I catch myself glancing at each of them again and again, a smile jumping to my lips every time and a desperate feeling rising in my chest. I keep promising them both that this will work out, but there’s at least an even chance that I’m just helping the two of them find each other, and eventually, I’ll be on the outside looking in.
“This is what it’s all about,” Hawthorne says taking a bite of the gooey s’more.
Bowen nods. “Beautiful night, perfect fire, fresh-caught fish, roasted marshmallows, tent sex… it really doesn’t get any better than this.”
“Hey, do you remember that time when we were nineteen and we forgot our cooler full of food at home?” Hawthorne reminisces.
Bowen grins. “And we spent the whole week basically playing Russian Roulette with berries and mushrooms because there wasn’t a damn fish to be found in that river.”
They both laugh, and that feeling twists in my chest again. I love that they have history together, that they know each other so well, but it’s damn hard to compete with.
“You know what we should do,” Bowen says, bumping my foot with his after a few seconds so I look up. He’s looking right at me, not leaving any room to wonder who he’s talking to.
“What should we do?” I ask.
“The three of us should plan a road trip next summer, take a couple of weeks off work, and hit a few places. You guys can climb, I’ll fish, and it’ll be just us with nothing but a blanket of stars and a roaring fire every night.”
The enthusiasm in his voice, the way the dancing flames illuminates the excitement behind his eyes, melts away the insecurity that was worming its way inside of me. “That sounds fucking awesome. I’m in.”
“Me three,” Hawthorne chimes in.
“Good, it’s settled then. We’ll pull out a map and start planning it.”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “A map, grandpa?”
“Bow loves his old-school road trips. Don’t even try to pull up Google maps when we’re on the road. He will literally throw your phone out the car window,” Thorne warns, and I bark out a laugh.
“That wasn’t because you pulled up Google maps. It was because you wouldn’t stop texting and driving, dumbass,” Bowen argues. “Actually, I’m pretty sure your girlfriend at the time wouldn’t stop sending you pictures of her tits. Sexting and driving is even worse.”
Hawthorne grins as if he remembers it fondly. “Were you jealous?” he asks casually.
“Of the tit pics?” He snorts. “They’re aesthetically pleasing, but that’s about where my interest in tits ends.”
“No, I mean, were you jealous of my girlfriend? Of any of my girlfriends?”
Bowen finally seems to get what he’s driving at. Hawthorne has clearly been thinking about what I said, about Bowen wanting him for a long time. I almost feel like I’m intruding on their conversation by being here. Maybe I should pretend I need to piss and haul ass into the woods for a few minutes?
Almost as if he can sense that I’m about to flee, Bowen hooks his foot behind my ankle in a sign that he doesn’t want me to go.
“Yeah,” he confesses. “I was.”
* * *
BOWEN
I can’t believe I just admitted that to Thorne. Sure, he fucked me within an inch of my life an hour ago, but actually confessing that I’ve been jealous of his girlfriends, essentially admitting that I’ve had feelings for him that go beyond friendship for years, it may be a bridge too far.
I don’t even have the guts to look across the fire at him to see his reaction. Is he freaked out? Disgusted? Confused?
“I’m sorry that I didn’t know,” he says softly, and my heart jumps.
“I didn’t tell you.” I shrug. I finally work up the courage to look at him, and I swear there’s regret written all over his face. Regret for what, I’m not sure. Maybe that he ever hurt me, even unintentionally, or maybe for the years wasted missing what was right in front of him.
Aldis shifts on the log next to me, drawing my attention. My heart beats faster again and a surprising thought occurs to me. Maybe it hasn’t been missed time with Hawthorne. Maybe it had to happen this way so we could find Aldis.
I listened to a few episodes of the polyamory podcast while I was fishing, and the more I learn about it, the more possible it feels, even if part of me still thinks it’s a wild fantasy to ever imagine this thing with Thorne could be real.
I doubt it will be easy—relationships are complicated enough between two people—but it feels like it could work, as long as we’re willing to try.
We toss several rounds of logs onto the fire, chasing away the chill of the evening and the darkness, putting off letting the day end for a little while longer while we all talk and laugh about everything and nothing. There are mentions of the past and the present, and just enough of the future to make me hopeful and excited.
Aldis yawns widely as the embers of the fire are just starting to die down.
“Should I add another log, or are we ready to get some shut-eye?” I ask.
“I’m pretty beat,” Aldis says. “If we’re hitting the north peak tomorrow, I really need to get some sleep. But you guys can stay up a little longer if you’re not ready to get to bed yet.” He stands up and stretches.
“I could sleep,” Thorne agrees, and I stand up too, kicking some dirt onto the fire to douse the embers.
The three of us file into the tent and start to get ready for bed. I can’t believe I didn’t notice how tight the quarters were earlier, but I guess I was more focused on other things. As we all undress, throwing elbows and doing our best to avoid kneeing each other, it becomes abundantly clear that we’re not just going to be sleeping next to each other, we’re going to be spooning.
I end up in the middle, the two of them getting comfortable on either side of me. I used to have this silly fantasy of wrapping my arms around Hawthorne and feeling the rise and fall of his back as he fell asleep. I end up exactly in that position, my chest to his back, my cock hardening as he presses his ass against me, but then Aldis joins in from behind, wrapping himself around me and placing a kiss against my bare shoulder, his breath fanning over my skin, his heart beating against my back, and it’s clear that I’ve spent my life thinking too small.
How can something feel so fucking right when it never occurred to me before this moment?
“You comfortable, Thorne?” Aldis checks and my heart swells, feeling too big to be contained inside my chest. Aldis is worried about Hawthorne being uncomfortable. I don’t know why that means so much to me, but it does. It’s everything.
“I’m good,” he says, sounding surprisingly tired like he’s only seconds from falling asleep.
I duck my head and brush my nose against the back of his neck, just barely resisting pressing my lips to his skin, my heart hammering.
Aldis tightens his arms around me at the same time, and I press my body back against him.
Can I keep this? Fuck, I want to so badly.
* * *
HAWTHORNE
I don’t know if it’s the fresh air or the large, warm body wrapped around me all night like the world’s best weighted blanket, but I’m shocked to find the morning sun illuminating the inside of the tent when I wake up.