Sharing Hannah

The whole idea fascinated me, and always had. The idea that people would actually do this… that they could somehow share their partners with other people, somehow without getting jealous?

Well it pretty much just blew my mind.

And yet last night, I’d been talking with someone who actually did those things. A guy who by all accounts shouldn’t need any help getting a girlfriend, yet somehow felt the desire to share his woman with not one, but two of his closest friends.

It was enough to leave me breathless the rest of the night, especially after making a date with them. I’d spent a restless hour and half staring up at my bedroom ceiling, wondering what would happen when I met them on Friday night. Wondering what it could be like to date all three of them.

It’s just coffee, my mind told me over and over again. You’ll ask some questions. Get some great ideas for the article…

Only coffee was just for starters. Adam had told me they wanted to take me out — to dinner and beyond — as long as the four of us ‘hit it off’. I couldn’t say no. Or rather, Hannah couldn’t refuse… especially since she’d been the one who reached out to them in the first place.

So far I’d interviewed quite a few people involved in the polyamorous lifestyle. I’d met Paul, who had a wife and a girlfriend. I’d sat down with two other women who had multiple boyfriends each, and who’d even traded off from time to time.

But this situation… this was three guys willing to share one girl. Three young guys, just out of college. Friends and roommates who were looking for a very specific arrangement, at least according to the profile.

And it sounded a lot like they’d done it before.

I’d met Adam already, at least through text-messages. We’d even shared a few flirty photos before I’d drifted off to sleep. On Friday I was slated to meet Dante as well, and their other friend Trey. I had brief descriptions of each, based on their profile page and their collection of faceless — yet still smoldering — photos.

Shit, even their names were hot.

These things and more ran through my mind, as I typed up an outline of what I had so far. I needed to go deeper. I needed to get inside the heads of these guys, and find out what made each of them tick. This couldn’t be just some bubblegum article on a sexually charged topic. No, it had to be the best fucking article ever written.

“Hey baby.”

My body stiffened in my chair. The voice was like nails on a chalkboard. I knew its owner even before glancing up over my monitor, to where my smirking ex-boyfriend stood leaning in the doorway.

“Soo… What are we doing tonight?”

Three

BROOKE

Chris slithered into my little office without being invited. His body bent in a very snake-like, unnatural way, as he helped himself to one of the guest chairs.

“Same thing we do every night,” I answered, looking back at my screen. “Nothing.”

He asked the question almost daily, and always with the same smirk. My answer was always the same as well, but it never stopped him from trying.

“C’mon,” he said, shifting until he was comfortable. “There’s a new Thai place on State Street. They have the best drunken noodles.”

“Have you even had their drunken noodles?”

“No,” he said defensively. “But that’s what Yelp says.”

“Do you even know what drunken noodles are?”

He made a face, like he’d just swallowed something sour. I let out a little laugh-hiss, through partially-clenched teeth, then went back to typing, just to look busy.

“So I’ll pick you up at—”

“

CHRIS,” I interrupted him sternly, as always. “We are not dating.”

Now it was his turn to scoff. He let out a short laugh of dismissal, as if I were being totally silly.

“We haven’t been dating for what is it… six or eight months now?” I asked.