Chapter Twenty-Eight Lila
When Friday night arrives, there’s an Uber Black waiting for me outside my building, courtesy of Hale.
“Hargrove?” asks the driver when I open the back door.
“Yes. Thank you.”
I’m relieved to discover that he’s not a chatty chauffeur. It leaves me to fidget nervously in peace as I’m charioted about twenty blocks south toward Hale’s apartment.
Where three men are waiting for me.
“You’re about to have the best night of your life,” Lou had cackled earlier.
“It’s just dinner,” I’d tried to insist. “And a mature discussion between adults about the future of their relationship.”
Lou had quirked an eyebrow at me. I’d blushed. Gina had done her best to repress a giggle.
Regardless, I took an everything shower. I’m also wearing my prettiest lingerie and my most expensive perfume.
When I’d expressed to Lou that the mechanics of sleeping with two men at once was complicated enough—she had gasped and giggled in equal measure when I described the Eiffel Tower situation—and that I was completely out of my wits when it came to three men, she’d suggested I watch some educational videos online.
Rather scandalously, she had even sent me a few suggestions.
I won’t lie and say I didn’t watch them.
I don’t think I’m quite ready to attempt the impressive feats that I witnessed those professionals engaging in, though. Not tonight. But that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to explore every possibility further down the road.
When the driver pulls up in front of a classic brick building, pre-war just like mine, I step out onto the sidewalk on shaky legs. I’m wearing patent heels and a flouncy dress, and a vintage velvet coat with a cropped hem to ward off the autumnal bite in the air.
I nearly trip up the steps of Hale’s stoop, and I’m so off-kilter that I almost press the button for his neighbor’s apartment instead of his.
The door makes a dull buzzing sound, signaling that he’s let me in from upstairs. Part of me wishes he’d met me at the door, or perhaps even drove me here himself.
It’s not that I’m a flight risk, or that my anxiety is anything close to actual panic. But I am definitely debating whether I’m out to pee or puke from fluttery nervousness as I climb to the third floor.
Which is incredibly charming of me, of course.
I approach the door at the end of the hall. I’ve never been here before. I’ve only been to Evan’s place, and that was purely by happenstance.
Pausing before the door, I find myself having a last-minute concern.
If they’re all going to be my boyfriend, and things progress into more serious territory, what’s going to happen when it comes time for the conversation about living together?
Will I choose one to move in with? Will we all hunt for an apartment together?
What about little Leo? And of course the men will all have their separate bedrooms, but what about me?
Shaking my head, I take a deep breath and remind myself that these are the kinds of questions we’ll answer in time. It’s in my nature to strategize everything half to death, but this might be one of those times in my life where I have to learn how to go with the flow.
Lifting my trembling hand, I knock twice on Hale’s door.
Footsteps shuffle nearby, as if he’d been waiting by the door.
It swings open, revealing Hale dressed in nice black jeans and a gray collared shirt.
“Hi, Lila,” he murmurs, a smile dancing on his lips.
“Hello, Captain,” I purr, sounding much cooler and sexier than I feel.
“Come in.”
He steps aside. The interior of his apartment is more or less exactly what I expected.
Simply furnished. Comfortable, but practical.
A bit sparse, maybe, and slightly impersonal, but it definitely helps that the main area is currently also occupied by Evan, Noah, and at least a hundred tiny tea lights.
When I step over the threshold and get a closer look at the candles, I huff out a laugh.
Electric candles, of course.
Firefighters would never allow a hundred open flames inside a historic building.
In the middle of the living room, the large coffee table has been turned into our dining area. It’s set for four, with a massive bouquet of peonies in the center.
I step closer, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Noah and Evan.
“How did you know those are my favorite?” I ask, pointing to the flowers.
“I texted Lou,” Noah explains.
“I didn’t realize you’d built up such a good rapport with my best friend.”
He smirks. “Of course I did. She’s cool as hell.”
I laugh.
Hale comes up behind me, gently coaxing off my coat.
I shrug it off and try not to blush too hard at the way they admire my dress.
Maybe I chose it because the hem, while cute and lacy, is short enough that it’s flirting with danger.
Maybe I also chose these specific heels, too, because they make my bare legs look fantastic.
Evan clears his throat. “Should we eat first? Or perhaps talk first?”
I haven’t been able to eat much today, too full of anticipation, and I still don’t have much of an appetite now.
“Let’s talk,” I answer.
Noah flops down onto the sofa. Evan joins him on the other end. Hale comes around and lowers himself in the armchair opposite them.
I remain standing. When Noah pats the open spot between him and Evan, I shake my head.
“I’m too antsy to sit,” I admit.
Hale’s head tilts to the side. “Antsy in a bad way?”
“No… no, just…” I swallow hard, take a deep breath, and force myself to get a grip.
If this is what I want, I need to stop being so skittish about it.
“So, if I’m going to be in a relationship with all three of you, what does that mean for your dynamic?
I think that’s the question I need answered first.”
As if they prepared for this ahead of time—which they probably did—Evan and Noah look to Hale.
“Well,” begins the captain, drumming his fingers on the armrest and letting his gaze trail lazily down the length of my body.
“We’re all straight, so the romantic and sexual aspects will only go in one direction—toward you.
But, of course, there’s a platonic aspect to all relationships.
Evan and Noah are friends of mine. We share the love of a woman and we trust our lives in each other’s hands, so maybe friends doesn’t even cover it. ”
“But it feels a bit weird to use the term ‘brother’ in a situation like this,” Noah quips.
I nod once, clasping my hands behind my back so that I stop fidgeting with them. “So, in terms of sex… I would only do that with you guys one at a time.”
Another loaded look between the three of them, the same mischief mirrored in their gazes.
“Not necessarily,” Hale answers. “We’re all comfortable with any possibility you’re comfortable with.”
My breath stutters. My cheeks warm. I go molten between my legs.
“What kind of possibilities?” I venture.
Hale’s gaze darkens. I feel an inexplicable desire to fall in a heap on the floor and crawl toward him. Noah snorts, probably reading that thought in my expression. Evan politely pretends to rub his jaw to hide a smile.
Honestly, I’ve never been more turned on in my entire life. I think I might actually explode.
“Do you want to discuss it, Lila?” asks Hale. “Or would you like me to show you what’s on my mind?”
We should talk about it. We should be practical. Logical. We should…
“We…” My voice goes raspy for a moment. “I think perhaps I would appreciate a demonstration.”
“Alright then.” Hale readjusts in the armchair, as casual and confident as a king. “That’s a lovely dress you’re wearing, but I think we’d all rather see it on the floor. Am I right, boys?”
“For sure,” Noah answers.
Evan gives me a wordless, encouraging nod.
I can do this. I want this.
I reach for the hem of my dress and pull it up over my head in one motion that is, thankfully, reasonably graceful. My first instinct is to drape it neatly on the nearest piece of furniture, but Hale said they wanted it on the floor, so I let it drop.
All three of them stare at me standing before them in nothing but a lacy set and red heels.
When I move to kick off the latter, Evan shakes his head. “Keep them on.”
Hale hums in agreement, then beckons me toward him.
Fuck, this is really happening.
I come to stand between his spread knees, gazing down at him. His hands remain on the armrests, that wickedly dark gaze doing all the touching for a moment.
“Nothing happens unless you want it to, okay?”
“Okay,” I breathe.
“I mean it, Lila. All you have to do is say ‘stop’ and we’ll pump the brakes. No questions asked.”
“I know. I trust you.”
He sits up a little. I feel Evan’s and Noah’s eyes on my back as he glides his palms up from my thighs to my hips, along the curve of my waist, and then around to the clasp of my bra below my shoulder blades.
It pops free, and I let it drop to the floor and suddenly all movement stops. Noah’s eyes go wide. “Christ, Lila…those perfect tits.” He steps closer, “So full and pretty, look at those tight little nipples just begging for us.”
Evan exhales shakily behind me. “Fuck, baby, you are stunning.
I expect Hale to touch me, to see my pebbled nipples and know that I want him to pinch and caress and bite to his heart’s content.
Instead, with a knowing gleam in his eye, Hale slides his hands back down to my hips and tugs the thong down to my ankles. I kick it aside.
Hale’s gaze burns into me. “Turn slowly. Let them see what’s theirs tonight.”
“Fucking hell,” Noah murmurs behind me.
“Yeah,” Evan agrees.
Hale reaches for the buttons of his shirt, undoing as he instructs me,
I face the other two, biting my lip when I note their hands resting strategically over the fronts of their own pants. Behind me, there’s a rustle of fabric, and when I glance to the side, Hale’s shirt joins my lingerie on the floor.
His hands bracket my hips, gently tugging me backwards. “Sit down with me, Lila.”
He guides me back until I’m seated in his lap, his erection pushing against my outer thigh, and then pulls my backside against his bare chest.