Threes Company (11 page)

Because later that night, when we were in my room,

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I really wasn't prepared for what it was like. It was hot, and I was so turned on, but it was something more than that.

I sat there in a chair a few feet from the foot of the bed and watched. But they didn't fuck. They made love.

It was slow and tender, and there were so many unspoken words between them. They fucked missionary style with Adam on his back and Simon over him, rocking and thrusting oh-so-slowly. Their hands were on each other's faces with soft kisses, quiet moans, and whispered words.

And I just fucking watched.

It was beautiful.

And it damn near broke my heart.

There was a lump in my throat and my stomach was tied in knots. Tears burned in my eyes and probably would have fallen if Adam hadn't come. With a strangled cry, he lifted his knees higher and his fingers dug into Simon as his orgasm rolled through him and smeared between their bodies.

I considered standing up and walking out of the room. It was that one split second when you hesitate and your body doesn't do what your mind is telling it to do. I wanted to leave. I wanted to let them have this moment. I wanted to
not
see what they had when it was something I would never have myself. I wanted to run and hide, and

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scream and cry, and I wanted to punch my ex-lover, for never
loving
me like that.

I wanted… I wanted…

"Stop."

Adam's voice was just a whisper, but Simon

stopped immediately and asked him, "Babe, what's wrong?"

Adam turned his face and smiled blissfully at me.

"Wil?"

I could barely think straight. "Huh?"

Adam looked up at Simon, who was still leaning over him, still inside him. "I want Wil to join in. It's only right."

Something I couldn't quite recognize flashed across Simon's face, and he slowly pulled out of Adam. He lifted one of Adam's knees and helped him roll over, so he could get onto his knees. Adam patted the bed, motioning for me to lie in front of him.

All my willpower to walk out the door and leave them to it just disappeared. I had my shirt and shorts off and was kneeling on the bed in front of them both before I could blink.

Adam pushed me down onto my back, pulled my

aching hard-on out of my briefs, and took me into his mouth. And from the groan that resonated low in his throat

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and by the way Simon's head fell back behind him, I knew Simon was once again buried inside Adam. Adam pulled his mouth off my dick. "Oh, fuck, yes, Sy. Just like that."

Adam hummed and moaned and licked at me once

again. "Mmm, Wil, love how you taste." And then he took me deep once more. He started to rock with Simon's thrusts, and my cock would fuck his mouth with each pass.

Simon lay over Adam's back with his hands hooked under Adam's shoulders, just rocking his hips into him, making Adam moan around me.

With Adam's head low as he sucked me, and with Simon leaning right over him, Simon eyes locked onto mine.

And he stared at me.

His blue eyes were dark and intense, and he never looked away. He was panting now, and groaning, but he never looked away. His eyes, his stare…

I couldn't look away. Even as the pressure built and the heat of pleasure crept through my belly and along my spine, I couldn't take my eyes from Simon's. He was looking at me, like…

…like he looked at Adam.

And with an almost silent scream, Simon's head fell back and he came. I watched as the planes of his chest expanded, his muscles tight, and Adam groaned as Simon

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came inside him.

My entire body convulsed and sensations too pure to contain rolled through me. Adam groaned again when I filled his mouth, my release shooting hot and hard.

When we fell into a heap, we lay there, the three of us, tangled together like we normally did.

But it was different.

It was quiet. No one chuckled, no one joked, and no one said a word.

Something had passed between us, something

shifted. And I wasn't the only one to feel it.

Simon got up from the bed, and instead of going to the bathroom like he normally did, he pulled on his briefs and pants. Adam, who was snuggled into my chest, rolled over to look at him. "What are you doing?"

Simon continued to get dressed. "Gonna head home.

Haven't been home for a night in over a week."

"What?" Adam whispered. "Sy, no. Stay here, please."

Simon had his shirt on now. "It's okay. You can stay if you want," he said tightly, and I knew it wasn't okay at all. Then Simon leaned over and kissed Adam's lips. "Love you."

Adam half sat up, and I swear I could hear his heart thumping. It was as though he had to choose between me

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and his boyfriend. "Sy…"

"It's okay," I finally spoke up, not wanting Adam to think he had to spare my feelings. "Adam, you should go.

You haven't spent a night in your bed for over a week either. You must miss it."

Fuck.

"Anyway," I added, trying to make it easier, "that way I'll get this entire bed to myself. I might even get some sleep."

Adam looked at me and frowned. Then he looked at Simon. And after a long moment, he rolled off the bed, and, without a word, got dressed.

Simon waited for him at the door, and Adam picked up his shoes he walked over to where I was now sitting on the bed. He kissed me, then his eyes dropped and he whispered, "I'm sorry."

And they left.

Simon hadn't even looked at me.

I crawled into the middle of the bed, where Adam normally slept, and just lay there. The bed smelled of them, of us, of what we just did.

And I lay there alone in a bed that was far too big and lonely. I was used to having bodies, touching hands, arms wrapped around me, and the sound of breathing. Now there was silence. And a dull ache in my chest.

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Sleep didn't come easily.

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I woke with a start. I had no idea what time it was, but the sun was up and I knew I'd missed my morning run with Simon.

Simon.

Then I remembered. And the heavy lump returned to my chest. I wasn't sure if it had gone anywhere. I'd just had the luxury of being unaware while I slept. With a sigh, I rolled out of bed, showered, and went in search of coffee.

It was later than I'd thought it was, and I'd missed the breakfast shift altogether. Not that I minded. I'd also missed the likelihood of running into either Simon or Adam, and quite frankly, I wasn't up to seeing either of them.

So I walked straight through, down the stone steps, and onto the beach. And I walked. And I kept walking until I'd stopped thinking. All my head was full of was salt air and Florida sun.

By midafternoon when I got back to the hotel, I was starting to feel okay.

Until I saw Adam.

He was behind the bar, cutting up fruit for

garnishes. His eyes lit up when he saw me, then, like he

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remembered the night before, his face dropped. It was unlike him to frown.

I intended to go straight to my room, but his voice stopped me.

"Wil?"

I turned to face him. His scruffy blond hair was like it always was, but his eyes were sad, and I couldn't walk away from him. I walked back to the bar and sat down.

There were other customers walking around and swimming in the pool, but the bar was empty.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I still don't know what happened." He shook his head and his forehead creased.

"We were having a great time, and it was hot, and intense, then"—he shrugged—"then Simon just… then it was over."

I nodded, not really knowing what to say.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I just wish…" He struggled for words again. It was so unlike Adam to be so torn. "I just wish he'd talk to me."

"Simon won't talk to you?"

Adam shook his head. "Not about what happened. I mean, I know something happened during sex. It had to have. Everything was fine before."

I nodded. He was right. I saw it. I saw it in Simon's eyes. The moment he looked at me, with Adam in-between us, Simon stared straight at me. But how did I tell Adam

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that? How did I explain to him that his boyfriend—the man he obviously loved—looked at me exactly like he looked at him?

The answer is: I don't.

The truth was, I was leaving. I meant nothing to them but some temporary fun. I was only a third wheel to play with for the duration of my stay. That was the truth.

Not what my heart told me. Not what my heart wanted.

The truth was, I wasn't a part of them.

I looked at Adam, just in time to see his gaze dart over my shoulder. I turned to see Simon standing in the foyer watching us, but he quickly turned on his heel and walked off in the other direction.

I looked back at Adam. He was frowning again. He looked miserable. He took the knife and went back to preparing his garnishes, but it would seem only to do something with his hands.

Needing to know, needing to hear it, I cleared my throat so I could ask, "About tonight…?"

Adam only got through one slice of orange before he put the knife back down and his shoulders fell. His silence and his inability to look at me was answer enough.

I stood up mechanically and nodded. I understood.

Fuck.

Whatever we had was done.

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It was one thing to assume. It was another to have it confirmed.

Maybe it was the fact I didn't sleep much the night before, or maybe it was heaviness that settled in my chest and seeped into my bones. Because despite the sounds of Sunday night, of the music and the laughter and living of life outside my door, and despite the bed being too empty, I slept.

* * * *

I woke up feeling like shit. Figuring a run would do me good, I put on my running gear and headed out. I went left instead of right, away from the headland and the possibility of running into Simon.

Even after only running for a week, I could feel a difference. And I understood why Simon did it. The same reason Adam swam. If not for fitness, to clear the mind.

I got back to the hotel, showered, and dressed. I was starving. I couldn't remember eating the day before, so I dug a book from the bottom of my suitcase, grabbed a plate of fruit and a coffee, and sat my usual table overlooking the water.

I'd packed a few books and my iPod thinking I'd be alone for the duration and would need something to do. So

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to give a clear indication I didn't want to speak to anyone, I deliberately sat with my back to the hotel, put my earphones in, turned the music up, and stuck my nose in the book.

The only person to interrupt me was Sydney. She came to collect my empty plate and cup, but she never spoke. She simply placed a fresh coffee in front of me, patted my arm, and took my dirty dishes away.

If Adam and Simon saw me, watched me, or tried to speak to me, I didn't know.

I did I look up occasionally at the people who walked by me, heading toward the beach. The Monday crowd was quieter than the weekend one. A lot of the guests had left but some new faces arrived.

Sydney interrupted me again, this time with a plate of salad and cold meat and a bottle of water. Though this time she didn't really smile. It was more of a raised eyebrow, and when I pulled one earphone out, her face became stern. "Eat," was all she said, before walking back into the kitchen. She reminded me of Callie. I smiled for the first time in what felt like forever.

It wasn't until I looked at the plate of food that I realized it was lunchtime and I was actually hungry. When I was done with the food and had had enough sun for the day, I stripped off my shirt and dove into the pool to cool

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off.

Dripping wet, I collected my stuff off the table. I flicked my hands through my hair, trying to dry it as much as possible, and found myself facing the bar. Adam was staring at me. He licked his lips and swallowed hard, and the guy at the bar smiled at me.

I ignored them both and went to my room.

* * * *

I wasn't overly hungry and I didn't want to spend the whole evening in my room alone with my thoughts, but I didn't really want company either so I headed out into the hotel courtyard with my book and iPod. My usual table was taken by people having dinner, so I took an empty one that was unfortunately closer to the bar. Closer to where Adam was. But once again, I sat with my back to the rest of the hotel, put my earphones in, and found my page in the book.

It was maybe an hour later when a tap on the arm startled me. I looked up to see the same guy who'd been sitting at the bar before talking to Adam. He was smiling nervously at me, so I pulled out my earphones and looked at him, waiting for him to speak.

"Uh, hi," he started. Then he motioned toward a chair at my table. "Can I join you?"

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I blinked at his request, surprised he'd asked. I would have thought the "I don't want to talk to anyone"