by Calista Fox
Case in point: “You know, after Tristan and I cashed in on the gaming software, we could have easily bought an estate in the hills of Bayfront and been just two more wealthy denizens with mansions and yacht club memberships and personal chauffeurs.”
“I suppose so,” Liv ventured. “Although I’ve never once heard either of you say that was what you wished for or aspired to acquire.”
He loved that Liv paid such close attention to her friends’ goals, to the things that mattered most to them. She’d always been engrossed in what fulfilled others as much as what fed her own soul.
Nate told her, “You’re right, in that the mansion lifestyle held little to no appeal for us. However, living aboard the Ariana these past few months has offered a sense of freedom we’d never really experienced before. I realize we were singularly focused at the academy. We were into the sciences and our math and chess clubs. Astronomy at the observatory. As a stereotype, we fit a mold. But as individuals . . . there seemed to be something waiting for us beyond our grasp. A concept that taunted us.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, you do.” Nate’s hands gently pried hers apart at his waist and he turned to face her. He whisked a hand through her strands of her hair that blew in the light breeze and said, “You felt it, too, from the time you were a little girl. A peculiar calling. The need to have roots or a home base, but the ability to explore at will. To change your scenery from one evening to the next if you so chose. To meet new people and have new, exciting experiences around every corner. You’re not meant to be caged. You have long, strong wings that carry you to different destinations, but they also always return you back home to Bayfront.”
She stared up at him, a hint of confusion in her eyes.
Nate said, “Tristan and I get that about you. Because it’s in our blood, too. That’s why I bought the ship. It’ll take us wherever we want to go. Yes, sometimes we need to be much more expeditious. But then again . . . with the infrastructure we’ve built within the organization and given that we’ve designed state-of-the-art business communications solutions, we’re not tied to the office or London or even California. We can roam.”
“I like roaming,” she said on a soft breath. “I also like Bayfront.”
“That’s precisely what I’m getting at. We like Bayfront, too. That’s why we’re expanding operations into San Francisco. And with the Ariana—or if I downsize the yacht so I’m not perceived as pretentious—”
“I never said you were pretentious,” she was quick to say.
He smirked. “You sort of it implied it when you called her a monstrosity.”
“I promise I meant it in the nicest possible way.”
Nate kissed the tip of her nose, then said, “In any event, we can sail along the coast to hubs such as San Diego, L.A., the Bay Area, Portland, Seattle, Vancouver . . . It’s a nice life-work balance we’ve discovered.”
“Well, you have been nose-to-the-grindstone since I met you.”
“That’s another revelation I’ve recently had,” he told her. “I’ve spent my whole life working toward something, even though I wasn’t fully certain what that something was. Tristan, too. But we suffered the conflict of wanting to be normal, while also having the gnawing suspicion that we never would be—and having to accept the fact that being different doesn’t always win popularity contests.”
It was funny how creating a stigma in your mind could permeate not just your entire existence, but make you automatically assume everyone perceived you a certain way, without comprehending that the Toby Andersons of the world, for example, would never give you the benefit of the doubt, but the Liv Tyners of the world would.
Those were the fascinating people who looked beyond the façade and took effort—found it enthralling—to dig beyond the obvious to discover what might be tucked away for safekeeping.
Liv told him, “Normal’s never been good enough for the two of you. I realized that when Tristan and I were talking about The Way You Were and how some people need a level of stability and predictability in their lives. And how some people need a little more . . . chaos.”
“Or just adventure,” Nate said with a wink.
“I prefer chaos.”
He chuckled. “Of course you do.” His head dipped and his lips tangled with hers. Nate loved the way she melded to him, slipping her arms around his neck, becoming one with him. His tongue delved deep to glide along hers as they both tightened their embrace.
No matter what Nate had achieved or obtained, nothing meant more to him than being wrapped up in Liv.
Their kiss continued and he was damn close to leading her back to the bed when he heard Tristan come out onto the deck and take a seat around the hot tub.
Nate unraveled from Liv and she swayed a little on her bare feet, causing him to grin.
“Don’t look too smug,” she breathlessly teased. “Your stepbrother makes me equally lightheaded.”
“Hopefully, we’re the only ones,” Nate quietly said.
She kissed his cheek and told him, “Don’t doubt it for a second.”
Her amber eyes shimmered with affection and adoration.
Nate didn’t think it was possible to be more enamored with her . . . but he was.
She left him and slipped into Tristan’s lap, snuggling against him.
“I have something to tell you both,” she said. “And it is riddled with irony.”
* * *
Tristan’s gut clenched. Liv’s sigh against his neck didn’t help matters. Over the top of her head, his gaze locked with Nate’s, who scowled, apparently not liking the hesitation in her voice any more than Tristan did.
“What’s up?” Tristan asked, striving for nonchalance but not quite sure he hit the mark.
Her fingertips drew lazy circles on his bare chest—he’d gone to his suite to retrieve a pair of drawstring pants while she was out on the deck with Nate. The feel of her curled into him and the sweeping of her fingers would have wholly distracted him, except that something clearly weighed heavy on her mind.
She told them, “I can see your grand plan for what it is now. You’ve figured out that you don’t have to fit into anyone’s ideal to be accepted. You have to be true to yourselves—that’s always been my motto, so naturally I completely agree. You’ve followed your hearts and fulfilled your dreams. Now you have a solid foundation to come back here yet still flit about as needed or desired. The perfect arrangement for you both. A perfect arrangement for me as well, because I want to be closer to you. In fact, I probably max out my time with projects because it keeps me from missing you both so damn much.”
Tristan stroked her silky hair as he said, “Why do I sense a but coming on?”
She stared up at him for a few seconds, then her gaze shifted to Nate. She said, “You’re both going to be in Bayfront. I’m not.”
Tristan felt as though a trapdoor had just sprung open—and he’d fallen right through it.
“You’re doing another movie for Nick,” Nate guessed. “A remake of Seven Years in Tibet? Emphasis on the seven years and the in Tibet parts?”
She laughed softly, though not necessarily humorously. “Not quite. I’m not taking on any more acting roles—for a few years, at least. I’m trying something different. Something I’ve always wanted to do, but like you two, I’ve needed to work my way toward it.”
Tristan’s brow furrowed. He wracked his brain for any hint she’d given over time as to what her ultimate career goal might be, but came up empty-handed.
Nate was the one to ask. “What is it?”
“Singing. I’m going to join a band and we’re going to do a lot of shows and build up our reputation and following. Hopefully catch the attention of a record label. Or maybe we’ll indie-produce something. Nick could certainly help us with that.”
Tristan said, “I thought you lost interest in singing. You didn’t take the deal from the L.A. studio.”
“I definitely haven’t lost interest. This is exa
ctly what I want to do,” she said emphatically. “I didn’t tell you why I passed on the deal. They didn’t want my songs or even me as I am. They asked me to lop off eight inches of hair, dye it blonde, and sing breakup songs. An American Adele. And while I love her music, I don’t want to sing breakup songs. Or change my name to Olivia. It’ll always be Liv—Liv Tyner. So we walked.”
“Wow.” Nate whistled under his breath. “Totally can’t see you as a blonde Olivia.”
With a slight shake of her head, she said, “Me, either. So I started looking for a band in need of a lead singer. I’ve narrowed my search to two. But here’s the kicker—I’d excitedly chosen East Coast bands. Closer to England, you know?”
Tristan let out a sharp breath. “You’re fucking kidding.”
“Surprise,” she said with little enthusiasm.
Nate scrubbed a hand down his face. Rubbed the back of his neck.
Liv said, “I’m planning on being in New York for the next few years. While you guys are here in Bayfront. Doesn’t that just figure?”
Although Tristan did see the irony, he pointed out, “New York isn’t exactly the moon, honey.”
“Agreed.” She ground her teeth a moment, then said, “It just feels like a sign, you know? Like the three of us are only supposed to have these snippets of time together, nothing more.”
Tristan cut straight to the chase. “Do you want more? With us?”
Liv pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was silent a few seconds, collecting her thoughts before saying—with conviction—“I do. I absolutely do. The problem is, we’re always so scattered from each other. And I’m worried that it’s difficult enough to make a relationship with three people gel. Seems downright impossible if I’m not around, right?”
Chapter Nine
The question she’d posed to Nate and Tristan remained front and center in Liv’s mind the next day. They’d all needed some time to process and put more thought into what they were really getting at—what they each wanted to get at. So Liv had kissed them goodnight, left the yacht, and returned to her condo.
The evening had been spectacular and she’d loved every moment of it. Especially her alone time with Nate and Tristan. But as much as she wanted them to truly consider the facets of their involvement with one another going forward, Liv had to do the same. Determine if a polyamorous affair was something that would work for them and what impact it would have on her career, her dreams . . . and theirs.
She let all of that percolate during the day, running all sorts of scenarios and potential solutions—not to mention the notable pitfalls—through her head. Just to make sure she didn’t rush into any conclusions or decisions.
In the late afternoon, before the sun set, she slipped into a black tank-style minidress and heels and headed over to the town square. Sylvia, Seth, and Noah had planned a surprise bachelor-bachelorette party and the festivities were just getting underway, though the bride and groom weren’t yet onsite.
The square’s gazebo sparkled with a Palladian chandelier and fragrant Wisteria sinensis vines twined around the glossy white railings. The courtyard tree trunks were wrapped with twinkle lights, and intricately designed arrangements of Sterling Silver and white roses decorated the perimeter.
Sylvia greeted Liv at the main entrance to the square, giving her a quick hug and saying, “As best as I can tell, both Chloe and John are clueless as what we have planned for them this evening. The invites only went out last week and mum has been the word this whole time.”
Liv’s gaze continued to sweep over the park. There were numerous caterers up front, serving all manner of food and cocktails. Scattered across the lawns were high-top tables and sofas and chairs. There was strolling entertainment, an awning-topped cigar lounge, and full-sized gaming tables toward the back right quadrant. To the left was a grand stage and dance floor.
“This is fantastic,” Liv told her friend. “What can I do to help?”
“Not a damn thing. I want you to enjoy! It’s all completely under control. I only have a few last-minute details to see to.”
They parted ways. As Liv milled about, taking in the lush scenery and listening to the band do their sound check, Fallon joined her and handed over a glass of merlot.
“I love when we have parties in the square,” Fallon said before taking a sip.
“I always seem to miss them. I get the email notifications from the city council or the personal invites and I always feel like they’re postcards declaring, ‘Wish you were here!’”
“That’s because we do wish you were here. And . . . here you are!”
Liv laughed. “How much wine have you had so far?”
With a snicker, Fallon told her, “This is my first glass, I assure you. And I am happy you’re in town. Also dying to know if you have two dates this evening.” She waggled her brows.
Liv took a drink of merlot, then said, “I’m not sure. We didn’t get around to discussing tonight’s festivities.”
“What did you get around to last night? Because both Nate and Tristan were completely mesmerized by you—and you didn’t appear to mind in the least.”
“Suffice it to say, I now fully understand why you weren’t able to choose between Dev and Morgan.”
“Oh! I knew there was something between the three of you!”
“You did not!”
“Please,” Fallon contended. “You are your own force of nature, Liv. But when you saw those guys at the yacht club, you were more lit up than this entire park is going to be at twilight. I could see why Lindsey broke the social media rule when it comes to your private life in Bayfront. And Nate and Tristan were just as smitten.”
“I will admit the three of us do spark.”
“By a lot. Even I feel the charge. It’s always been that way. Since you moved to town when you were a kid, there’s been a very strong underlying current of camaraderie with you three. And by senior year, I was actually beginning to think you’d hook up with one of them.”
“That didn’t happen.” Liv sipped again, then inhaled deeply before dropping her bombshell, finally revealing her sinfully delicious secret. “Not until they graduated college.”
“What?!” Fallon exclaimed, her emerald eyes popping. “You—what?”
Liv couldn’t contain her smile. “You heard me. And, yes, I did say they.”
Fallon gaped. Her head whipped to the left, then to the right, to make sure no one stood close enough to overhear as she asked, “You slept with both of them?”
“At the same time.” A wicked thrill skated down her spine as she added, “Though there really wasn’t much sleeping going on.” She winked.
“Oh. My. God.” Fallon needed more wine. She exchanged both their glasses for fresh ones. Turning back to Liv, she said, “You’re telling me that you had a three-way evening with Nate and Tristan?”
“Five years ago. In Paris. It just sort of happened . . . Well, perhaps not. I mean, it wasn’t a When in Rome . . . kind of thing. But it could have been subconsciously premeditated. I’ve been thinking lately that my entire relationship with them is subconsciously premeditated—on my part.”
“Holy fuck!” Fallon blurted. Then covered her mouth. Only briefly. “Why is this the first I’m hearing of something so monumental?”
Liv experienced a familiar tickle of excitement as she said, “It’s been our little forbidden secret and I’ve gotten a huge high off of keeping it. I don’t know . . . it’s as though having this scintillating confidence amongst the three of us bonds us even more. We’ve never needed to discuss the ménage—we still haven’t discussed the ménage in full. And maybe we truly don’t have to, because we can all clearly see how natural it is for us and—”
Liv let out a harsh breath. Took a moment to digest all of this.
Then she said, “Jesus.” And pressed a hand to her chest. “It really is just a natural state for us. Honestly, from the moment Nate and Tristan returned, I fell into a relationship with them.”
/> “That’s not the only falling going on,” Fallon lightly taunted with a twinkle in her eyes.
Liv’s gaze narrowed on her friend. “What are you talking about?”
“Come on, Liv. I don’t believe your ménage à trois is your only forbidden secret. You’ve been keeping an even bigger one from all of us—including yourself!”
She gasped. Fallon’s brows rose in silent challenge.
Liv’s pulse raced at the thought that perhaps her friend was right . . .
Was she in love with both Nate and Tristan? Not the longtime friendship or mutual adoration type of love she’d always felt for them but the truly, madly, deeply—passionately—type of love?
She opened her mouth to speak. No words came out.
Fallon smiled victoriously. “Uh-huh . . . that’s what I’m talking about. And all I’m sayin’.”
Liv’s mind whirled as she fought for the correct words.
“Why don’t I drop off that glass of yours on a tray,” Fallon suggested, “before it slips right through your fingers.”
Nodding was the most Liv could muster at the moment. Thankfully she didn’t have to strain herself too much with conversation, because a massive crowd began to gather, and the band cued a drum roll.
Liv turned toward the gazebo as a stunned Chloe and John were escorted to it by Sylvia, Seth, and Noah. Sylvia announced, “Surprise!” with the entire throng of guests echoing the sentiment.
Pretty Chloe with her adorable blonde bob and her to-die-for dimples pressed a shaky hand to her mouth as tears filled her eyes. Tall, manly John with his Tom Selleck mustache and broad shoulders looked on the verge of losing it a little, too. Because his fiancée was so blown away by the party—and the gorgeous setting.
They stood in the middle of the gazebo, taking in the entire town square as everyone clapped and cheered for them.