Page 79 of Sharing Shadow Secrets (High Five Novella #6)

One month later

S ipping my candy cane mocktail at High Five, I can barely believe how much my life has changed since July.

Brandon and Kyle are seated on either side of me at the tall boy table in the Christmas-themed pop up, all of us in ugly sweaters we thrifted near Kyle’s place.

Brandon’s has little llamas in Santa hats, Kyle’s has Santa riding a unicorn, and mine says Sleigh All Day in sparkly red letters.

We blend right into the loud decorations and louder crowd.

Tinsel and lights hang from the ceiling, and I’m happy numerous media outlets have included High Five as one of the best places to get in the Christmas spirit this season.

We weren’t planning on making the weekends ticketed events, but with the demand, we had to.

Right now, I’m not tasked with thinking about logistics or taking photos and videos for social media. My new employee, Heidi, is doing all of that. Tonight, I’m just here as a guest with my boyfriends. Enjoying a weekend away from Chicago and a weekend together.

My boyfriends.

I take another sip of my drink, still wrapping my head around the fact that I have two boyfriends. We made it official two weeks ago after our first group date. They wanted to teach me to play pickleball. After endless innuendo about balls, I just went for it and asked them.

Brandon squeezes my hand. “You good?” he asks softly.

I nod, smiling so wide my cheeks hurt. “Yeah.” I glance at the gift bags tucked between us. “I want you two to open mine first.”

They exchange a playful, curious look. It’s one I’ve come to recognize as theirs, and seeing it always makes my chest ache in the best way.

I slide the plaid bags to them, and they dig into the tissue paper.

Inside are matching two-toned bracelets: three interlocked bangles fused into one—fluid, minimal, both masculine and feminine. The silver bands representing them. The gold one me.

Kyle holds his up, turning it in the light. “It matches the one you’re wearing,” he says, glancing at my wrist. Then he squints at me. “I thought we were doing small gifts.”

“Well,” I say, unable to stop smiling, thinking about how much I love having both of them in my life. “My business is booming. I wanted to spoil you. And I thought we could all wear them every day—to show our commitment.”

“I love when she’s territorial,” Kyle teases, locking eyes with him.

Brandon fastens his bracelet and leans in to kiss my temple. “I love when she looks this happy.”

“I love when you two talk about me like I’m not right here,” I say, giggling.

“Thank you,” Kyle says, tugging back my sleeve and kissing my bracelet. “Now open mine next.”

He gestures to the small box with a sparkly “T” sticker. Brandon slides the “B”-tagged box closer to him.

Inside mine is a key.

“So you can come to my place whenever,” Kyle says, a little shyly. His apartment is old school—you still need a physical key to get in. Brandon’s and mine both use codes.

“Now I won’t be stuck standing in the snow,” Brandon says, already slipping the key into his wallet.

It’s a simple gift, but it symbolizes so much. We share each other, our places, everything.

“High Fivers,” Aaron’s voice says into a microphone carrying through the bar’s speakers. “It’s that time again … to tell Santa what you would like for Christmas. And this year he’s joined by his very own Mrs. Claus.”

I let out a delighted squeal as Nicholas and Emily step into view. Nicholas is in his Santa suit again, now with a full beard to match, and Emily looks like a vintage Christmas dream in a floor-length red dress trimmed in white fluff, cinched with a wide black belt.

Aaron hands off the mic to Nicholas, who strokes his beard dramatically. “We have an exciting announcement from the North Pole,” he says, glancing at Emily.

She places a hand on her belly, then turns slightly to reveal a small but unmistakable bump.

“This miracle …” Nicholas’s voice cracks. “We thought we’d be making this announcement months ago. But now …” He looks at Emily, eyes wet. “We’re thrilled to share that baby Noel will be joining us in early June.”

The bar erupts in cheers and applause while I blink back tears, smiling through the joy that fills the room.

I glance over at Heidi—thank God she got it all on video. This will be great for social media, plus for Nicholas and Emily to have as a memory.

From across the bar, Patrick raises his glass toward us before taking a long sip. Emily’s friends, Sarah and Rachel, rush to her side, all hugs and squeals.

Beside me, Kyle leans his head on my shoulder. I turn into him instinctively, tucking my cheek into his black hair.

“No impregnating Taylor,” Kyle says, still leaning against me.

“For at least three years,” I add with a laugh.

Brandon rubs his eyes like he’s embarrassed with us. Kyle and I do it all the time now. Saying little things that make him squirm because Brandon’s so cute when he’s embarrassed.

“What?” I ask, not understanding this new expression on Brandon’s face.

“I think my gift might be … inappropriate right now,” he says with a half-smile.

“Did you get us matching butt plugs?” Kyle deadpans, lifting his cheek from my shoulder.

Brandon blushes. “No,” he mutters. But he’s grinning too.

I raise a brow. “Everyone’s distracted …”

He slides the silver, metallic gift bag toward me, and the Christmas-tree–patterned one toward Kyle.

I reach into mine and pull out a glittering Eiffel Tower keychain with a printed faux boarding pass attached.

My breath catches reading it.

Kyle and Brandon take Taylor to Paris for Christmas.

I look up. “Wait. Yeah?”

Their hands settle on my thighs—Kyle’s on my right, Brandon’s on my left—and I feel the electricity hum through all three of us.

We’ve had one night where all three of us have been together since Halloween, but it was softer, deeper.

Tame compared to our first night together.

This moment feels like something new again.

“Are we really going to Paris?” I whisper.

Brandon nods. “Whenever you can get away. But we were hoping to be there for Christmas.”

A spark lights up in my chest. Christmas in Paris. My busiest clients slow down then, and I’ll be onboarding three new clients in January. So it will be the perfect time to get away.

“I can make it work,” I say, beaming.

Kyle kisses my cheek. Brandon presses his lips to my neck. I feel like I’m suspended in a moment that belongs only to us. And absolutely not giving a fuck that two men’s lips are on me in public.

“Ménage à trois,” Kyle says with a wink.

I twirl the keychain in my fingers, already dreaming. The three of us beneath twinkling lights on the Seine. Waking up as middle spoon in a Paris hotel bed. Wearing these bracelets as we wander through bookstores and bakeries.

“If we’re taking the jet …” I lower my voice, “I don’t think we’ll make it to Paris before you both take me there.”

Brandon leans closer, amused. “Is that your way of asking for the jet?”

“Yes.”

“She’s spoiled,” Kyle teases, slipping an arm around my waist.

“Not as spoiled as you,” Brandon shoots back, pushing the last gift bag toward him.

Kyle peeks in and chuckles. “You’re naughty,” he says, then drops the item back in the bag.

“Let me see!” I say, eyes wide.

He slides the bag to me. Inside is a bottle of lube with the label: Be Nice to My Ass.

I gape, then burst out laughing. “Brandon!”

But underneath the laugh is pride. This means something. We’ve talked about it, joked about it—but Brandon wanted to wait until it felt right.

I slide a hand into each of theirs, squeezing gently. This is the kind of moment I used to think only existed in the books I read and the dreams I had. But life with the two of them exceeds all of my fantasies.