TWENTY-EIGHT
Colby and Georgia had been in his bedroom way too long. Colby had said they were going in there to find a movie for all of them to watch, but that’d been half an hour ago. Keats tried not to feel left out as he sat sprawled on the couch, strumming his guitar. Their day out had been more successful than he’d expected after everything that had happened this morning. He’d been worried that it would be too much for Georgia, that the outing would overwhelm her. But she’d been determined to fight today and she’d kicked ass.
They’d kept it low-key. After Sawgrass, they’d gone to a quiet suburban shopping area and picked out new coffee cups to replace the ones they’d demolished. Georgia had had one rocky moment in one of the shops when a dark-haired man in a suit had brushed by her. She’d seized up and her fingernails had dug into Keats’s arm. Apparently, the guy had resembled Phillip. But Colby had swooped in and steered her out into the fresh air, leading her through some breathing exercise all the while, and calmed her before her anxiety took her off the rails.
Keats had been fascinated watching Colby slip into therapist mode, seeing that uncanny ability to morph his hard-edged dominance into this gentle but firmly reassuring presence. Georgia had responded to it instantly, and Keats had been glad it had been so effective. But while watching the two of them huddled together, he’d also felt his age and inexperience acutely for the first time. He could make women laugh, he could turn them on, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to be such a steady rock for someone, like Colby was. Colby was solid—the kind of guy built for marriage and fatherhood and all the hard stuff. The stuff someone like Georgia would eventually want. The stuff Keats wasn’t sure he was capable of.
So right then and there, Keats knew that even if something happened between all three of them, Keats would eventually become the bonus prize at the bottom of the cereal box—a fun thing to have around but not the stuff that nourished you. He was the expendable one in this equation. And he needed to keep that in the front of his mind going forward. He couldn’t lose himself to it. He’d already left himself too open by singing to Colby last night and letting some feelings show. That shit needed to stop. This was temporary fun, and he needed to enjoy it for that. Otherwise, he was going to get himself crushed.
After the day out, they’d come back to Colby’s. They’d ordered pizza and Georgia had managed to make it through the rest of the evening without any panic attacks. During dinner, they’d all shared a few beers, and Keats had finally been able to relax a little and find some peace in his role. They’d laughed and told stories about this and that. It’d felt warm and laid-back and like they all had been hanging out forever. And for a little while, Keats had felt a part of something instead of sitting outside the borders. But then Georgia and Colby had gone off to Colby’s room, reminding Keats of his place in this group, and the chill had settled in again.
Keats released a long breath and focused on strumming the notes for the song he was tinkering with. If nothing else, the last few days had provided a crap-ton of fodder for new songs. Nothing like your entire world and what you thought of yourself rearranging beneath you to inspire new material. Though the song he was fooling around with right now would get his ass beat down in most of the honky-tonks around town since it was clearly about a dude. Maybe he could go to open mic nights in gay bars.
Gay bars.
He shook his head at the thought. He’d have no fucking clue how to navigate those waters. When this all ended with Colby, would those be the kinds of places he would go? Now that he’d ventured down that road, would he crave men in the same way he craved women? All he could picture was one of the gay clubs downtown that looked like it was trying to revive Studio 54. So not his scene. Or what if he found that he couldn’t do without the kink? Where the hell would he seek that out? He sure as shit couldn’t afford the place Colby belonged to.
Suddenly, he had new understanding for how tough it must’ve been for Colby growing up in the middle of backwoods Texas and not just bi but deeply dominant and craving kink. What a fucking nightmare.
His fingers played over the strings with no real direction now, and he shifted on the couch, considering getting up and going to his room. He’d spent last night and this morning with Colby; he should let Georgia and Colby have some real time alone. But right when he set his guitar aside, the two of them walked back into the living room. Colby had his arm around Georgia’s waist and his button-down flannel shirt looked wrinkled. Georgia’s halo of hair was even more wild than usual. Almost fucked. That was the look. She wore it well.
Heat pooled low, Keats’s body waking at the sight of the two of them. Hell.
“Found what you were looking for?” Keats asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Colby held up a DVD of some zombie flick. “Yep. Turns out Georgia is a horror fan.”
“Only the supernatural stuff,” she clarified. “Nothing that could really happen. I save that for my books.”
Keats schooled his expression into a serious one. “Zombies could totally happen.”
Colby put his hands out to his sides. “Right? That’s what I’m saying. But she wanted this one anyway.”
Colby headed over to the DVD player and squatted down in front of the big screen on the wall. Georgia glanced at Keats’s guitar. “You sure you still want to watch with us? I don’t want to interrupt if you want to play.”
Keats didn’t know if she was being nice or if she really wanted him to be here. “I can leave you two alone. I don’t want to bother—”
“Scoot over and make room, Keats,” Colby said, his back still to them. “You’re not ditching movie night.”
A command, not a request. Dominant fucker. He shifted over and Georgia sat down next to him. God, she smelled good. Like some sort of spice—cinnamon, cloves, and something else he couldn’t quite place—probably eau de Colby. He tried not to notice how well-kissed her lips looked—glossy and a little puffy. Or maybe she’d been sucking Colby off. Keats’s stomach tightened, and he was unsure what turned him on more, the thought of Georgia wrapping her pretty mouth around him or the thought of being on his knees for Colby. He let his head fall back against the couch. He was a disaster. A horny disaster.
Georgia reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. “Hey, everything okay? I noticed you were moving a little slower this afternoon. Are you still sore?”
Yes, right between my goddamned legs. Can you make it better, please? He lifted his head and caught Georgia’s concerned gaze. He mustered up a small smile for her. “I’m all right. The injuries aren’t as bad as they look. It’s just been a long couple of days.”
She sent a sidelong glance toward Colby before looking back to him and lowering her voice to a near-whisper. “Do you want me to leave? I mean, if you need some time with Colby.”
He reached out and tugged one of her tight corkscrew curls, liking the way it sprang back when he released it. “No, George. I want you right here.” He looped his arms around her shoulder and then turned his head toward Colby. “Teach, I’m hijacking your woman for the movie. She’s warm and smells good.”
Colby peered back over his shoulder at the two of them. “That’s up to Georgia.”
Georgia’s gaze moved between the two of them. “Fine by me.” She settled her back against his side. “And Keats, let’s not pretend that you aren’t trying to hug up on me because you’re the one freaked-out by zombies.”
“Yes, you’re right. The undead aren’t to be messed with. I apologize early if I end up burying my face in your hair or something.”
“Or something,” she repeated under her breath.
Whoa. Okay. He’d only been messing around. Over-the-top flirting was his defense mechanism when he was nervous around a woman. But he definitely was down for staying like this if Georgia was into playing the game right back. The night had just gotten infinitely more interesting.
Colby snorted at the exchange, but there was a wicked glint in his eyes. He hit Play on the movie and turned the lights off, then sank onto the couch on the other side of Georgia. Without asking, he lifted Georgia’s legs and laid them across his lap, which meant Georgia had been turned farther sideways and was now half-lying against Keats’s chest.
He adjusted his arm fully around her and glanced down, inadvertently getting a view straight down her V-neck sweater. A lacy blue bra cupped round, full breasts. His free hand curled into his thigh, the temptation to touch her almost too much to bear. Now he was definitely thinking of much more fun places to bury his face than in her hair.
He forced his eyes upward and collided with Colby’s gaze. He’d caught Keats looking. Keats opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say—Sorry?
Colby lifted an eyebrow in warning and mouthed, No. Touching. But then a smirk curled his mouth and he added, Yet.
Colby turned back to watch the movie like there’d been no exchange at all.
All Keats’s blood rushed downward.
Well, fuck. This was going to be the longest movie ever.
—
Georgia absolutely could not concentrate on the stupid movie. Her heartbeat was going to make a dent in her ribs it was pounding so hard. Colby hadn’t sent her into this blind. They’d talked in his room before the movie. Well, talked and touched and made out. She’d been on a high from surviving the day mostly unscathed. But when they’d managed to come up for air, he’d told her that tonight could be whatever she wanted it to be. A simple movie night with friends. A one-on-one night in his bed. Or she could have Keats, too, if Keats was game for that.
It had been the obvious question hovering over them all day. Would they cross those fuzzy lines? Colby had left the decision firmly in her hands. And that’d made it harder. In the end, she wanted to watch the movie and decide later. She didn’t want the pressure of a plan.
But when Keats had asked to cuddle with her on the couch, it’d felt natural to say yes. So she was going with that. She’d been all too aware of the both of them at dinner. The sexual tension zipping through the room had been palpable—all three were having normal conversation with each other but in the undercurrent, they also were acutely aware of the secrets they knew about each other—how Colby looked when he jerked off, how Georgia sounded when she came, how Keats had been in Colby’s bed last night. Even watching the two guys throw verbal jabs at each other had gotten her warm because she could so easily sense the electricity between them.
But now she was freaking nervous. Yes, she was doing some kinky things with Colby. But a threesome was a whole other level on the Richter scale for her. These two really, really beautiful guys could easily overwhelm her. Colby alone was almost too much to handle. If she did this, she’d be jumping from a state of deep freeze into boiling lava, no pit stops in between.
She needed to breathe and calm down. Maybe she wasn’t ready for this quite yet. She just needed to watch the movie and enjoy the company. Though it wasn’t helping her state of mind that Colby had moved her long, flowy skirt to her knees and was idly stroking her calves as they watched the movie. And Keats had shifted behind her to where she was now basically lying against his chest. His knees were spread wide in that relaxed guy pose, and his cargo pants were situated in a way that had her imagination drawing pictures, especially when he’d discreetly adjusted himself a few minutes ago.
Dammit.
She forced her attention back to the movie, finding that the film was at the mandatory sex break in between the zombie attacks. The heroine and her boyfriend were locked inside a house and all was quiet for now. So, as per B-horror-movie protocol, clothes had come off. The woman was presently naked and astride the guy, rolling her hips and tipping her head back, making the oh-right-there face. Of course, they were showing none of the rather good-looking guy except his hands and face. A little grumble escaped her.
“Everything all right?” Colby asked, sending her a look of amusement.
“It’s annoying that all they ever show in movies is the girl. I mean, sure, she’s pretty and has a nice body. But would it kill them to throw the female viewing audience a little man ass or something? That guy has a good one. Boy parts shouldn’t be off-limits.”
Keats’s chest bounced gently beneath her as he laughed, and Colby’s dimples appeared.
“It’s unfair,” she concluded.
“Agreed. Horribly sexist,” Colby said, trying to look serious. “I do have Internet access on this TV. I could pull up some gay zombie porn for you. There will be man ass and boy parts galore.”
She sent him a sidelong glance. “Please, God, tell me that doesn’t exist.”
“When it comes to porn, everything exists,” Keats assured her.
She turned her head to look up at him and gave him a poke in the arm. “Speaking from experience?”
He gave her an oh-please look. “You do realize I’m male and grew up in the age of the Internet, right?”
“Wait, are you even old enough to watch porn?” she asked, blinking innocently.
Colby barked a laugh.
Keats pinched her side, and she yelped before falling into her own laughter.
“Low blow, George,” he said, but his smile was warm.
“Ha!” Colby said from the other side of the couch.
Georgia turned to face him.
He pointed the remote at the TV and announced triumphantly, “Would you prefer The Sucking Dead or 28 Dicks Later?”
Georgia was already a little giggly from a night of nervous tension and the beer, so at the sight of the two movie posters displayed on the screen, especially the one with the very shapely green male behind, she lost it. She slipped out of Keats’s hold as she bent forward, her shoulders shaking with laughter.
“Only nine ninety-nine. Yeah, we’re totally getting this,” Colby said, lifting the remote. “And I’m opening up the account in your name. Georgia Lawrence, lover of gay zombie ass.”
“Don’t you dare!” She went for the remote, launching herself at Colby. He lifted the remote out of her reach, and she landed half across his lap. He locked an arm around her waist, dragging her against him and giving her a flash of teeth. “Hey, I’m giving you what you asked for.”
“All I wanted was male nudity, not zombie ass,” she said, still stretching for the remote, but he tossed it over her head to Keats.
“Hit Buy, Keats,” Colby called on a laugh.
“Oh my God, the zombie fucks people back to life and that turns them into zombies,” Keats said, apparently reading the description. “Do you think he walks around saying ‘Asssss’ instead of ‘Braaaains’? Because if that’s the case, we need to watch this. I mean, how could we not? It’s like an obligation.”
She sent Keats a look of mock betrayal. “You are not siding with him. All I asked for was a little equal-opportunity nudity. Is that too much to ask?”
“Hey, I’m fond of nudity of all types,” he said with a grin, and reached behind him. He tugged his shirt over his head with one quick motion and tossed it aside. “There, it’s evened out now. Topless girl in the movie, topless guy for your viewing pleasure.”
But she was slipping out of Colby’s hold as soon as the shirt hit the floor and moving to Keats’s side, the purple bruises draining all the humor from her. “Oh my God, Keats. You didn’t say it was this bad.”
She laid her palm against the purple blotches, concern flooding her, but anger building as well. How could someone do this to him?
Keats sucked in a breath at her touch, but he put his hand over hers. “Aw, now don’t get yourself worked up over it, George,” he said gently. “It looks a lot worse than it feels. You’ve been lying on me all night and I was fine.”
She glanced up. “I’ve been—why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve never—”
“You were pressed up against me. It was worth any discomfort.”
The words were so honestly delivered that it tugged at that thing inside her she couldn’t resist. “Now you’re just not playing fair. I can handle cocky. But I can’t handle sweet.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled, though his gaze stayed serious. “You can tell me to stop and I will. Seriously. Just say the word. I’ll leave you two alone.”
“You want this?” she asked, knowing Keats was well aware of what was on the line here. “I mean, truly, both of us?”
He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Of course I do, George. You two are driving me a little crazy, actually. I have no goddamned idea what happened in the movie. But seriously, there’s no pressure.”
She traced gentle fingers over his injuries, her desire having a knock-down, drag-out fight with her good sense. “You scare me.”
He let out a little laugh at that. “Me? I would never hurt a hair on your head.”
“It’s not that. It’s just—you’re going through some big-deal discoveries about yourself, and I don’t want to be the girl you’re using to reassure yourself that you’re still into women. I don’t want to play buffer or get in the way.”
He shifted at that, sitting up straighter and taking her hands in his. “Look, George, I get the concern, and I may be a confused son of a bitch sometimes, but let me tell you what I know for sure. One—I’m into women. Really into women. I haven’t been faking it my whole life. So, sure, discovering I’m attracted to a guy is new and a lot to deal with, but it’s in addition to, not in replacement of, women. And two, I’m into you. This isn’t about finding the nearest girl and hooking up. If this were about proving my manhood or whatever, I could’ve gone to a bar tonight and gone home with a random girl.
“But instead I stayed here. Not just to hang out with Colby but to be near you, the woman who I haven’t been able to get out of my mind since I heard the two of you on the couch. I’m used to forward women. Or girls who know how to use their assets to get my attention. But it’s all flashy advertising. Once you get in bed with them, the confident act disappears as quick as the push-up bra and what seems like a daring night is really just . . .”
“Vanilla,” Colby offered from behind them.
“Yeah,” Keats agreed.
Georgia couldn’t help but smile. “Well, to their defense, you’re dating young women. At twenty, most of us don’t know what we want or how to ask for it. And the guys are usually thrilled enough if you know how to give a good blow job, so there isn’t a lot of motivation to explore further.”
“Exactly. And I enjoyed that kind of thing as much as the next guy, but when I heard you and Colby together, I realized I was missing out. The way you two own your dirty side is something I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. You’re both these professional, put-together people on the outside, but you have kinky streaks a mile wide that you aren’t afraid to embrace.” Keats’s green eyes were dark in the low light as they met Georgia’s, and she lost her breath for a second. Naked desire sat there, any shield he’d been keeping up falling away. “And it’s so. Fucking. Hot.”
Georgia closed her eyes, her heartbeat speeding to that rampaging pace again. Colby’s hands slid onto her shoulders and gave them a squeeze, a show of support for whatever happened next.
“If you don’t want me here with you two, I’ll leave you alone,” Keats said, his voice quiet. “But if you want me to stay, I’m all yours. For whatever either of you want from me, I’m in.”
Nerves were trying to seize her. Having Colby behind her and Keats only inches away, offering himself whole, was almost too overwhelming to process. But there was no denying the deep, hot ache building within her nonetheless. She wanted Keats. She wanted Colby. Plain and simple.
She’d spent so long in a locked-down, smothering relationship and then trapped alone in fear. This was everything the past two years wasn’t. A fantasy, sure. But more than that, this was part of her old self clawing to the surface and gasping for air, looking for the light.
“What do you say, gorgeous?” Colby asked, his whisper tickling over her ear.
She slid her hand down to Keats’s hip and lowered her head. Keeping her eyes closed, she pressed a kiss to his bruised ribs, then slowly moved her hand to the hardening ridge between his thighs and curved her fingers around it.
Keats breathed out a curse and Colby’s grip left her shoulders.
She lifted her head and brought her face close to Keats. “I think we’re done with movie night.”
“Yeah?” Keats asked, his voice strained.
“Yeah.” She stroked him gently through his pants and put her mouth to his, letting the pent-up desire she’d been feeling for him from the very start pour into a slow, rolling kiss.
Colby’s mouth touched the back of her neck, his hands sliding over her waist, and it was done. The three of them.
No more lines in the sand. No more pretending.
They were all tumbling into the churning ocean together.
Not a life raft in sight.