Dirty Daddies(70)

“Are we?” I ask, shaking my head about the whole thing before I take a swig of coffee. It goes down like a dream.

“I’m fucking happy,” he tells me. “You seemed pretty damn happy too last night. We hardly dragged you up there kicking and screaming, you were the one who gave me the nod before we even touched the girl.” He pauses. “Is this about your job?”

My eyes burn his. “Of course it’s not about my job. This goes way beyond my job.”

“Then what’s it about? Being too close to another man’s dick? Because truth be told, I’m not too stoked on that bit myself, but I’m getting over it.”

“It’s not about your dick,” I tell him, even though the memory makes my heart pound.

“Then what? Wasn’t it as good as you thought it would be?”

I shake my head. “It’s got nothing to do with how good I thought it would be.” The memories pile in and I’m embarrassed at how much I enjoyed it. All of it.

“So enlighten me, because I’m missing a puzzle piece here. She wants us, we want her, she’s perfectly legal and perfectly willing, so we took her, we came a lot, she came a lot. The end.” He glugs back his coffee. “Now we need to work out what happens from here on in.”

“I can’t do this,” I say, even though my dick hates me for it. “This isn’t who I am.”

“You don’t know who you are,” he laughs, as though I’m the one who’s fucking crazy here. “Ever since you holed up with Molly you’ve been going through the motions of some cardboard cut-out ideal of normality. You think being nice has to make you a fucking saint, man. And it doesn’t.”

“Just as well, isn’t it? Because I wasn’t exactly on my best behaviour when I was balls deep inside a girl I’m supposed to be taking care of.”

“You are taking care of her. She’s more loved than she’s ever been.” He sighs and I realise he’s as churned up as I am. “You have to tell me what you want to do here, Mike, because I’m drawing a fucking blank.”

And so am I.

I stare into the coffee like it holds the answer to this whole fucked-up scenario.

“I love her,” I tell him.

“I know,” he says. “So do I. And you’re my best friend, so I love you too. Not in a gay way, before you think this is a come on. It’s not a fucking come on. I’ve no intention of putting my face any closer to your dick than it’s already been, regardless of what that dirty little minx upstairs has to say about it.”

His stupid smile makes me smile back, and I remember again that this is Jack. My Jack. The Jack who’s always been on my team, no matter what.

“My balls were on your chin,” I tell him, and he laughs.

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure mine were on yours too. Who’s fucking counting?” His expression turns serious. “Tell me honestly that you don’t want to do it again, and we’ll draw a line under it. We’ll never do it again. She can choose one of us, or live with both of us entirely platonically. Whatever. If you’re really serious about this not being for you, then it’s not viable for any of us.”

I stare at him.

I think about it.

Contemplate the reality of calling time on all this.

And I don’t say another word.





Carrie



They aren’t there when I wake, and it cripples me. My heart races as I pull my knees to my chest, all alone in way too much bed.

I scared them away. This whole crazy thing scared them away.

I have to take a breath before I force myself out of bed. My hands are trembling as I grab a spare t-shirt from Jack’s open drawer. I tug it on and prepare myself to face the news.

Prepare myself for the crushing blow of having them both change their minds and throw me away.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

I head downstairs slowly, being so quiet on the stairs. I peek around the corner at the bottom, listening out for any sign of them.

The kitchen door is open at the far end. I hear low voices and wonder what they’re saying about me.

If they’re working out how best to let me go.

I could cry as I head closer, teeth gritted tight so they don’t see me break, but when I reach the open doorway it’s not a load of thanks but no thanks excuses waiting for me, but smiles and open arms and a fresh pot of coffee.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Jack greets. He pulls me in tight and I take a deep breath against his chest. “We thought we’d let you rest.”

“I thought you’d left me,” I admit, and he grabs my shoulders.

His eyes are fierce. “Never,” he says. “You’re too under our skin to get away from us that easily.”