Page 44

A Throuple, If You Will

Harrison

“A little higher,” I instruct Daniel while teetering precariously on his shoulders. The muscles in his neck flex as he tilts his head back to peer up at me with a sly grin.

“You sure about that? Might be hard to keep my balance with you squirming around up there.” He punctuates his words by playfully pinching my ass. I yelp in surprise, nearly losing my grip on the banner.

“Watch it, mister,” I warn him. “Unless you want to be the one to explain to Esther why her birthday banner is crooked.”

Daniel chuckles, the sound rumbling through his body and into mine, making my dick twitch. “All right, all right. Hold still.”

He adjusts his stance, his strong hands gripping my thighs to steady me.

With a few more tugs and tweaks, the banner is finally in place, proclaiming “Happy Birthday, Esther!” in bold, colorful letters.

I take a moment to survey our handiwork and the transformation of the once-ordinary backyard into a party that would make Gatsby jealous.

Strings of twinkling lights crisscross overhead, emitting a warm glow over the evening scene.

Balloons in shades of pink and gold sway gently in the breeze, tied to the backs of rented folding chairs.

A long table draped in a white cloth stands ready to hold a feast, while a makeshift dance floor has been set up on the lawn.

I glance down at Daniel, my heart about to burst as I take in his handsome face.

“Looks good,” he says, nodding in approval at the banner. “Ready to come down?”

I nod, and Daniel squats, bracing his hands on his knees as I carefully slide off his shoulders. My feet slap the ground with a soft thud, and I wobble momentarily before finding my balance. Then, leaning forward, I cup his face in my hands. “I think I deserve a reward for all my hard work.”

Daniel’s grin turns wicked. “Is that so?”

He tilts his head and captures my lips in a passionate kiss that makes my toes curl in my shoes.

I lose myself in the feeling of his mouth moving against mine, the scrape of his stubble against my skin, the heat of his body seeping into me.

I never want it to end, but it does, as a pointed cough sounds from our left.

We break apart, flushed and breathless, to find Charlie smirking at us. “While I have no problem with this public display of affection, my parents want to keep the party rated E for everyone.”

“Speak for yourself,” says a voice I don’t recognize.

We turn around and find two teenage boys watching us with amused expressions.

“Liam!” Charlie’s face splits into a wide grin as he bounds over to the taller of the two—a lean kid with a swimmer’s build and a mop of sun-bleached hair.

He engulfs the boy in a bear hug. “Harrison, Daniel, this is my cousin,” he announces proudly, slinging an arm around Liam’s shoulders.

“He’s the best swimmer on the Bomont High School swim team. ”

“I don’t know about ‘the best,’” Liam mumbles, ducking his head to hide the pleased flush on his cheeks.

Charlie laughs and turns to the other boy, a stocky kid with close-cropped hair and a square jaw. “And this is Chet. He works part-time at the hardware store with Roy. ”

Chet nods at us, his expression guarded but not unfriendly. “Nice to meet you,” he says in a voice so deep I swear it’s coming from the earth’s core.

I step forward to shake their hands, feeling somewhat self-conscious about my disheveled appearance. “Likewise,” I say with a smile. “Thank you for coming to celebrate Esther’s birthday.”

Liam’s eyes light up at the mention of the party. “Are you kidding? We wouldn’t miss it for the world. Aunt Esther and Uncle Robert throw the best parties.”

Charlie chuckles, ruffling Liam’s hair. “That they do, kid. That they do.”

As if on cue, Esther’s voice rings out across the yard. “All right, everyone! It’s time for the birthday girl to make her grand entrance!”

A cheer goes up from the gathered crowd as she emerges from the house, resplendent in a flowing sundress and a wide-brimmed hat.

“Let’s get this party started!” someone declares. And with that, the festivities begin in earnest.

I haven’t been to a birthday party in years because my parents always insisted that they were a frivolous waste of time and money. Something that only the less fortunate engage in to make themselves feel special for a day. Anniversaries, on the other hand, they celebrate with gusto.

“Birthday parties are for poor people,” my mother would sniff dismissively whenever I dared to broach the subject as a child.

It sucked having to hear about the other kids’ birthday parties when mine were marked by quiet dinners at home, a perfunctory “Happy birthday” from my parents, and no presents.

Watching Daniel spin a blindfolded girl around before gently guiding her hand to the donkey, a pang of sadness strikes through my heart at all the parties I never experienced .

The little girl shrieks with delight as she manages to stick the tail somewhere near the donkey’s left ear. Daniel scoops her up into his arms, peppering her cheeks with exaggerated kisses until she dissolves into giggles.

“Good job, munchkin!” he praises, setting her back down and holding his hand out for a high five. “You’ll be a master at this in no time!”

She beams up at him, her missing front teeth only adding to the adorableness of her smile. “Thanks, Mr. Daniel!” she chirps before scampering off to join her friends.

Daniel catches my eye over the children’s heads and winks at me. I return his wink with a blush and a smile.

Charlie’s voice pulls my attention away from Daniel and his gaggle of pint-sized admirers. “Dad! Come on, hurry up! We’re getting restless over here!”

I glance over to see him bouncing on the balls of his feet, two plates clutched tightly in his hands, as Robert carefully slices into the massive cake.

The cake is a masterpiece—three tiers high and slathered in fluffy buttercream frosting, with delicate sugar roses cascading down the sides in an ombré of pinks and corals.

“I’m going as fast as I can, son,” Robert chuckles. “You can’t rush perfection.”

Charlie huffs out an impatient breath, but there’s a fondness in his eyes as he watches his father work. I smile at the sight of them together, the easy affection and good-natured ribbing vastly different from the stiff formality that characterized my family’s interactions over the years.

Finally, Robert slides two generous slices of cake onto Charlie’s waiting plates.

Charlie promptly spins on his heel, ready to make a beeline back to where I’m standing, but in his haste, he stumbles over his own bare feet. The plates tip precariously in his hands, and for a heart-stopping moment, I’m positive he’s going to slam right into the grass, taking our dessert with him.

But he manages to right himself at the last second. He flashes me a sheepish grin as he closes the distance between us, holding out one of the plates like a hard-won trophy. “Voilà! One slice of the most delicious birthday cake known to mankind, just for you.”

I accept the plate with a laugh. “My hero, risking life and limb to bring me sugar. However, will I repay you?”

Charlie waggles his eyebrows at me. “Oh, I’m sure we can think of something.”

My cheeks heat at the insinuation, and I shove a forkful of cake into his mouth before he can say anything else. Charlie’s eyes widen in surprise before fluttering closed as he lets out an obscene moan of pleasure.

“Holy shit,” he mumbles around the mouthful of cake. “That’s fucking amazing.”

After taking a bite for myself, I’m inclined to agree. The cake is moist and rich, with a hint of lemon that cuts through the sweetness of the frosting. We devour our slices in contented silence, enjoying every bite.

As we eat, I let my gaze roam over the party. Esther holds court at the center of a small group of her friends, waving her hands animatedly as she recounts a hilarious tale. I strain my ears to catch snippets of the conversation over the general hubbub of the party.

“…so there Roy was, thinking he could waltz up to Daisy and milk her like it was no big deal. But Daisy, she’s a clever old girl.

She let him get close enough, and then BAM!

” Esther smacks her hands together for emphasis, making her audience jump.

“Kicked him right in the family jewels! He was rolling around on the ground, moaning and clutching himself, while Daisy looked on, cool as a cucumber. She taught him a valuable lesson about respecting a lady’s personal space, that’s for sure! ”

I chuckle at the mental image of burly, no-nonsense Roy felled by a disgruntled dairy cow. Across the yard, I see the man himself, his face beet red as he tries to shush his cackling grandma. But there’s a barely there quirk to his lips that tells me he’s not as put out as he’s pretending to be.

I’m about to lean over and make a joke to Charlie when I notice him go stiff. He’s staring at something over my shoulder, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open in a comical expression of shock.

“Charlie?” I ask, concern lacing my voice. “What’s?—”

He makes a strangled noise, halfway between a gasp and a squeak, and scrambles to his feet, nearly upending the table in the process. I glance around to see who’s managed to elicit such a reaction out of him and find myself staring up at a mountain of a man.

He’s easily six-foot-five, with shoulders as broad as a barn door and biceps that strain against the sleeves of his polo shirt.

His square-jawed face is surprisingly wrinkle-free, and his eyes are bright and sharp.

Despite the youthfulness, there’s no mistaking the air of authority that clings to him.

“Coach Bryant,” Charlie stammers after a long, painful beat of silence. “What are you…I mean, how did you…why are you here?”

I wince at the bluntness of his question, but Coach Bryant simply throws his head back and laughs. “Now, is that how you greet your coach, son?”

He punctuates the question with a hearty fist bump to Charlie’s chest that nearly sends him stumbling into me. Charlie rights himself with a sheepish grin, his cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and delight.

“Sorry, Coach. You just surprised me, is all,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Well, when Roy called to see if it was okay for you to step away for the weekend, I figured it was high time for us all to take a break.”

As if on cue, a raucous cheer erupts from the side of the house, and the Ashford U Green Wolves spill into the yard with brightly wrapped gifts. They’re a pack of exuberant puppies, all broad grins and boisterous laughter.

Javi is the first to reach us, pulling Charlie into a bone-crushing hug. “Surprise, bro! Bet you didn’t see this coming!”

He pinches Charlie’s ass, and Charlie laughs, pushing Javi away. “You’re right about that. I had no idea, you guys!”

The rest of the team quickly surrounds Charlie in a whirlwind of backslaps, fist bumps, and good-natured ribbing. I hover on the edge, feeling out of place among it all. But then Daniel appears, joining the fray and taking me along with him.

“Yo, Charlie, who’s your friend?” Javi asks, appraising me from head to toe.

Before I can respond, Charlie and Daniel pipe up at the same time. “He’s our boyfriend.”

A collective gasp ripples through the group, including from Coach Bryant. I blush furiously under the sudden scrutiny, but Charlie and Daniel sling an arm around me, unfazed.

“Our boyfriend,” Charlie repeats, joyously and affectionately. “We’re all dating each other.”

“You’re all what, now?” Joe Bryce asks, his mouth hanging wide open.

“Dating. A throuple, if you will,” Charlie clarifies.

“A throuple?” Javi echoes, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Damn, you’ve been holding out on us! When did this happen?”

Charlie chuckles. “It’s a long story. But the short version is that we met on New Year’s Eve, and things sort of…clicked.”

“And you’re okay with this?” Coach Bryant asks Daniel, his expression unreadable. “Sharing your boyfriend with another man?”

Daniel meets his coach’s gaze steadily. “More than okay. We make each other happy.”

A beat of silence follows his declaration. I hold my breath, waiting for the final reaction. But then Javi lets out a whoop and claps Daniel on the back. “Well, all right then! Congrats, you three. ’Bout time you found someone who can keep up with the two of you.”

The tension breaks as the rest of the team chimes in with more congratulations and well wishes. Questions fly from all directions, some more appropriate than others.

“So, like, how does it work? Do you take turns or…?”

“Do you all live together? Is there a dating schedule?”

“Man, the stamina must be insane. Three dudes going at it? Damn.”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Coach Bryant’s booming voice cuts through the chatter. “Let’s give the lovebirds some breathing room, shall we? There’s plenty of food waiting to be eaten. Go on, get!”

The team disperses with good-natured grumbling, heading straight for the buffet table. Charlie and Daniel make to follow, but Coach Bryant stops them with a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Not so fast, you two,” he says, his tone serious. “We need to have a little chat.”

He steers them over to a quieter corner of the yard, and I trail behind, not sure if I’m meant to be included in this conversation. But when Coach Bryant gestures for me to join them, I hurry to comply.

“Listen, boys. I’m truly happy for you. Love is love.

But you’ve got to understand that not everyone out there is going to be as accepting as the folks in this backyard.

” He stares pointedly at Charlie. “Especially if you’re planning on going pro, son.

The spotlight on athletes these days is intense.

Every aspect of your life will be scrutinized.

Your relationships, your sexuality—it’ll all be fair game for the media and the public to dissect and judge. ”

Charlie’s face pales at his coach’s words, and he swallows hard. “I…I hadn’t thought about that,” he admits quietly. “Playing for the Yankees has been my dream since I could walk. But…”

He trails off, lost and uncertain. My heart aches for him. I reach out and take his hand in mine.

“You’re going to have a tough road ahead of you if you’re set on the majors,” Coach Bryant adds.

“But if this is truly what you want, then you fight for it. You prove all the naysayers wrong. You show them that your love and identity don’t define you as a player.

Your skill, your heart, your dedication—that’s what matters. ”

Charlie takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Yes, Coach. I understand.”

“Good.” Coach Bryant claps them on the back and flashes me a wink. “Now, let’s put this on the back burner and enjoy the rest of the night.”