Always Three: A MMM Menage Coming Out of the Closet Romance (The Always Series Book 7)

by J. P. James

Ricky looks between Jordan and Jameson, something akin to admiration in his eyes. He smiles weakly, and then shifts his gaze to us.

  “You’re cousins are cool,” he says lamely.

  It’s such a simple, innocuous statement that I’m the first to laugh. Of course, after such a profound statement, Ricky seems impressed to the point of dumbstruck.

  “Hayden and Hudson are cool too,” Jordan chimes in. “The whole station respects their work ethic and their character. They’re as good as they get.”

  Ricky doesn’t take his eyes off us as Jordan talks, and when Jordan finishes, Ricky stands abruptly.

  “I want to see more,” he states, holding his hands out for us.

  We grab each hand and he lifts us off the couch. He lets go, but not without a firm squeeze before his touch drops away. Jordan and Jameson are on their feet as well, arms open wide for Ricky.

  “Hey, let us know if this is out of line,” Jordan says when Ricky pulls out of his embrace, “Maybe Fyre would be interested in meeting you. It could be a formal agency meeting, or you could come over sometime for dinner. Whatever you’re comfortable doing.”

  Ricky launches himself into Jameson’s hug, grinning ear-to-ear at Jordan. “Really? That would be amazing. I’d be so grateful just to pick his brain a little.”

  Jameson chuckles as he lets Ricky go. “As clones, we love to pick brains. We’re like a cross between a zombie and an alien.”

  Ricky huffs, and rolls his eyes as we hug cousins in turn.

  “You guys are definitely related. You have a same humor,” Ricky tells us.

  Jordan and Jameson’s eyes darken slightly. They look at one another, and then Jordan speaks.

  “There’s a paint night that our other cousins put on in the city. It benefits the LGBT center. We’ve been trying to get Hayden and Hudson to model for it but they keep deflecting. If they posed, would you go?” Jordan smirks. They both watch as Ricky’s face reddens, reduced to the color of beet juice.

  “Alright, enough,” Hayden stops them, putting a hand to Ricky’s lower back as we step away.

  I fix Jameson with a death glare, but the kind that also tells him he’s right. If Ricky were there, watching us in all our glory, I’d have no problem dropping-trou for the cause.

  12

  Ricky

  “Do you remember this place?” Hudson asks.

  We stop in front of a dilapidated building, and I assume he’s asking about this place. I squint up at the apartments above, and let my eyes travel down the chipped paint and rusted metalwork. They pause again on the diner below, just in front of us now. It’s as outdated as the building. The sign hasn’t changed in the last ten years, which is about 200 years by city standards. It smells good, which is the only sign that there have been any renovations in the last century. I see a woman taking orders inside. She’s probably been a waitress her whole life and her family will bury her body behind the fryer.

  Suddenly, another well-worn memory floods my brain.

  Of course. It hits me like a stack of day-old pancakes. I definitely remember this diner.

  “You puked in that corner booth the night we snuck out and saw that punk band in Chelsea,” I laugh.

  “I think their name was Heliotrope,” Hudson comments, wincing a bit with the memory.

  My nose fills with the old smell of this place, a combination of rancid oil, sweat, and sugar. We ordered pancakes and bacon because we were drunk and needed to sober up before we headed home. I don’t think Hudson made it three bites into his stack before he retched. I haven’t been to this diner since, but that the memory burned itself into my psyche forever.

  “We don’t have to eat here if you don’t want to,” Hayden promises, “but the inside has been updated. I’m sure they cleaned the puke up too.”

  He winks and it nearly sends me into a tailspin, a wonderful, dreamy tailspin, but deadly all the same. My heart thuds in my chest, slamming against my ribs like it wants to remind me how fragile my body is. How does such a simple gesture almost give me a stroke?

  We step inside. Just as I suspected, the ancient woman sits us in the same booth. They reupholstered, thank god. She brings us a round of waters and coffee, before she leaves us with the menus.

  “It was your idea to come here,” Hudson chimes. “After the show.”

  I nod, unable to contain a grin. “I love diners. It’s one of my favorite things about the city. They’re everywhere, and they welcome all walks of life. Diners are my church,” I muse.

  The pair snorts and then they glance back at their menus. I inspect mine too, but I have a few diner favorites. Once I spot the mushroom burger, I set it down and fix my gaze on the two charmers across from me. They’re better looking than any menu item, and I get to have them for free.

  “I never understood your love of diners,” Hayden says. “There’s different forms of grease, that’s it.”

  “Different forms of comfort,” I correct him.

  He glares back at me, but it softens the next moment.

  “You can get comfort food at any time, day or night, for a reasonable price. Who cares if the tuna melt talks back, it’s a bargain,” I claim.

  They both laugh, and the sound is like baby angels playing in the clouds.

  “I guess diners are a reason I love the city too. Although, I love them because you can get whatever you want, be it illicit drugs or a puppy,” Hudson says sarcastically.

  I make a face, but shrug. “To each their own. You like things on the wild side, while I want to relax and unwind.”

  Hudson snorts louder this time, setting his menu down too.

  “You’re an old man at heart,” he tells me.

  I think about it, and then my smile widens. “If I can be half the man Bucky is, I can die happy.”

  They nod their agreement, and we cheers with our mugs as we drink. I must have been a little too eager, because I manage to splash coffee out of the cup and all over my side of the table. I reach for the entire container of napkins and sop up the mess the best I can.

  “Did I mention free coffee refills?” I say to save face. “I know it is standard a lot of places, but there’s no convincing me diners aren’t closer to heaven than other restaurants. But I could use a refill right about now.”

  Hudson and Hayden both eye me, and the look does something crazy to my stomach. My insides do backflips as I take in their gaze. The way they stare at me sends electricity through my veins.

  I feel my cheeks flush, so I grab my water and start gulping. “What? Is it something I said?”

  I feel a foot come to rest next to mine, rubbing idling as Hayden clears his throat.

  “It’s everything you say. For someone who doesn’t talk much, I can’t get enough of it. You’re funny, and honest, and sometimes awkward, but always charming,” he claims.

  Hudson nods, and takes my hand in his above the table. He rubs my knuckles, and I close my eyes to really feel his rough fingertips against my skin.

  The waitress clears her throat above us. My eyes fly open, and I try to jerk my arm back but Hudson won’t let go. He fixes me with in intense gaze. His hand stays locked around mine.

  “What’ll it be?” She asks, staring at our clasped hands.

  “Cobb salad for me,” Hayden responds.

  “Sirloin steak for me, medium,” Hudson says and he continues to rub my hand.

  The woman shifts her gaze to me. She’s cold, and she clearly doesn’t approve of whatever the handholding means.

  “Mushroom burger, medium, side of fries,” I say briskly.

  She doesn’t ask us if we want drinks. She just turns on a dime and stomps to the back of the restaurant.

  Hudson releases his grip on my hand, enough that I can pull it back freely.

  “Screw whatever she thinks,” he says under his breath. “Be free to be yourself.”

  He takes another sip of his coffee. I note his jaw flex and clench, probably in an attempt to not shout at our homophobic waitress. My heart stut
ters again, but I ignore it with another gulp of water.

  “We came to the city after high school to get away from people like her,” Hayden says quietly.

  I nod. I take my hand away from Hudson, and fist into a tiny ball at my side. “Whittaker was never really gay-friendly. Barely-tolerant? Maybe. Friendly? No way.”

  They nod, and then turn towards the window. I follow them, and we enjoy the bustling street for a few quiet moments.

  “There were a few times our senior year,” Hudson says absently, still staring out the window, “Hayden and I found conversion brochures in our lockers. It’d happen after every winning game.”

  I whip my head to them, but neither looks me in the eye. It isn’t until I bang my fist on the table that they look back.

  “Are you kidding? Not only were you normal goddamn people, you were state champions! Even for bigots, doesn’t that count for something?” I hiss.

  The waitress rounds the corner with our food, and I stay calm long enough to not punch her for being an innocent bystander. She drops everything unceremoniously on the table, and stomps back into her hobbit hole.

  “You were skilled athletes, and you were still treated like shit,” I say, trying to wrap my head around it.

  They eating without another word or gesture that says they agree, but they don’t need to.

  “I heard people gossiping in the halls sometimes,” I say between mouthfuls of French fries. “Whittaker is all about gossip. People say whatever they want behind your back. Assholes.”

  Hayden and Hudson look at one another, smile, and finally turn back to me.

  “You should eat. No use letting them ruin your appetite seven years later,” Hayden says.

  I grab my burger, and glare at it. I put all my anger into the first bite, taking almost a quarter of the enormous meal in my mouth. Hayden and Hudson stare wide-eyed as I chew vigorously.

  “You have a big mouth,” Hudson comments.

  They both clear their throats, watching as I swallow the first bite.

  Another wave of heat courses through my insides, but this time it feels more powerful. I feel like I have the twins under my spell. This kind of power feels magnificent.

  “Get your heads out of the gutter,” I warn them, but then I take another enormous bite. They watch my lips spread and I clearly see when their brains stop working. “What’s wrong? Lose your appetite?”

  “Not even close,” Hudson almost moans, cutting his steak into tiny pieces to distract himself.

  I’m glad I’m not the only one that feels overcome with desire. As much as I want Hayden and Hudson, I never think anyone really wants me in return. Apparently, I’m way off base.

  Hayden finishes a forkful of his salad before he talks. “We may have been the school’s golden boys, but I never felt like I could be 100% myself. I could be gay, but I couldn’t be vulnerable, you know? I didn’t think it was safe enough for that.”

  I watch Hayden for a minute as he picks into his salad. When he brings his head up, his eyes are shining.

  “You guys can be vulnerable around me,” I say quickly. “I hope that goes without saying, but well, here I am, saying it. Let me protect you too.”

  It sounds cheesy now that it’s out there, but Hudson grabs my hand again and doesn’t let go.

  “Thank you. We hid it from you because we thought you were going through your own shit. Suffering alone takes its toll. That’s why we moved as soon as we graduated. We wanted to date and not hear people whispering behind us,” Hudson tells me.

  Hayden inhales and exhales deeply, and puts his hand on both of ours. “We knew then, that we wanted to try dating the same guy. It’s still not normal here, but at least it isn’t so shocking.”

  I feel Hayden and Hudson’s hand tighten around mine, like their sending strength and love through the link. I nod, and turn my palm over to link my hand with Hudson’s. I brush my fingers against Hayden’s too, feeling the weight of both their hands on mine.

  “We’ve been close since we were kids. I knew you preferred threesomes even then. It’s a good thing we’re all out of that small-minded town,” I say soothingly.

  Hayden takes his hand away first, and then Hudson, reaching for their forks and knives. I take another bite of my burger, smaller this time to not distract them, when another question tumbles through my head. I put the burger down and clear my throat with coffee.

  “How was the breakup with Danny?” I ask quietly.

  We haven’t really talked about it, even with everything that’s happened between us. I know it’s been hard on them. I haven’t wanted to pry until now, but I can’t stop this feeling like I want to know. I want to know them, all of them. I want to share their ups and downs, the good and the bad.

  They sigh and slump against their seats.

  “Danny is a douchebag,” Hudson growls.

  Hayden looks at him, then back at me. “He’s been backpacking the world, posting his adventures on Instagram. I can’t bring myself to block him or delete him, but sometimes it hurts.”

  Hudson nods and gives a weak, “It is what it is,” before he chomps into his steak again.

  I chew another French fry, thinking about the pictures I’ve seen of him, plus how Hayden and Hudson described him.

  “He was handsome, for sure, but he’s nothing compared to you guys,” I tell them simply.

  They smile, looking up at me with the warm eyes I’ve grown used to over the past seven days. These eyes might be the death of me.

  Hayden blinks, and then his eyes widen as he reaches for Hudson’s shoulder.

  “What?” Hudson asks.

  Hayden nods my direction. “Do you know who Danny looks like?”

  Hudson turns to me, and his eyes widen too.

  I look behind me, at the restaurant full of…nothing. It’s basically just us, so I turn back around and their mouths are hanging open slightly as they stare at me.

  “You think Danny looks like me?” I question.

  “Why didn’t I notice it before,” Hayden cries, shaking his head.

  Hudson laughs, grabbing another piece of meat and chewing it animatedly. “We could have saved us a lot of trouble. If only we’d hooked up with you sooner,” he drawls.

  I feel a tiny bit affronted, not wanting to be compared to the guy that broke their hearts, but something spirited takes over. I lean over the table, bringing my voice down an octave.

  “Everyone here has a broken heart. What can we do to make it better?” I ask, watching the sparks of desire flame in their eyes.

  13

  Hayden

  “You know, Ricky,” Hudson barks as he dodges my saber, “this isn’t what I thought you had in mind.”

  He pulls back and pivots. He then lunges forward, his epee striking Ricky’s foil. Ricky’s quick though, and ducks out of the way before the blunt tip touches his torso. I break out in another fit of laughter, but keep myself on guard as the two spar.

  “What did you think was going to happen? Sex?” I joke, laughing while I jump out of arm’s length from both brothers.

  They back into their respective corners, while I catch my breath near the kitchen. As soon as we left the diner, the only thing Ricky wanted to do was spar. Of course, I had other things on my mind. Once we got our swords out though, I felt the rush of adrenaline I used to crave when we were kids.

  “We’re rusty,” Ricky says through heavy breaths.

  Hudson cocks his head, his eyes squinting at Ricky. “Coming from you? You’re much better than we are. Which academy do you go to?”

  Ricky shakes his head. “None. I haven’t been since my freshman year. I take my sword out now and again for fun.”

  He lunges forward into nothing, piercing an invisible enemy with all his might. I watch his thighs flex and relax. The muscles push and pull under his pants, and I have to convince myself to look at anything but the swelling motion.

  “Eyes up here, hornball,” Ricky spits at me.

  I look up in time
to catch the wink he throws my direction. I lick my lips, feeling my cock jump against my boxers. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.

  I do the only thing I can. I attack.

  My feet glide across the floor as I move around the couch. Ricky backs up towards the other wall, closing the distance with Hudson. Hudson braces himself to, waiting to see which of us will be his next opponent. I strike first, aiming for Ricky’s leg. He blocks it perfectly, his foil tapping me across my leg as he blocks the attack.

  “Gotcha,” he teases, and then he whips around and taps Hudson on his chest before he knows what’s happened.

  “We’re worse than I thought,” Hudson laughs, running and jumping onto the couch, his weapon at the ready.

  We’ve been at this for a while now, but I’m having so much I barely notice the time fly. Don’t get me wrong, I want to throw the swords aside and rip off Ricky’s clothes, but I don’t feel the frantic rush that consumed us the other night. This isn’t about getting each other off, but building our relationship back up. We’re getting to know each other again, remembering who we were versus who we are now.

  Ricky’s cellphone cuts the dreamlike haze in the room. He wipes the sweat from his forehead and grabs his phone off the coffee table, refusing to put the foil down. It has me smiling brightly at the sight.

  “Hello?” He asks, pacing towards the kitchen.

  Hudson and I take the moment to throw ourselves onto the couch. Hudson clutches at his chest as it rises and falls.

  “Seriously, we’re emergency personnel. We shouldn’t be this out of shape over an amateur swordfight,” he groans.

  I shake my head, feeling the adrenaline like another wave of energy through my limbs.

  “When you can’t swordfight for a year, you lose it,” I remind him.

  I get up, and turn to face him. He looks back at me, his eyes unfocused. He’s remembering the threats Danny made, and how we let them control us. I know he is because that’s what my mind goes to too.

  I look back at the kitchen and see Ricky gesture wildly as he talks. Ricky and Danny may look alike, but fuck if they aren’t completely different people. Ricky doesn’t just let us be ourselves, but encourages us to explore. He wants us to be the versions of ourselves, like we want the same for him. We treat each other’s like equals. My heart grows a sizer larger, filling with thoughts Ricky and where this might lead.