Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Cassie’s jaw drops, and you could probably fit a mansion in her mouth now. But she says nothing. She’s shocked speechless. That’s a first.
My mother recovers her voice first. “You’re with both of them?” It comes out as a clarifying question, like she can’t possibly have heard me correctly.
“Yes. We’re together. I’m with both of them, and each guy is with me.”
“Oh,” she says, then tilts her head the other way. “Ohh.” She blinks. “At the same ti—” She slaps a palm over her mouth.
My dad raises a stop-sign hand at Mom. “That goes under things I don’t need to know, honey.”
Yeah, I agree, Pops.
Chagrined, my mom looks at me. “I’m so sorry.”
I scripted this morning a million different ways, but never did I think my mom would apologize for accidentally asking if I take a double dose of dick with my morning coffee.
“It’s no big deal,” I say, even though they’ve got two very big deals.
Cassie lifts a finger, speaking at last. “That’s why you were so upset the night you came to my house?”
“Yes,” I admit. “I didn’t think it was going to work out with them. But it did after all.”
“You didn’t tell me. You only said it was one guy. Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” she asks, hurt in her tone.
Is that a real question? “Because you don’t like most of my choices?” I say, but it’s more of a question. How is this a surprise for her?
“I don’t care if you’re with two guys,” she says, and is that honesty in her eyes? It sure looks like it. “I care if somebody hurts you. I never want anybody to hurt my little sister. And if they hurt you, they’ll have me to answer to.”
“That’s sweet,” I say, as unexpected tears prick the back of my eyes.
“It’s not supposed to be sweet,” she says briskly. “It’s supposed to be threatening!”
Mom laughs, then Cassie and I join in, and I guess her personality type is the one I added—the protector. Like Ryker. That helps me understand Cassie a little bit more. “So you wouldn’t have judged me for being in love with two guys?”
She’s quick with an answer, like she always is. “I think it’s strange. I don’t understand it. I don’t get it. But you brought me pound cake and called me when you needed someone, and you came to my shower with books. I think that’s all I can really ask for in a sister,” she says, and I suppose that’s as good as it’s going to get with her.
“Thanks,” I say, meaning it.
My mom clears her throat. “I have questions though.”
“Darling, please don’t ask that again,” my father warns, his tone stern.
“Not that,” Mom says, staring intensely at me. “More like what should I call them when I meet them? Will they both come over for Thanksgiving? I don’t understand how any of this works. It doesn’t make a lot of sense to me, but I understand it was a big deal for you to tell us. So I’ll have some questions. Like when I introduce all of you, should I say This is my daughter Trina and her boyfriends?”
And I was today years old when I learned my romantic mother is highly practical too.
I guess people have a way of surprising you. “Yes, that would work.”
EPILOGUE
TWO RIVALS AND THEIR GIRLFRIEND
Trina
A week later, I head to the park with my three roommates—my two boyfriends and my pervy little dog. We walk through the streets of Pacific Heights like, well, a throuple.
Along the way, Chase says, “So, I was watching this new dog video from the vet dude, and he was talking about dog DNA, and I thought we should get Nacho’s DNA tested. How fun would that be?”
“Only the most fun ever,” I say, because that sounds like Christmas and my birthday all at once.
“Make sure he didn’t just eat any panties when you swab his cheek,” Ryker says dryly.
I jerk my gaze to my bearded boyfriend, alarmed. “Is that your way of telling me he ate some undies?” Nacho’s been lingerie-less for several weeks now. I’m seriously proud of his panty-free diet. But he could relapse at any moment.
Ryker shoots me a reassuring grin. “Sweetheart, we hung your hamper five-feet high. In a laundry room. With a door that shuts,” he says. “That’s our job in the household. To make sure that boy is safe.”
He nods to the pooch leading the way, and I love that Ryker, a self-declared not a dog guy, has added Nacho to the inner circle of those he protects.
Chase clears his throat. “Speaking of household, did you know the word ménage comes from the French word for household?”
We all stop in our tracks, Ryker and I staring at Chase. “Is that you or did a word nerd take over your body?” Ryker asks.