Sharing Hannah

Shit.

In all the fun of my triple date, I’d barely asked any questions. I knew that Adam was in construction. That Dante worked in finance. That Trey was still on Cornell’s campus, working toward his Masters in Engineering.

And that’s pretty much it.

If I was going to dig deeper into Hannah’s lifestyle, I needed to know more. I needed to find out how these guys came together. What made them tick. I had to know more about exactly what they got out of sharing a woman between them, when it was blatantly obvious any one of them should have tons of women tripping over each other for a chance to be their girlfriends.

In other words, I needed another date.

Yeah… riiiiight.

I could hear my inner voice laughing already. Telling me what I already knew: that I had some very ulterior motives for wanting to see the guys again.

And that was putting it mildly.

“Fuck it,” I said at last, flipping my pencil away. “After last night, does it really matter??

??

I supposed it didn’t. I’d already gone all in. Laid my cards on the table, so to speak, and pushed in my chips. There was nothing much to hold back.

Besides, I had fun last night. Both in the bedroom and out. The guys were every bit as funny and laid back as their profile said they were, and the whole date had been effortless and natural. It wasn’t something I’d expected; to have such a great time. To be charmed and enthralled with them, rather than overwhelmed.

I’d expected three overeager guys chomping at the bit. Dropping the usual innuendo you got from some of the creeps on more traditional dating sites. And since there were three of them, I’d figured it would be three times worse.

Instead I’d been pleasantly surprised. Attracted to all three of their personalities, their wit, their cute little mannerisms. And of course, their looks. My God… their looks!

And let’s not forget their abilities…

I fell back on the bed again, returning mentally to last night. I’d taken everything they’d given me, from every angle. Hell, I’d welcomed and relished it… even when I was being woken in the dead of night by a warm, probing knee, gently nudging my thighs apart.

I was tempted to drag my hands over my body. Give myself just a hint of the physical pleasure I’d experienced last night…

But there was too much to do. Too many errands to run. It was Saturday, one of the days I hit the gym, went shopping, and took care of all my extraneous shit.

And it was already very late.

I grabbed my phone again, to check for messages from the guys. So far nothing. They’d certainly call — I was pretty sure of that much. But maybe they were wisely giving me some space. Following one of their ‘rules’ when it came to this sort of thing, if such a scenario could really be governed by rules in the first place.

I thought about these things as I straightened up, got dressed, and headed out. I stopped at the kitchen. Pocketed my keys, and went to grab the garbage…

Fuck.

Chris’s rose was there, sitting atop the trash. Staring back at me with its dead, dessicated leaves… like a big middle finger interrupting the rest of my day.

On a whim I picked it up and snapped the stem in half.

Thirteen

BROOKE

It was Sunday night when the first text came. I was relaxing on the couch with the phone on my stomach. Watching something stupid on television, while debating whether or not I should contact the guys first.

You did say ‘call me’ though.

It was the only thing stopping me. Normally I wouldn’t hesitate to make the first move, but in this case…

BZZZZZT!