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“I heard what she said the other night. About liking both of us.”

“You were eavesdropping?”

Oakley shook his head. “Not the entire time. Me and Woody had to have a little chat first. I was trying to talk him off the ledge.”

Joel rolled his eyes. Oakley had named his cock Woody—the least inspired name on the planet—and actually talked about it like it was a real person. “Then I also assume you heard her say she couldn’t choose. She’s never going to date either one of us.”

Oakley gave him a look that couldn’t be described as anything less that pitying. It annoyed the crap out of Joel.

“Who said she has to choose?” Oakley asked.

Joel frowned, still confused. “You’re going to ask her to take turns? And what happens if…when…we both fall for her? Because you know we’re going to. We can’t spend the rest of our lives going out with her every other day.”

“You’re so black and white, Joel. Think outside the box, man. We both date her. Together. At the same time. You were in that bed the other night. I dare you to tell me it wasn’t fucking hot.”

Joel wasn’t about to admit that. Even if it was true. Mainly because his feelings about the whole situation were so jumbled and mixed up, he didn’t know what to think.

That confusion was adding to his bad mood. He’d never made out with a girl in the presence of another person. Never considered sharing a woman with another guy sexually. However, that was all he’d thought about since the night of the wedding. He imagined it over and over, the idea keeping him in a constant state of semi-painful, half-hard dick mode.

It was becoming awkward and embarrassing. Every time someone came around, he felt the need to readjust his jeans to try to hide his erection.

“We were drunk.”

“Bullshit!” Oakley said loudly. “You know as well as I do neither one of us was anywhere near as drunk as she seemed to think we were. Find another excuse.”

Joel resented Oakley calling him out so boldly, even if the asshole was right. “I don’t share.”

“Wrong. You’ve just never shared in the past. You’re backing away from it because there’s some fucked-up voice in your head telling you it’s wrong. Did it feel wrong, Joel?”

“You gotta stop thinking with your cock, Oakley. That’s not how the world works.”

Oakley shrugged. “Maybe it should.”

“So what’s Woody’s big plan? We just walk into Cruisers, tell Sadie she can have both of us, and we live the rest of our lives in some sex-filled threesome paradise?”

Oakley slapped Joel on the shoulder, his face filled with delight. “Exactly!”

Joel laughed despite himself. “You’re insane.”

“I’m creative.”

Joel reached for another hay bale. “Even if I did agree to that—which I’m not—Sadie would turn us down flat.”

“You’re kidding, right? You’re the stick in the mud, Joel. Not her. I think she’d go for it.”

Joel wanted to argue that point, but he wasn’t entirely sure Oakley was wrong. What had Sadie called him? Boring? Predictable? He had to admit, Sadie was more like Oakley than him. So what would she say if they presented her the option of a threesome?

Joel discounted the idea immediately. It didn’t matter what she would say. He wasn’t making that damn offer. He couldn’t. Christ. He was raised in a devout Catholic home by a very strict but loving mother. He’d read enough of the Bible to know there wasn’t anything in there condoning an orgy-like, ménage a trois relationship.

What would she say if he pursued the same unorthodox relationship? What would Coach say?

“Shit. I can see the wheels are turning. Which means you’ve probably already talked yourself out of this. So, you’ve left me no choice.”

Joel didn’t like the ominous tone of that. When Oakley took matters into his own hands, things always took a twisted turn—sometimes fun, sometimes scary. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to Cruisers tonight.”

Clearly there was a hell of a lot more to it than just that. Joel took the bait. “What for?”