by Jayne Rylon
He turned and met her on the walkway, scooping the tray from her and carrying it the rest of the way. “Damn, Devra. This smells even better than yesterday’s lunch.”
“Thanks.” She didn’t smile when she said it.
“Everything okay?” he asked as he opened the door and held it for her to enter first.
She seemed reluctant to join him, looking into the garage for her husband. “Yes. Where’s Trevon?”
“Working.” Quinn rolled his eyes. “His boss must be a total asshole.”
Devra did look up then, shaking her head. “He’s definitely not. It must be important, though, or Trevon would be in here, spending time with you.”
“You mean eating this amazing food, right?” Quinn was kidding around. He snagged a plate and some silverware from the cabinet and dug in. “What is this?” He pointed to a plate stacked with triangles of fried dough.
“Potato and cheese sambusa,” she said, her voice devoid of its usual sparkle.
He had to do something drastic to make her laugh, or crack a smile, something. This side of her was one he didn’t know and it sort of alarmed him. Quinn plucked one up, popped it in his mouth whole, and groaned in genuine delight as the flavors of onions, cilantro, and a familiar custom spice mix he’d learned she called hawaij, burst over his tongue. “Devra, these are so fucking good I could kiss you.”
Her gaze flicked to his barely long enough for him to realize how panicked her eyes were before returning to the ground.
What. The. Fuck.
Had he overstepped? Made her uncomfortable because Trevon wasn’t around? Or maybe because she was more conservative and innocent than most people he knew? Before he could figure it out, she bolted.
“I’d better go. I’ll come back later for the dishes.” She was already several steps away when he had an idea.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll wash them and return them to you this evening. It’s the least I can do.” Quinn had also bought a bunch of groceries he planned to haul across the yard with the dishes. He was eating enough for three people. Didn’t seem right for her and Trevon to pay for it all and do the work of preparing and serving it, too.
“Maybe it’d be better if I send Trevon over to get them.” She wrung her hands and said, “He likes spending time with you. You two should do guy stuff after work, you know? Without me.”
Uhhhh. Quinn wasn’t sure what was going on, but he could tell he was missing something. “Um, okay. But you’re welcome to hang out with us, too.”
“I think he needs more time alone. Or, away from me, I guess. Maybe I’ll go to Hot Rods and see what the ladies are up to while you two work on Pop’s bike or do…whatever. I’ll make sure I call before I come back.”
“Okay, Devra. Whatever you want. I know the Hot Rods would be happy to have you over.” Quinn scratched his jaw, puzzled.
“Of course.” She didn’t say you’re welcome. “Enjoy.”
She turned to go as Trevon was coming through the door. When their chests might have touched in the close quarters, she swerved in a move worthy of a contortionist to avoid coming in contact with her husband.
“You sure you don’t want to eat with us?” Trevon asked her, putting out a hand to keep her from crashing into the wall after her drastic maneuver.
“Positive.” She dodged that, too, then spun on her heel and marched away, head down.
“What’s up with her?” Quinn asked Trevon.
Trevon shrugged. “I’m not sure. She’s been acting super weird since she got back from the spa with the Hot Rods ladies last night. What the hell happened there? I assumed they were going to do girly stuff and bitch about their husbands or some shit.”
“Oh fuck.” Quinn threw down his fork. Delicious food stuck in his throat. Trevon was right. That’s probably exactly what they had done. “There are some things you should know…”
He probably should have briefed Trevon about his friends but they’d gotten so busy talking about heavy subjects and after that, they’d chased away the negative energy by working on the Indian. To Quinn, the Hot Rods and their unconventional relationships were normal. He hadn’t thought about how uncomfortable it might make someone with Devra’s upbringing to be around them.
“They’re not like serial killers or something, right?” Trevon rocked back in his chair without putting a morsel on his plate. He locked his fingers over his stomach as if it hurt. “What the hell is going on?”
“They’re amazing people.” Quinn promised. “You know how Devra says you saved her life, well, they saved mine. It’s just that they’re…uh…”
“What?” Trevon asked.
“Polyamorous.” Quinn still felt defensive and apprehensive telling someone new about their lifestyle. Because what if Trevon judged them? Then he’d be judging Quinn, too, without even knowing it.
“They’re married, though, right?” Trevon narrowed his eyes. He did say he’d seen a few episodes of the Hot Rods reality show. Of course, the network didn’t exactly air orgies, but…
“Yes, they are. They also share an incredible bond as a group. Well, in a lot of different ways. Mustang Sally is married to Alanso, but Eli is their partner as well. They’re a triad. And they and the other couples sometimes party together, if you know what I mean.” Quinn wanted Trevon to understand it wasn’t only about sex. “They had rough lives. And they came to rely on each other. Love each other. The things they enjoy also make them feel…”
“Whole. Part of something. Secure.” Trevon nodded. “I could see that. Fuck. That sounds…”
Quinn prayed he didn’t say something like disgusting, fucked up, or immoral next.
“Hot as hell.” He swiped his hand over his face as if it really had gotten twenty degrees warmer in there. “Can I ask…Sally, Eli, and Alanso. How does that work? Does she have two men or are they also—”
“Lovers?” Quinn supplied.
Trevon nodded. “Yeah, that.”
“Oh, definitely.” He figured it was time to come clean. Hell, he knew Trevon had a thing for men. Maybe he wanted the best of both worlds, too. “They love Sally and they get off on driving her wild, but there’s also something between them. Something really powerful.”
“Why are you saying it like that?” Trevon wondered. “Like it hurts you.”
“Because they make me jealous. I love the idea of what they have. I’m bisexual and I enjoy having two partners, a man and a woman. If I could find my own relationship like theirs I’d consider myself the luckiest man alive.”
There. He’d admitted it. And he couldn’t take it back. Didn’t even want to.
Trevon stood up so fast, his chair scraped against the concrete loud enough to make them both jump. “I better go see if Devra’s okay.”
Quinn wasn’t trying to be a perv, but he couldn’t help but notice the giant bulge in Trevon’s jumpsuit. It was right there, at eye level. He gripped the table as hard as he could to keep from lunging across it and ripping down the zipper to see it and suck it without those layers of bulky canvas and denim in between them.
“Yeah. Yeah, you should.” Quinn needed a few minutes to himself, too.
He watched Trevon run down the driveway toward their tiny homes, then went into the garage and flipped the sign from Open to Closed. He trudged back into the break room and piled his plate high with Devra’s exceptional food.
Damn if he would let her efforts go to waste. Besides, in some weird way, consuming the meal she’d cooked made him feel closer to her, warmed from the inside out.
Hopefully she wouldn’t be so cold next time they ran into one another.
If she was—or worse, if Trevon took her and left Hot Rides for good—Quinn would be crushed.
14
Trevon crashed through the door, then froze when he saw Devra braced against the kitchen counter on straight-locked arms. Her head was bowed, her hair curtaining her face. But her sobs were plain despite the fact that he couldn’t see the tears falling from her beautiful eyes
.
Even when they’d gotten the news of her father’s demise, he hadn’t seen her break down like this. She’d wept, of course, but had been more stoic and almost resigned. This was…pure panic and heartbreak. What had hurt her and how could he make it better?
“Devra,” he groaned, crossing to her then stopping a few feet short before he could gather her in his arms and tuck her against his chest. He wanted nothing more than to hold her and rock her until they both calmed down and could hash things out.
Would she welcome his touch in such a vulnerable moment?
Probably not.
Maybe, if they could get beyond the barriers they’d learned to construct around these deep wounds they held inside, they could start to make some progress in their relationship. Trevon crooned, “Devra, honey. Don’t cry. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“It’s not!” She flung her head back, her hair whipping around, so she could glare at him defiantly. Her eyes burned like molten gold. It was the first time she’d ever shown him this side of her, a fiery side. It did nothing to help his hard-on settle down.
“Okay.” He raised his hands, palms out, and held them there. “Tell me what’s wrong then. Please? We’ll figure out how to get through it together.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Her beautiful features were twisted in pain that hurt him to see.
“Of course.” How could she doubt that after everything they’d endured by each other’s sides? He took a step toward her, except she retreated one, her ass bumping into the cabinet in the corner of the tiny-home kitchen.
She had nowhere left to run.
Trevon was at a loss. He wasn’t trying to trap her, he just needed to understand what was happening. Maybe Quinn was right. Maybe the Hot Rods had exposed her to things that had shocked her. “What the hell is going on here, Devra? Did you hear or see something last night that upset you?”
“Like you masturbating to fantasies of Quinn?” she asked, deflating before his eyes, clinging to the countertop behind her for support as her knees threatened to buckle. “Yes.”
Trevon coughed. Air rushed out of his lungs like it would from a blown tire. He clutched his chest as he bent at the waist, doubled over with the impact of her accusation and the ramifications it would have on their life. He’d tried so hard to suppress those parts of himself so that he could make her happy.
Clearly, he’d failed.
They were both miserable.
“I shouldn’t have snooped, I’m sorry, but I checked your browser history, too. You really like to watch gay porn.”
She’d done what?
“You’ve been spying on me?” Trevon snarled, feeling like an injured animal, surrounded by hunters.
“It’s okay.” Devra held her hands up. Tears spilled down her cheeks, calling her a liar. “I’m not judging you. And I’m not mad. I’m more…distressed. Ashamed that I’ve been holding you back from what you really need. We both know you’re only with me out of obligation.”
“That’s bullshit!” Trevon never got angry. Except for right then. The skin of his face felt like it had touched the exhaust pipe of his bike. Warmth spread down his neck and across his chest.
He wouldn’t have been surprised if he began to overheat and steam started pouring out of his ears. It only got worse when she kept spouting such garbage.
“I’ve been enough of a burden on you already.” Devra stood taller then, even if her legs wobbled some as she did. “I’m thinking maybe it’s best if I leave so you can be who you were really meant to be. So you can be happy…without me.”
“Stop…talking…like that.” Trevon hissed between clenched teeth. It was killing him that she thought these things. Where had he fucked up so badly that she didn’t realize how much he loved her? “You know I care for you. You’re my best friend and I wouldn’t change anything between us.”
Devra winced at that. “Really? Because I would.”
It caught him off-guard, exactly how much it hurt to hear her say that. “I know things haven’t been perfect. I’m doing my best for us, though. With this job and this house—”
Devra silenced him. “That’s not what I’m talking about. I mean that I want more, for us both, than a platonic partnership that allows us to get by comfortably. You’re obviously craving the same thing—passion. And if I’m not the one who can give it to you…”
“How am I supposed to take from you, Devra?” Trevon didn’t see how it was possible that he could without feeling like he was abusing their situation. He was her only choice. That wasn’t right.
“I know. I get it. I’m not right for you. Quinn seems like he is.” She dashed tears from her face with the back of her hands then stared him straight in the eye when she said, “You should go for it. Make a move and see if he’s interested. You’re an amazing man. You deserve to be happy.”
“No.” Trevon shook his head and waved his hands in front of his chest. “No way.”
“Why wouldn’t you want to experience your fantasies if you have the chance?” Devra asked, rocking Trevon’s world. “I completely understand, you know. He’s sexy. He’s responsible. He’s empathetic. He’s rugged and he’s a little bit broken, isn’t he? Honestly, I think maybe he needs you as much as I do. Did. I mean did.”
Trevon couldn’t react for a moment, torn in two directions. One path was hopeful and exciting so he went that way first. “You’re attracted to Quinn, too?”
When she refused to answer, crossing her arms, he voiced his other thought. “You really don’t need me anymore?”
Why did that thought bruise his heart? He liked protecting her. The ragtag team they’d become over the past two years—when it was them against the world—was something he prized. Didn’t she?
Devra gave him purpose and made him feel like he was doing something right no matter how terrible the rest of their lives had gotten. Unfortunately, she dodged that question, too.
Instead, she said, “Maybe you need to do some things for yourself more than others right now. And if that’s too much for you to handle, then at least do something for Quinn. He needs someone, too.”
Trevon didn’t like that as she cooled down, her calm rationality was starting to make some sort of sense to him. He didn’t want her to be right about this. It confused him that she could be so practical and so willing to let go of what they’d been building between them.
Devra didn’t resolve any of the doubts or insecurities she’d raised within him. She sounded tired, utterly wiped out, when she said, “I’m going to Hot Rods for a while. Okay?”
He sure as shit wasn’t going to stop her. He wasn’t her parent; he was her husband. Her partner, or at least he had thought he was. “Of course. Just…have someone call Quinn when you get there so I know you’re safe, please?”
“I’m glad you still care.” She brushed fresh moisture from her eyes, then raced over and hugged him. Before he could do the same, she dashed to the door, pausing only to say over her shoulder, “I’m sorry, Trevon. I’m so sorry I did this to you.”
Devra took off then, jogging out of sight before he could even figure out what to do. He wandered out onto the porch to keep her in sight a few moments more, cursed, then kicked the post next to the stairs. Even with his boots on, the impact radiated up his leg.
“Careful, neighbor,” came a soft warning from next door. Quinn. Fuck.
Trevon didn’t think he was ready to face the man and come clean about the big blowup he’d just had with his wife. Not caused by something Quinn’s friends had done after all, but because of his own dumbass judgment and the outlet he’d chosen for his pent-up desires.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t sit up in the garage knowing you two were fighting and, well…” Quinn gestured to the tiny strip of grass between the cottages.
Oh fuck. How much had he heard? Trevon tried to replay their argument in his mind.
It was pretty damning.
“Is it true?” Quinn asked. “W
hat she said? About last night?”
Of course it was, but was Trevon ready to admit it?
All this subterfuge and burying of issues was what was causing their problems. If he wanted any hope of digging out of the mess he’d made, he’d have to come clean. To Quinn. And to his wife.
“Yeah.” He scrubbed his hand over his face.
Quinn tracked the movement as if he was studying Trevon’s fingers and picturing what they would look like wrapped around the erection still making an obvious bulge in his pants at that moment despite—or maybe enhanced by—the endorphins, adrenaline, and salacious thoughts his shouting match with Devra had stirred up.
“Do you plan to follow through on what she suggested?” Quinn wondered, idly leaning one shoulder against his own porch support, his hands jammed in his pockets as if Trevon’s response didn’t matter. But Devra had been right about that at least.
Quinn wasn’t whole either. Trevon could tell because he recognized fractured parts of himself in the other guy. Devra obviously was cracked, too. They were a matched set, the three of them.
So he chose his words carefully. “I would like to, if there weren’t consequences.”
“I wouldn’t pick me over her either.” Quinn barked out a laugh. It rang false. Hollow. Not at all like the genuine amusement they’d shared during long days at Hot Rides.
“It’s not like that,” Trevon promised. “I’m married. Whether or not Devra believes it, I meant every word of the vows I took with her. I love her. I just…”
“You’re stuck.” Quinn nodded. “I know. You told me. I have to be honest, Trevon. If Devra hadn’t just gone apeshit on you, I would.”
“What?” Trevon hadn’t expected that. Some friend Quinn was. He threw his hands up. “Why?”
“Were you listening to what she said?” Quinn crossed the lawn to stand next to Trevon. “I heard her shout that she wanted things to be different. She’s tired of only being your best friend. She’s afraid you don’t want her because you’re gay and that she’s stifling you by being married to her.”