Wild Like Us

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Wild Like Us Page 41

by Krista Ritchie


  “Last night,” I say. “It was fucking epic.”

  He laughs. “I’m glad. They didn’t hurt you?”

  I shake my head. “They weren’t…together. I mean they were together in the same room but not together in me. And sorry for the TMI.” I don’t even know why I apologize. Maybe because we haven’t been talking much lately, but sex isn’t an off-limits topic for us. Even if he’s super private about his sex life with most people, he’s shared with me.

  “I asked,” he says into a shrug. “I just want to make sure they’re not assholes to you.”

  “They’re not. You know I’d dick-kick them if they fucked with me.”

  He pops an orange M&M in his mouth. “Yeah, but I’d want to dick-kick them, too.”

  My smile falters for a second, and then a sweeping feeling surges through me. “A triad?”

  He takes a sip of his Fizz Life. “It doesn’t matter though, does it?” he asks me. “You said you already made a decision. Who did you choose anyway?”

  My stomach overturns. “No one.”

  “What?” he frowns.

  “I was going to just choose their friendship for them and walk away.”

  He gives me an iconic what the fuck face. “Now that is stupid.”

  “I didn’t know we could all be together!” I collapse backward on the fuzzy rug. “And what if they don’t want that option? A triad. What if it sounds too complicated and too difficult and too different?” I’m an American princess. If I profess to the world that I have two boyfriends, I’m going to be fodder. Maybe Akara and Banks won’t want to put me through that—even if I’d want it.

  Fuck, I want it.

  I want them.

  Both of them.

  “They may not want to do it,” Beckett says, honestly. “It’s not for everyone.”

  We talk more about the ins and outs of polyamorous relationships. Beckett gives me a crash course—and I ask if he’s been in one. No, only casually dating. But he’s had threesomes, which weren’t relationships. Just sex.

  This isn’t just sex.

  It’s why it’s hard.

  There are emotions and love…so much love involved. That inevitably, if we can’t all be together, there’s going to be pain.

  55

  BANKS MORETTI

  Our secret rendezvous point could have been warmer. I’m freezing my ballsac off. I zip up my cargo jacket and stuff my hands in the pockets. The top of a hill at Camp Calloway overlooks camp cabins, the canoe rack next to a glittering lake, and a bunch of trees. Endless seas of yellows, reds, and oranges in the November fall.

  Akara rocks on the balls of his feet and blows warm breath into his hands. He glances out at the road, and I hear a voice through my radio.

  “Gabe to Akara, I’m on the way with Sulli. Be there in about five.”

  “Copy,” Akara says into his mic.

  Our eyes latch. We haven’t spoken the unspoken words.

  One of us will be leaving this hill without her.

  “Have you told her you love her?” Akara asks me.

  I shake my head. “I didn’t want to do that to you.” It felt wrong to bring up my love for her when Akara’s been fighting to be with her too. Like playing a winning hand in the middle of a game. And this isn’t a game to me. My feelings for her are clearer than the skies today. They’ve been clear for a while now. I ask him, “Did you tell her?”

  “Truthfully, I wanted to tell her without you there, but it never felt right. And it didn’t feel right with you there either. Like either way I’d be hurting a friend.”

  I nod repeatedly. “So we’re both dumbasses.”

  He tilts his head, smiling. “Basically.”

  “Do you think we should tell her?” I kick some pebbles on the ground. “At least then whoever she doesn’t pick can rest easy knowing they did and said all they could.”

  Akara nods slowly.

  My chest tightens. I can’t shut up about this. He needs to hear it now, not after. “And if it’s you, I’m going to have to ask for some sort of reassignment—”

  “Stop.” He grimaces.

  “I can’t watch you be with her, Akara,” I say, hurt already compounding against my ribcage.

  His eyes are bloodshot, fighting something back. “You watched me be with her last night.”

  “That was different. I was with her, too.” I let out a frustrated breath. “And I don’t know why you’re giving me a hard time. You’re going to quit her detail, if she chooses me.” I hate that outcome too. I hate not having him as a friend.

  “Yeah, I will,” he says. “But maybe I like the scenario where I keep the girl and I keep you. Fucking sue me, I’m greedy.”

  I smack his chest. “I think you get sued enough, man. I don’t need to add to it.”

  He laughs. “Shit, I can’t believe you’re making me laugh.” His humor fades and the air sobers for a moment. “Either way, we lose each other, don’t we?”

  I fit a toothpick between my lips. “She’s worth it.”

  Akara nods. “Yeah, she always has been.”

  Tires crunch gravel, and we both turn to watch the security vehicle drive down the road. The SUV parks near ours. Sulli hops out, waves to Gabe, and the car heads back to where it came.

  She blows out a breath. Her hair billows in the wind and she hugs her arms to her chest. I want to bring her into my body, warm her, but Akara and I are rooted in place.

  “Sulli—” Akara starts.

  “Before you two say anything,” she interjects and holds up a hand. “I want you to know that the time I spent with both of you in Yellowstone has been undeniably some of the best times of my life. And whatever happens after today, just know I love you both.” Those words rush through me.

  I glance to Akara. Is he going to say it first?

  He looks to me. Waiting.

  She smiles. “Oh hey, I know you both love me, and I love that you care about each other enough to not hurt one another by saying it.” She eyes me. “So I’m officially the second girl you’ve ever fallen in love with, huh, Banks?” She says it very fucking proudly.

  Hate to ruin her good time. But I’m grinning like a fucking fool.

  Her smile fades. “What?”

  “You’re not the second, Sulli.”

  Her fingers touch her lips, confused. “Wait, but you said you’ve been in love once before.”

  “Yeah.” I nod strongly. “With you, mermaid.”

  “All the way back then?” The realization chokes her up for more than a second.

  I nod, but I don’t want to say anything else. This isn’t a hand I’m playing. It’s just the truth, but I can feel Akara’s tense energy beside me.

  She looks between us. “I care about you two too much to drag this out any longer. That’s why my decision was already made this morning.” She exhales before she says, “I was going to choose your friendship.”

  Was. Past tense.

  My blood ices over. I don’t know whether to be fucking destroyed or overjoyed by this news.

  I bite on my toothpick. “So in that scenario, we both watch you be with some other guy?” I wonder.

  She shrugs. “Or I could stay single forever. Who knows?”

  “I don’t like it,” I say gruffly.

  “Neither do I.” Akara tugs on his beanie and nods at her. “What’s the new verdict, string bean?”

  She puts her fingers to her lips. “It’s…unconventional. I didn’t even think it was an option until I talked to Beckett today.” She drops her hand. “Would you both want to be in a relationship with me…together? A triad. A closed triad.”

  It’s like she’s speaking in Spanish—which she’s fluent in and I’m definitely not. “I don’t know what any of those words mean,” I say and glance to Akara.

  Akara shakes his head. “No clue.”

  Sulli looks over her shoulder at the road. “Fuck, I should have brought the M&M’s.” Don’t know what that’s about either. She lets out a frustrated brea
th. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at this or at words.”

  “It’s okay, Sul,” Akara says. “We’re listening.”

  “You have all my attention, mermaid.”

  She smiles softly. “Alright, so basically, we’d be in a relationship. Like what we did in Yellowstone. Only there’s no end date that we’d have to worry about. No choice that has to be fucking made. We’re all just…together.”

  I’ve got a lotta questions, but I’m not the logistics guy. Mostly, all I hear is we’re all just together.

  My mouth curves in a smile that Sulli hangs onto.

  I go where the wind blows me.

  It’s sent me here.

  To Akara. To Sulli. To home and love.

  I’m ready to be rooted down, and this doesn’t feel like a consolation prize, having him here too. It feels like I’ve won it all.

  My best friend.

  And her.

  I glance to Akara, hoping he’ll feel the same. But I see more questions in his eyes. And unlike me—he is that logistics guy.

  56

  AKARA KITSUWON

  “I’m in.” Banks barely hesitates. I didn’t think he would.

  They both look to me for my answer. I could back out, and if I do, I lose her. But I’m more scared of losing this. The ability to have what we had in Yellowstone. That’s like a dream. And I’d think I’m stuck in one, but it’s not snowing.

  This is real.

  “Slow down,” I hold out a hand. “How does this even work?”

  “I can explain everything,” Sulli says, “But mostly, we get to choose our relationship. We define the boundaries. No one else.” She grins. “Wild, right?”

  Banks smiles.

  I try hard not to feed off their excited energy, but I can feel my lips already rising. “This might not work,” I say realistically. “I mean, what do we even call each other?”

  She touches a hand to my chest. “You’re my boyfriend.” She puts a hand on Banks’. “You’re also my boyfriend.”

  I narrow my eyes at Banks. “Does that make you my boyfriend?”

  Sulli smiles. “Not unless you like that term with each other,” she says. “If you’re not romantically involved, it’s like a V-triad, I think that’s what Beckett said. It’s not a triangle, and in a V, I’m the hinge between you two. You can call each other metamours. Closer than a friend but not quite a boyfriend.”

  Metamour.

  Banks is my metamour.

  Strange, but interesting. I’ve literally never heard that word until today, and it sounds like something from a fantasy novel, not real life. I’m tempted to open my phone and look up metamour. But then again, Sulli said we should define our relationship.

  We could call each other Pop-Tarts for all it matters.

  Shit, I’m already confirming this in my head like it’s real. Like I want this.

  Because you do, Nine.

  I breathe in deeply.

  The pain I’ve felt this entire trip has been from the idea of losing one of them. Banks or Sulli. This outcome has the least amount of pain, but it’s also going to be the hardest for her. I don’t want to burst her happy bubble, but I need to make sure this is everything she wants.

  “Sul,” I say. “I can’t be your boyfriend in secret.”

  Hurt crosses her face. “You wouldn’t be.” She looks to Banks. “Neither would you. I would tell everyone that I’m proudly in a poly relationship. And even though I learned what that is this morning, it doesn’t change my feelings for both of you that have existed far fucking before it.”

  “The media—”

  “Fuck the media,” Sulli says.

  “Sulli,” Banks interjects. “Akara is right. You have to just give it a second thought. This won’t be your normal bout of attention. It’s going to drive a lot of focus onto your life.”

  She swallows hard. “And I know it’s going to be tough. The media cannibalized my dad for dating my mom, just because of their age difference, and my dad has always been unapologetic in his love for her. They stayed together, despite the headlines, the lies, the rumors—they never let the media tell them who to love or what to do with their lives.” Her eyes well up with conviction in her voice. “I wouldn’t be a Meadows if I didn’t unapologetically go at life at a hundred-and-fifty-miles per hour. No brakes.” She exhales, “I’m tired of playing it safe.”

  Sulli is wrong.

  She is really good with words. Those ones wash over me like a euphoric cleansing. Before I can speak, she adds, “And the other option is losing each other, and that sounds infinitely worse. I’ll take tough over lonely. Any day of the week.”

  Wind picks up harder. To block the gusts, we close the distance between each other. A huddle forming. “If the three of us are going to be in a relationship,” I say—which causes both of them to smile wide. I roll my eyes. “—then we have to agree to something.”

  “Anything,” Sulli says and clasps my hand.

  Banks puts a hand on my shoulder.

  Strength pools within me. Love surrounds me. For how much I lost in my life, I’ve gained everything today.

  “We don’t make this into some big announcement,” I tell them. “If someone asks, we be upfront about it. We feel the moment.”

  “Feel the moment,” Sulli nods, squeezing my hand.

  “Feel the moment,” Banks agrees.

  Feel the moment.

  57

  SULLIVAN MEADOWS

  Three hours outside Philly, I climb with my dad. He didn’t tell me why we needed to climb this route at the quarry, but he said meet me fucking there.

  So I’m here. But my dad is nowhere to be found. Now I start to wonder if this has to do with the cougar attack. I rehashed the story to my parents yesterday after Booger arrived—safe and sound—back in Philly. There were tears, very long hugs, and a general happiness that I’m alive. My bodyguards are alive.

  No one was left behind.

  Maybe this is actually a safety lesson. He’s about to sneak up on me like a cougar. I glance over my shoulder. Nope, don’t fucking see him anywhere.

  I walk along the base of the flat limestone. Akara and Banks trail behind but there’s some security issue back in Philly that they’re whispering about. Today could have been a different outcome. Alone.

  Lonely.

  Instead, I have boyfriends.

  My boyfriends.

  I’m smiling when I press the phone to my ear. The line clicks. “Hey, where are you?” I ask my dad.

  “Look up.”

  120-feet in the air, my dad is sitting at the top of the rock, his legs dangling over the crag.

  “I thought you wanted to climb together?” I frown, confused.

  “Meet me up here.”

  “But I’ve already free-soloed this one a bunch.” Winona and I would practice at this quarry all the time. It’s one of the easier rock faces.

  “This will be different,” my dad tells me. “I fucking promise.”

  He’s right. Everything is different about this free-solo climb. I’m stronger after weeks of training on a harder rock face. But that’s not why I move in breathless, light strides. It feels automatic, like I’m here but not here. I just go.

  On the hardest portion of the rock, I’m supporting myself with just two fingers. My feet find good leverage in a crack, and then I continue on. The last ten feet is a breeze.

  I’m barely breaking a sweat by the time I hike a leg over the edge and find firm solid ground again. I don’t move from my knees, and the intensity of those one-hundred-and-twenty feet just annihilates me. Because I look up and I see him.

  My dad. Scruffy, weather-beaten face. Hardened jaw and eyes, the most loving dad I could’ve ever asked for.

  The person I’ve wanted to connect to all this time. He’s on his feet now and watches me with this heavy understanding.

  I sit. “Why did that feel so different?” I ask him.

  He squats down beside me. “This has always been my favorite rock to f
ucking climb.” He takes a beat. “Because I would climb it with Adam Sully. I’d meet him at the top.” He puts a hand on my knee. “Climbing can be lonely, Sul. The best climbs aren’t.”

  My chest rises in a deeper inhale. I hated the climb in Yellowstone, but I loved this. I needed this. “Thanks,” I tell him. “It feels complete now.”

  He touches the top of my head. “No more climbing my routes?” The joy in his voice is palpable.

  I laugh. “Don’t sound too upset.”

  “I just want you to be happy, Sulli,” he says. “That’s all I’ve ever fucking wanted since you were born.”

  I think about how different my life is from when I left. He hasn’t exactly asked about my love life, and parts of me just wish he would, so I can tell him. Even though his reaction is the one I fear the most. His approval means everything to me, especially when I know I’m going to combat a lot of harsher judgment from the world.

  I want to believe he’d like Akara and Banks with me, but I can’t know for certain. I’m still his daughter, and he’s still fiercely fucking protective. He might flip his shit if he knows I’m with not one but two bodyguards.

  I end up saying the truth. Even if it’s not all of it.

  “I am happy. Really fucking happy.”

  We hug.

  And then we descend.

  Once back on the ground, we remove our rappelling gear and Akara and Banks approach from their spots. My dad carefully winds up a rope.

  “Sir,” Banks says easily.

  “Hi, Banks,” he nods, friendly enough. “Akara.”

  “Hey,” Akara says.

  A weird silence stretches, and my dad frowns for a second, eyeing us. He can sense something’s off. Because it definitely is. I want to lean into Banks’ chest. I want to grab Akara’s hand. And each second the three of us are here alone with my dad, it feels like I’m keeping a lie.

  Feel the moment.

  I’ve got this.

  “Dad,” I say. “I have something to tell you.”

  I edge closer to Akara and Banks until I’m standing between my dad and my boyfriends like a referee in a coin toss.

 

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