Page 56 of Necessary Roughness

Sloane

I was afraid that winter break would destroy the momentum of my relationships with Knox, Logan, and Roman.

Aside from the week when I moved back in with Morgan, we hadn’t been apart for more than a day since September.

And winter break was three weeks long. I wouldn’t see any of them until the first week in January.

They seemed to be wondering the same thing; the mood was somber as we said our goodbyes in front of the house, then all drove our separate ways.

But we kept in constant contact while visiting our families. Not an hour went by without one of the guys texting me, either on the group chat or individually. I even had phone sex with Logan one night when my parents went out to dinner by themselves.

It honestly felt like no time had passed at all when I parked my car in front of their house in January. Knox was waiting by the front door, a cold beer held in his hand.

We smiled at each other, went inside, and spent the next three hours making love.

Hard and fast at first, then slow and passionate for the second round.

The third round was a little bit later, after we’d polished off a six-pack of beer, and the sex was so drunken and sloppy that neither of us were able to come.

But we laughed about it, and cuddled, and didn’t care.

Logan and Roman returned the next day, and we all picked up where we had left off. Knox let the two of them have me that night, a threesome that left every inch of my body covered in sweat—and other bodily fluids.

I was excited about my spring semester. Now that I’d finished Physics and Art History, the only classes remaining from this point forward were for my graduate degree. That meant they were far more intensive, but I was only taking twelve credits—four classes—so the work was manageable.

Since the football season was over, I got to spend a lot more time with my athletes-slash-roommates-slash-boyfriends. Lazy mornings before class, and happy afternoons spent studying together on the porch as the weather grew warmer. And of course, every night was spent in a different bed.

“You know,” I told Roman one evening, “the original deal only covered the football season. You never formally extended the offer to the spring semester.”

“I was never part of the original deal,” Roman replied, rolling over until he was on top of me. “And even if I was, I don’t care about the terms. I plan on doing this until Logan and Knox graduate in May.”

“Doing what?” I asked.

He smiled, then spent the next half hour showing me.

Eventually, the honeymoon phase petered out and we weren’t having sex every night like in the fall. I still shared a bed with one of the guys every single night, but we only had sex three or four times a week. Enough to keep all of us satisfied and eager.

Can you imagine? Thinking that sex four times a week was cutting back?

Knox and Logan had to keep in shape for the NFL combine prior to the draft, so they were still working out twice a day. But Roman used his new free time to cook dinner every night. And he turned out to be a phenomenal cook.

“My nonna taught me to cook,” Roman explained one evening over a meal of pork Bolognese. “She told me the way to someone’s heart, whether they’re a friend or more than a friend, is through their stomach.”

“Did your nonna teach you how to fuck, too?” Logan asked.

Roman slowly put down his fork and placed his hands flat on the table. “Please never talk about my nonna like that again.”

Logan glanced at me and said, “I guess that’s a no.”

One thing that surprised me the most was just how well we all meshed together.

I’d had my share of roommates, good and bad, and it felt like a miracle that the four of us actually got along.

Sometimes we watched TV together. Sometimes we didn’t.

Knox taught me to play one of their shooting video games, so the two of us and Logan played that together when there wasn’t any good television to watch.

We respected our shared spaces, and always had our own individual rooms to retreat to if we needed some alone time.

I couldn’t believe how easy it all was.

One day at the end of February, I received a card in the mail. It was from Morgan.

“Your old roommate?” Knox asked. “What’s she want?”

“That’s the one,” I said while tearing it open. “Something tells me this is going to be bad.”

But to my surprise, it was a black-and-white photo of Morgan and Zane holding hands, their lips only an inch apart like they were frozen in time right before a kiss. And when I flipped it over…

“A wedding announcement?” I said in disbelief.

Logan snatched the photo out of my hand and read the note on the back of the photo. “This says she dropped out of school. And Zane quit his job.”

I took it back from him and read the note out loud. “Dear Sloane. I hated you when you first moved into my apartment.” I lowered the note and made a disgusted noise. “Even now, she thinks of it as her apartment, not ours .”

“Keep reading!” Roman urged.

“But if it weren’t for you, and specifically your promiscuous nature, I never would have met the love of my life.

I am glad your disgusting situation bore positive fruit.

Zane and I have moved to Arizona to build a life together.

I have added you to the spreadsheet for our Christmas card.

Please notify me if you change addresses so I can update our spreadsheet. Much love, Morgan.”

“Huh,” Logan said. “If you gave me a million guesses, I never would have predicted that.”

“We should send them a wedding gift,” Knox suggested. “A vibrator. Maybe that will loosen her up.”

I wagged my finger at him. “Hold on, now. Let’s not shoot from the hip on a wedding gift. I bet they have a registry spreadsheet of everything they want!”

That turned out not to be a joke. There was a URL on the bottom of the wedding announcement… and it led to a Google Sheet of everything they had registered for.

We bought them a calendar, which Logan described as, “the physical equivalent of a spreadsheet.”

*

The first week in March, Knox and Logan traveled to the NFL draft combine in Indianapolis. Roman and I celebrated by having lots of sex around the house. His favorite position was bending me over the couch, jackhammering into me with reckless abandon before pulling out and coming all over my ass.

“This was the first time I saw you,” he panted afterward. “When I walked in on you and Logan. Fuck, you were so hot.”

“Were, past tense?” I teased.

He gave my ass an appreciative smack. “Don’t twist my words. You know how goddamn sexy you are to me.”

Then he proved it by fucking me a second time without any break.

We spent that afternoon watching highlights from the combine, cheering whenever they showed Knox or Logan.

And since it was such a beautiful evening, Roman made us a picnic of sandwiches and expensive white cheese, which we ate on a Westview Wildcats blanket in the middle of the campus lawn.

We even had some nice white wine to go with it, discreetly poured into tumbler glasses since technically this was supposed to be a dry campus.

“I hope Logan gets drafted,” I said while we laid out on the blanket after finishing our meal.

“Just Logan? Not Knox?”

“Unless aliens come down and abduct him before the draft next month, Knox is guaranteed to be drafted in the first or second round,” I answered. “But Logan’s future is more uncertain. Right?”

He grimaced, then nodded.

“What are his chances?” I asked.

“Not good. Nowadays, the experts all post their predictions online. Logan isn’t on any of the lists.”

“Damn.”

“You never know, though. He might impress some teams at the combine.”

“I hope so,” I whispered.

“Sloane,” Roman asked, “are you happy?”

The question caught me off guard so much that I immediately sat up. “What?”

“Just a gut check. Are you happy?”

“I have a belly full of wine and cheese, and a devilishly handsome man at my side. How could I not be happy?”

He stared at me. He was waiting for a real answer.

I folded my legs underneath myself and turned to face Roman.

“I’m so happy that sometimes I can’t even believe it.

Like this is all a dream I’m going to wake up from, suddenly losing the three of you in the blink of an eye.

I’m happy when I go to bed, and I’m happy when I wake up, and I’m happy in between.

Except when you make me clean the kitchen. ”

“I do all the cooking, which means someone else does the cleaning,” Roman began to argue, but I stopped him by pressing my finger against his lips.

“I’m so happy , Roman. I never realized anyone could be this happy, let alone me .

And I’m happy that I don’t have to choose between the three of you, happy that you all accept that you have to share me.

Because if you all sat me down and tried to make me choose, I’d probably move across the country and stay single for the rest of my life.

There’s no going back to a normal relationship for me. Not after I’ve had this .”

A cloud shifted and the warm evening sun hit us as we kissed.

“You make such a mess when you cook though,” I said. “You got pasta sauce on the wall last week! On the wall , Roman!”

He roared with laughter, causing a cluster of students who were walking across the lawn to glance over at us. Roman kept on laughing, holding his belly like it ached from so much mirth.

And then he said, “I love you, Sloane.”

The sudden burst of warmth that filled my body had nothing to do with the sun. “I know. I love you too, Roman.”

We kissed again, deeper and deeper until we were rolling on the blanket, and we didn’t care that the nearby students were snickering.