Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
But while I like to do some things alone with her, there are others that involve all of us. Which means I need Dev’s road trip to end really fucking soon.
Two nights later, we gather at Dev’s place. He’s just returned to town and he’s seriously hungry and can’t wait to eat.
His words.
I’m drinking a scotch as Aubrey plates the dish Dev’s been cooking. It’s some new chickpea, kale, and tofu number that’s making my mouth water thanks to the rosemary in it.
“I’m still amazed you can cook,” Aubrey says, clearly impressed with his kitchen prowess.
He turns off the stove, then he wraps an arm around her waist. “Woman, I’ve got lots of skills. Haven’t I told you?”
I scoff. “Only five hundred times.”
“Can’t wait to try your dinner,” he retorts, knowing full well I can’t cook for shit.
“Fair enough,” I concede.
We sit at the counter and tuck in. The food makes my taste buds sing, and I moan in culinary delight. “Turns out I don’t mind having a chef,” I say.
He lifts his fork. “I wouldn’t mind having someone to take out the trash. You game?”
“Boys, boys,” Aubrey says as if breaking up a fight. “There are enough chores to go around. Just like there’s enough of me. You simply have to take turns.”
“Your favorite thing to do,” I say, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
“It sure is,” Dev says, kissing her other cheek.
As we eat, I’m still thinking about the conversation with my dad at the stadium the other night. I’m glad I told Aubrey my decision about post-hockey life, but if we’re doing this thing—this throuple thing—I can’t leave out one third of us. I need to tell my friend.
I set down my fork and look my buddy in the eyes. “I told my dad I didn’t want to go into the booth with him.”
“Damn!” Dev seems briefly surprised before he offers a fist for knocking. “Excellent.”
There. It’s that simple with Dev. Some things are, and for that I am grateful.
Aubrey lifts her glass of wine. “While we’re at it, I told my mom I never wanted to marry Aiden in the first place.”
Dev whistles, looking from her to me. “Look at you two being all emotionally adjusted and shit. I almost feel left out.” He strokes his chin like he’s deep in thought. “Do I have something I need to tell my parents?”
I laugh. “No, dude. You’d worked through all your emotional baggage by the time you were ten.”
But he stays strangely quiet, unusually serious.
Later that evening, while Aubrey’s sending birthday emails to clients, I leash up the dog and then motion for Dev to join me for a quick walk.
“There’s something I did talk to my mom about last week,” he begins. “Something I want to do for Aubrey.”
He tells me his idea, and the nice thing about falling in love with the same woman is that you can make plans for her together.
59
DATE MATH
Aubrey
This is the way to wake up.
To scruff against my neck. To a hungry groan. To a request. Well, a demand, really.
“Sit on my face, baby,” Dev says.
I stretch and then rise up. “Since it’s an order.”
Dev growls, pats his bare shoulders. “It is. Fuck my face. Do it now.”
Ledger’s not in bed, but I wouldn’t ask his permission anyway. The three of us made a deal long ago so that there’s no jealousy. Some nights, Ledger fucks me. Some mornings, Dev does. Most of the time they both do.
I slide off my panties but leave on my plain white cami as I straddle him. Dev grabs my hips and tugs me down. I ride him like a cowgirl till I’m falling apart on his mouth, his beard, his desire for me.
A desire that feels a lot like love.
So much so that when I disappear that morning to meet my girls and finish the errand I started a few weeks ago, I know I’m not making a mistake.
That afternoon as I leave No Regrets, the tattoo shop, my arm’s a little sore, but not much. Trina and Ivy sat with me the whole time, like good friends do. When we arrive at my apartment, I fetch the dog, take him around the block, then hand him off to them, giving Puck Fitzgibbons a scratch on his chin before I toss on a dove-gray hoodie over my tank and meet the guys at Dev’s place.
We hop into Dev’s electric car, and the three of us cruise over the Golden Gate Bridge, heading north past Marin County, winding our way into Wine Country like we did that September day when my life was upended.
The best thing that ever happened to me was Aiden walking away. Now, I’m walking into something better with two men.
But first, I’m walking into Beverly’s diner. The guys picked this spot and said they wanted to take me here. Once inside, the woman who runs it flashes me a grin like she knows me. “Hey, you! You’re not in your wedding dress today?”