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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CONOR

Morning light shines through the windows, the warm glow stirring me from my sleep. Still fuzzy, drifting between dreams and reality, I savor the quiet for a moment before feeling beside me. The sheets are still holding her warmth, but I’m saddened to find that Elena has already slipped from the bed.

Turning to my other side, I find my chest pressed against Victoria’s back. Her dark chestnut hair fans across the pillow, and I inhale the intoxicating scent of her jasmine shampoo. Slipping my arm around her waist, she sleepily pushes herself into me. Our first moment that isn’t overshadowed by the tension of our power dynamics. There is no holding back—only the warmth of each other’s touch.

“You look fucking gorgeous like this,” I mutter to myself, gingerly pulling her tighter, being careful not to wake her. But it doesn’t matter. Victoria stirs. She lets out a soft groan before shifting onto her back and opening her stunning hazel eyes. Tired and still hazy with sleep, she turns onto her side to find me watching her.

Her voice is thick and still heavy with sleep. “Like what?”

“Imperfect,” I reply, pressing my lips to her collar bone. She lets out a slow breath and shifts slightly. Her body still pressing against mine, she moves enough to untangle herself from me. There’s a subtle awkwardness in her motion, like my admission made her uncomfortable. But she doesn’t say anything in response. She just lies there, her body against mine as I run my fingers through her thick locks. I can feel the weight of her thoughts on my shoulders, and a quiet unease settles in my chest. This… thing. The three of us. Things shifting in me that I don’t fully understand. Things I’m trying to figure out.

She glances across my chest, clearly noticing that there’s only the two of us in bed. “Where’s Elena?”

Trying to gather my thoughts, I mutter, “I don’t know. She wasn’t here when I woke.”

“We should probably get up.” Victoria slips from beneath my arm and tosses back the blankets to climb from the bed.

I nod in agreement, though I would rather stay in here with the woman I woke up next to. But the fleeting moment has passed, and the tension is beginning to hang between us again. We both find our clothes and dress, the silence between us almost deafening. I want to say something— anything to soften her for me again—but I don’t have the words.

I follow Victoria to the kitchen where we find Elena. She has music playing softly on her phone and is dancing at the stovetop as she flips pancakes. Unlike me and Victoria, she is completely relaxed. She moves around the kitchen as though this isn’t complicated and the three of us aren’t tangled in uncertainty.

“Morning,” Elena greets us cheerfully, a bright smile lighting up her face.

“Morning, cailín leanbh .” I step behind her and pull her wiggling arse against me. Her hand slips over mine around her waist, and she strokes it tenderly as I place a soft kiss against the side of her neck.

“Pancakes?”

Victoria kisses her cheek before taking a seat at the small kitchen table. I grab plates for Elena and pour cups of coffee for both me and Victoria. Handing her a cup, I take the seat across from her. “Thank you.” Victoria’s voice is quiet but her tone polite, her eyes flicking to mine before looking away.

With only the table between us, Victoria suddenly feels distant. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m overthinking, and I just miss the feel of us intertwined with each other. Maybe I just miss that glimmer of submission. That’s what it is.

Upon finishing the pancakes, Elena serves them and places a plate before each of us, quickly returning with syrup from the fridge. “I would’ve made something else, but this is literally the only thing I could find,” she admits with a small laugh.

“I keep it handy for when my niece is here,” I explain. “She loves pancakes.”

We eat in relative silence, the clinking of forks the only noise in the room. It’s quiet and slightly uncomfortable, but I like it. Every time I glance across the table at Victoria and Elena, I feel a comfort that I can’t explain. Setting my fork on my plate, I confess, “Cat was right.”

They both look at me inquisitively, my admission not making sense to either of them. “What do you mean?” Victoria asks.

“My sister-in-law,” I clarify. “Having women stay for breakfast… This is nice.”

Elena looks at me, her eyes soft and showing her vulnerability—mirroring what I am feeling. She glances at Victoria, as though seeking approval, before breaking the returned silence in the room. “It is.” A small smile spreads across her face as though she is having the same thoughts as me.

I could get used to this.

The thought catches me off guard. This isn’t real. The three of us aren’t a throuple. I am merely a third wheel for them to have some fun with. The weight of my realization is heavy. The truth of it unsettling because it doesn’t feel right. I might barely know them, but I like falling asleep with them in my arms and waking to know they’re still here.

“I want to explore this.” I gesture between the three of us. It’s been an eternity since I had a consistent woman in my life, but I cannot deny our connection. I don’t do this—relationships—and I feel like I’m bumbling through this like an inexperienced teenager. “I like being with both of you. I like the three of us together.”

The two of them glance at each other, Victoria’s unsettled gaze landing on me. “I know you’re a couple, and what I’m saying is messy. And I don’t want you to say anything right now,” I quickly blurt before she has a chance to denounce my interest in pursuing something meaningful with the two of them. I hold Victoria’s stare, slowing my words as I continue, “You and me. You and Elena. Me and Elena. The three of us together. Whatever happens happens.”

“Conor—” Victoria’s voice cracks.

“I’ll take you as you are,” I clarify. “I’m just asking you to think about it.”