Three Words: A Novella Collection (43 page)

“
We’re not joking.”

Right. Well at
least we have that straight. They’re not in love with each other
and they want to have sex with me. Together. “So. Hypothetically.
How do you propose we’re going to have this threesome? Are you
going to be able to deal with the jealousy if we do it and I decide
I like one of you better? Won’t you want to kill each other all
over again? What will that mean for your business together? And
what about my feelings?”

Wow. I said
that so fast I almost sounded like Emily.

Nicholas pulls
the chair out that’s beside me. He straddles it; his knees are
close to my thigh. I can feel the warmth of his body on my leg and
we’re not even touching. “It will be an arrangement, a strictly
no-strings-attached thing.”

“
But I’m going to know who’s doing what. I mean, I will be
able to see you, feel you.”

“
Not if it’s completely dark, or you’re blindfolded. This’ll
be about pleasure only. For the three of us. We’ll remain
equal.”

“
But your hair, it’s completely different to Joel’s. And your
voices…”

I can’t
believe I’m even having this discussion. There’s no way I’m going
to do it. Is there?

“
We’ve got a plan. One of the rules will be that you won’t be
allowed to touch anywhere above the neck.”

There are
rules? I sit with my mouth open. I don’t know what to say. This is
not Fifty Shades of Threesome. I won’t be signing any stupid
contracts or engaging in kinky shit. I’m not bloody Anastasia
Steele.

“
When you leave the bay, that will be the end of it,” Joel
says, calmly. “Finito. Holiday romance over. We’ll never see each
other again. This is strictly for pleasure.”

Which would be
right up Joel’s alley given his aversion to commitment.

I pick up my
cider and drain the rest of the bottle. I am dumbfounded but of
course, I’m not going to take them up on their offer so the
logistics of the thing mean nothing. It’s hypothetical. I mean, how
could I? The idea of me having a threesome is beyond ridiculous,
even if they don’t think so. I cannot comprehend such a
thought.

But then
Nicholas looks at me, his large blue eyes search mine and he blinks
twice. Slowly.

Oh God. I’m
going to give in. Despite what my brain is telling me is right,
despite the huge warning signs flashing above his head I know I’m
going to give in.

*****

I wander about
the house with my head somewhere in the erotic clouds. After two
hours of discussion, I’ve agreed, tentatively, to meet the guys at
a club tonight where we’ll have a few drinks to get in the mood for
the ‘big event’. There’s no pressure on me and if I say no at the
last minute that’ll be it, they’ve agreed to accept any change of
heart. So this thing, if it happens, is up to me. I might have
agreed in theory, but I know when the moment comes my conscience
may well override any desire I have. Because when it all boils down
to it, I don’t know if I can have sex for the sake of it. It
doesn’t matter who’s asking.

At six, still
torn by indecision, I ring Emily but there’s no answer. It’s not
like her and it makes me worry so I leave her a message and send
her a text to call me. I need to know she’s safe. She’s all I have
left in the world.

By seven, I’ve
made up my mind to go through with it. I’ve de-haired every inch of
my body, plucked my eyebrows, given myself a home pedicure and
finished painting my fingernails. I’ve never given this much
thought to the way I look for seduction before, but I figure if
there’s going to be two men inspecting me, I have to look twice as
good. I’ve even straightened my hair, a process that can take hours
given it’s thickness, but I like how I look when it’s straight.
It’s sophisticated and grown up, not me. I’m someone else. I’m
feeling nervous now and a little excited. The butterflies I used to
get before I went on stage in dance competitions have resurfaced
and are flittering madly in my stomach. I actually feel rather
queasy.

At almost
nine, I pack my phone, lipstick and some money in my clutch. I go
to the toilet for the seventeenth time and as I smooth my dress
over my hips, I silently thank Emily for insisting I throw it in my
bag when I was packing. Then, with a deep breath, I head for the
door.

Chapter 7

I reach the
club about ten minutes later. There’s a queue and the door bitch
looks me up and down while scrutinising my ID. It doesn’t phase me,
I get asked how old I am all the time so I smile sweetly at her,
knowing that every bit of ID she’ll now ask to see will tell her
the same thing. I’m twenty-one. After making her point by getting
the security guy to check inside my shoes and pat me down in search
of drugs — ‘cause I really look like I’m a dealer — she allows me
entry. I can’t believe she’s made a fuss simply because she can.
Some people are on such a power trip.

Inside, I walk
around the bar looking for Nicholas and Joel. We decided to meet in
the furthest corner from the door but the guys aren’t here yet
which is doing little for the second and third thoughts I’m having
about this. I’m more nervous than before. So nervous, in fact, the
minute I receive my first drink I knock it across the counter of
the bar without even having a sip. The second drink disappears in
much the same fashion because my hand is shaking, so I decide to
buy two straight shots of tequila for my third attempt. Firstly,
the glasses are so small I can’t possibly knock another one over
and secondly, if I drink it fast, I might loosen up and calm down.
Because right at this minute, I think I’m going to throw up. My
stomach is in my mouth and the butterflies I felt before I left
home are clomping around inside it, wearing boots. I have no idea
what possessed me and I certainly don’t know why I spent the last
four hours preparing like I’m going to an up close and personal
photo shoot. I am not a threesome kind of girl. I’m so confused. I
don’t know what kind of girl I am any more.

I down my two
shots and order a glass of champagne and some water. The barman
frowns at my swift ordering of drinks but says nothing. He probably
sees girls every night who come here to pick up. Lonely girls on
holiday looking for a bit of fun and ordering Dutch courage to make
it easier. Is that what I am? Are the guys taking advantage of me?
Have they spotted that I’m vulnerable and are swooping in for the
kill? Maybe they do this all the time. Despite what they’re saying,
they could be serial threesome types and everything they’ve done
for me so far is part of their routine.

Why am I even
here?

I take a glug
of my champagne; the bubbles go up my nose. Deciding that I never
should have consented to this insanity, I pick up my purse to leave
and turn… SMACK!… into the rock hard chest of Joel. His hands fly
to my elbows, steadying me. A flicker of attraction builds and
explodes as my eyes travel slowly towards his face where a waiting
eyebrow quirks in my direction.

“
Going somewhere?”

“
Um, hi.” Wow. He looks hot. Literally sizzling, in fact. He’s
wearing dark jeans and a crisp white shirt. There’s a leather thong
at his throat with something heavy and silver hanging from it. His
hair is newly washed and still damp, I can smell the shampoo. And
he’s shaved. The skin of his jaw looks so smooth; I just want to
touch it. I swallow. “I was just, um, just popping to the
loo.”

“
You weren’t leaving?” He sounds almost sad, as if he’d be
devastated if I had decided to leave.

“
Of course not.” I try to relax my smile but I know I’m
showing a lot of teeth and probably look like some sort of deranged
person who forgot to take her medication. “Order me another drink,
I’ll be back in a tick.”

And with that
I race to the toilet, which is lucky because, by the time I get
there, I find I really do have to go. Again. Damn nerves.

So, I’m
standing in line, jiggling my leg and checking out the clothes of
the other girls in the queue — one has a rather nice pair of
strappy sandals and these cute pants — when my phone vibrates in my
clutch. It’s Emily.

“
I rang you hours ago,” I admonish. “I left three messages and
a text. I was so worried. Where are you?”

“
Calm down, Clarice,” Emily replies, with a giggle. I, so,
hate it when she calls me that. “I could ask you the same
thing—”

Huh?

“—
I’m at yours. Where the hell are
you
? I turned up
expecting to find you curled up in your jimjams eating chocolate
and reading one of those inane books you like but it’s blacker than
the inside of my wardrobe in your house.”

That’s saying
something. Emily wears trademark black almost everywhere. It’s like
her thing.

“
You’re here? How can you be here?”

“
I thought I’d surprise you. Come up and spend the weekend,
have some girlie time, then give you a lift back to town. I swapped
my shifts at the café.”

Suddenly, I
have this sinking feeling like the blood has drained from my body.
There’s a distinct chance I might actually be going to vomit for
real. There are two men waiting for me in the bar. My best friend
is waiting for me at home. I cannot introduce them. I cannot. They
must not meet because Emily must not know. She’d be appalled. She
thinks I’m so straight, so under the radar that me doing something
so out of the ordinary might tip her over the edge. Because no
matter what she says or how she acts, Emily is the monogamous type.
She’s fragile. She abhors people who have affairs, no matter what
the situation. Seeing me with two men would knock our friendship
into the bay. Either that or she’ll try to chat up Joel. He’s
definitely her type. A stab of jealousy twists at my insides as I
contemplate
that
idea.

“
I’m at a club,” I say, “But I’ll come home. Give me five
minutes. It’s not far.”

“
You’re at a club?”

“
That’s what I said.”

“
Alone?”

“
Not exactly. There’s about two hundred people here. It’s
packed to the gills.”

Not to mention
the two guys I’m with.

“
Awesome. I’m so glad you’re getting out again. You haven’t
been yourself for a long time. Give me directions and I’ll meet you
there.”

“
Um, er, um.” This is not good. I should have said I was at
the library. Emily never goes there. I don’t think she even knows
what a library is.

“
What’s wrong? Don’t you want me to come?”

Oh geez.

“
Of course I do.”

“
But—”

How can I say
‘but I don’t want to share my two boyfriends without offending her?
She’ll be awfully upset and I wouldn’t hurt her for the world. An
elongated sigh escapes my lips. “But nothing,” I say in the
perkiest, most enthused voice I can muster, “Get your butt down
here this second.”

“
Hashtag, magic!”

“
And no more hashtags. You’re not an Instagram
celebrity.”

“
Yet.”

I tell Emily
the address and hang up my phone, which I slip back into my bag. My
nerves appear to have subsided, along with my need for the toilet,
so I rush back to the bar hoping to at least get a chance to speak
to Nicholas and Joel before Emily arrives. I have to tell them I’m
sorry, that I didn’t plan for this to happen, that this is not some
scenario I’ve concocted to tease or worse still get out of the
threesome. And it’s certainly not because I’m keen to engage in
some sort of sex-party-slash-orgy thing between the lot of us. More
importantly, I have to warn them about Emily. She’ll be like a bee
to honey when she sees these two.

*****

The music is
ripping when I get back from the toilet. Strobe lights are bouncing
around the room making everyone look like they’re doing strange
robot dancing. The crowd has increased but it’s easy to see the
boys. They have this presence that makes the rest of the crowd pale
into insignificance. Plus, there’s a group of five or so girls
about my age in the corner tittering in their direction. Their
giggles are like a beacon pointing straight toward my men.

My men?

Hmm
.
Not yet. Probably never if Emily gets wind of it.

Nicholas hands
me a drink and I take it, downing the entire glass in one go.

“
There you are,” he says. “Joel and I were worried we’d have
to brave the depths of the ladies’ loo to look for you. Thirsty
work waiting in the toilet line, huh?”

I put my glass
on the bar. “Not really. Listen, I’ve got something to tell you and
I don’t know how you’re going to react.”

Joel, who’s
been eyeing off the dance floor, swivels to face me. “You’ve
changed your mind. No biggie. We’ll cope.”

I hate that
he’s being so blasé about this when I know he likes me, more than
likes me. What’s the deal with that?

“
No. No,” I answer. I’m practically screeching and it’s then I
realise that I haven’t changed my mind at all. It was simply my
nerves getting the better of me and making my mind think silly
things. “But there could be a problem. There
is
a problem.
While I was in the toilet, my best friend Emily rang. She’s here.
She wanted to surprise me. She’s on her way over. She can’t ever
know I was considering a threesome. She just can’t.”

Nicholas runs
a hand through his hair. I feel myself dissolve into a little lust
puddle beside him. “We can call it off,” he says.