wondering if it's intentional.
"I don't want to bore you, is all."
"Well, you said you're testing for graphic glitches, right? You play and I'll look at the bigger picture. I'll let you know if something looks funny. I'm sure if I didn't have a task, I'd be bored just watching you play. But this is good. I'm good," I reassure him.
"Alright." This time he adjusts in his seat, intentionally moving closer, so our legs are touching, the length of his thigh pressing against mine.
He restarts the game but I can't pull my eyes off his face. The warmth, the kindness, the ease at being around him. It's so… simple. It feels like we've done this a hundred times.
How is it possible I'd feel this strongly about him? I barely know him, and I've spent the last six months feeling this intensely about someone else. Is it possible to feel this way about more than one person?
I always pictured poly relationships like the ones on TV. Lots of drama, more shared housework and parenting, in-fighting, less of… this. Whatever this is.
I drag my gaze away from Silas's profile. He's grinning like he knows what he's doing to me, but doesn't call me on it. We spend the next two hours focusing on his game, and since I take it seriously because it's his work, I don't find it boring at all. He pauses the game whenever I have a question or see something that's off. I keep getting off the couch to point close to the screen, and Silas listens to everything I say. Sometimes explaining if something I see is actually intentional, other times, making notes on his phone when he agrees.
"We should hire you to go over all our final products. I like how thorough you are."
"Oh I don't know how helpful I actually am."
"Nah, I'm serious. When we send these games to the buyers for testing, there's always a ton more tweaking to do, depending on the console they're meant for, so it's never fully finished before we sell it. But having to fix these glitches in addition to platform changes is a pain in the ass, so it's nice to catch as many as we can in the early stage. This was really helpful, Lu. Thank you."
Shyly, I shrug and burrow further into the couch. I may snuggle a little closer to Silas in the process.
He keeps working, muttering glitches to himself every now and then. Completely relaxed, I lose track of what we're doing, too warm and happy, lulled by the steady low hum of the game and Silas's voice. At some point I drift to sleep, turning his arm into a pillow.