by Deena Bright
“Janelle, really?” Leo walked over to the couch and sat down on the coffee table. “I don’t expect much from that barbarian, but really? Do you have no restraint?”
“Don’t ‘Janelle really’ me,” I argued. “Neither of you have touched me in ten… very long days.”
Man, Leo looked good. He must’ve taken his mom and grandma to brunch earlier; something he does on the first Sunday of every month. He knew I was a sucker for the preppy, frat boy look. His clothes were his ammunition today. I loved a well-dressed man. His tan polo shirt looked incredible with this sun-kissed skin. I was surprised at how tan he looked, knowing that he probably doused himself in a gallon of sunscreen every time he encountered daylight. And Briggs, he knew that his eyes were my weakness. He’d deliberately worn a light blue shirt to accentuate my kryptonite. I just knew it. These two were playing hardball. Damn.
Leo grabbed my hand and said, “Trust me, these last ten days have been torture, but I promise, I’ll make every last minute up to you soon.” He kissed my hand, and my breath caught. I licked my lips. He sighed, leaning closer to me, and I sat up, meeting him.
“What the fuck,” Briggs said. “This shit ain’t gonna work. I’m gonna flatten Loverboy Leo over here,” he threatened, pushing Leo back.
Leo stood up, squaring off, staring Briggs right in his gorgeous, panty-creaming eyes. They were eye-to-eye, like two animals fighting over their prey. Me? I still couldn’t fathom that Leo Cling was as tall and as cut as Briggs Alexander. It was truly amazing. Amazing to see the eighth and ninth wonders of the world standing in my pool house, both wanting me.
I walked between them when Leo whined like a schoolboy, “Seriously Janelle, he said ‘ain’t,’ isn’t that some sort of deal-breaker for you?”
“Awww what’s the matter Cling, don’t think you’re man enough to win this?” Briggs goaded him.
“Alright you two,” I said, staying between them, pushing them apart, letting my hands wander down their chests and past their stomachs. Both men began to react at my slight touch, causing my insides to warm and stir. God, I missed them. “Are you two going be able to handle this?” I asked, continuing to physically assault them with my hands as each hand traveled below their waistbands.
They both nodded. Leo backed away, probably uncertain of where this may go. Briggs didn’t budge, but stared at me straight in the eyes. My legs wobbled. I wanted him. I was done waiting. Don’t get me wrong, Leo was a remarkable and talented lover, but I needed the ruggedness and urgency that Briggs brought to the bedroom, the counter, the couch, the floor. He could definitely bring it—anywhere he fucking wanted.
“So, who’s going to be on the schedule for tomorrow?” I asked. The question spurned another series of arguments and ridicule, this time without the testosterone showboating.
The three of us finally made it to the table where we could sit down and pound out a schedule and contract. This was going to be one fun summer. We finally started making some leeway, discussing the rules and expectations of the summer. I amended the previous day’s rule. I would still allow them to take me on dates and “do their wooing magic,” but all dates needed to be outside of our local vicinity. I was not about to give anyone anything more to gossip and speculate about. After Vince blasted me on every social network site and Marcus told the local television stations that I’d been sleeping with my underage students, I figured that it would be in everyone’s best interest to ensure that there was a change of venue for our outside dating.
After a few terms were negotiated, Briggs and Leo hit yet another stalemate. Crossing his arms obstinately, Briggs said, “Sorry, not my problem.” Briggs was not being agreeable at all, not giving in.
“Janelle, can you help me here?” Leo asked, desperate to continue with the contract.
“Uh… no… y’all are on your own,” I said, throwing my hands up in surrender, rocking on two legs of the chair. “I don’t even know why you guys wanted me here.”
They wanted me here as a mediator, referee, hell, as a witness when one finally killed the other. They argued over every last point and detail in this so-called amicable contract they wanted to draft. The bottom line: these two were never going to get along or make it easy for the other.
“Briggs, now listen,” Leo spoke to him like he was a toddler, and everyone knows you can’t reason with a toddler. “You have to give me all day Saturday and all day Sunday, it’s only fair…”
Briggs cut him off, “The Hell I do,” he stood up, getting in Leo’s face. “It’s not my problem you work when we don’t.”
Briggs wanted Saturdays, willing to give Leo Fridays and Sundays; Leo wanted both weekend days since Briggs and I were home, not working all day long throughout the summer. Leo wanted long, lazy afternoons with me too.
“Guys, can we just get this done? I feel like I’m a 10-year-old little girl witnessing her parents’ custody battle,” I whined, standing up. Leo grabbed me by the waist, and pulled me over to his lap. I giggled, missing his touch, his playfulness. He nuzzled into my neck, making me giggle again. I hadn’t touched either of these gorgeous men in almost two weeks. I missed them. Every inch of my body missed them.
“Oh I seriously don’t fucking think so,” Briggs gritted through his teeth. “Nobody touches her until this contract is done. You said so yourself Cling.” I sighed, got up and went into the kitchen. These two were killing me, frustrating the Hell out of me.
Leo told Briggs to go fuck himself and went to the bathroom. Through these “negotiations,” I kept seeing such a strong, forceful, masculine side to Leo. When he spoke to Briggs, he was rough, intimidating, and so controlled. It was hot. The second Leo left the room, Briggs was all over me. His mouth was on mine, his tongue exploring my mouth. It was obvious that we were trying to finish what we’d started earlier. I pulled him tighter, pressing our bodies closer together, relishing the heat, the tension, the want.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” Leo questioned, walking back into the room. “Now I can’t even take a piss?” Leo fumed, hopping up on the counter. I sighed, angry, frustrated, and horny as all get out.
“You’re the dumbass who left me alone with her,” Briggs countered.
They started bickering back and forth, something they were getting very good at. I stepped out of the kitchen and walked into my bedroom, while they argued. Neither noticed my absence. Briggs and Leo continued to bicker at one another, never coming close to a truce, a resolution. The argument was heating up.
“Hey guys… guys… Hello?”
They finally looked over at me, standing in the hallway in a black strapless bra, black thong, with black garters and thigh highs. Their mouths dropped, silence filled the room.
“Get the contract done,” I forcefully instructed. “Put someone, either of you, on it for tomorrow morning at 8:00 a.m.”
I unhooked my bra, letting it fall straight to the ground. I loved the look on both of their faces. They wanted me, proving that this was just as frustrating and as hard for them too.
I started to walk away. “Oh and another thing,” I added. “I’ll be in my room with my door locked, thinking about BOTH of you.” I was definitely getting to them. Their eyes blazed with lust. “Let yourselves out when you’re done… and for Christ’s sake, get the fucking contract done.”
I DID NOT sleep well at all last night. As soon as I went to my room and started to take matters into my “own hands,” I heard Leo and Briggs leave the pool house. Apparently, they couldn’t concentrate on their matters while I was concentrating on my own self-love.
When they were about to leave, Briggs yelled through the door, “Take it easy in there, I’ve got big plans for you this week.” As he walked away, I heard Leo’s reply.
“Really? She said it wasn’t all that big… said she doubted you were really even black.” Then he added loudly, “Goodnight Janelle, sweet dreams.”
With that, I heard some ruffling and a few choice words, at which time, I turned up the music
on my iHome and continued with myself. Normally, I sleep rather well after enjoying myself a bit, but last night, nope. I tossed and turned, worrying about Marcus and Vince, and hoping the school could really back me on all that occurred. My mind kept inevitably wandering back to Leo and Briggs. I knew that I couldn’t date two guys for the rest of my life, or screw two different guys for eternity. I’d have to choose sooner or later. I knew I had to choose. But, I also knew that I certainly wasn’t going to “Kelly Taylor” them.
Man, Kelly fucking Taylor pissed me the fuck off. Still, to this day, she made my goddamn blood boil. All she had to do was choose between Dylan McKay and Brandon Walsh. How hard was that? Pretty nice spot to be in, if you asked me. (Kind of like the spot I was in right now.) Of course Dylan was the hotter one, probably better in bed, but he was a loose cannon. You couldn’t count on him. Brandon was going places; you could see a future with him. But what did she do? I remember it vividly; can still see it as plain as day as she’s standing on the sidewalk looking at both of them. Kelly dumbass Taylor looks at them and says, “Me, I choose me.” What the fuck was that? Bitch. No wonder she turned to cocaine and got burned up in the fire. Whore.
After thinking about Kelly and her stupidity, I had to watch a few 90210 episodes on my boxed DVD set, so I could seethe and focus more on her turmoil than my own. I finally fell asleep on the couch, but woke up when the sunlight was pouring in through the skylight. I tried to just go back to my bedroom and enjoy the room-darkening shades (best invention ever). However, I still couldn’t fall back to sleep.
I put my swimsuit on and ended up swimming a few laps, took a shower, and cleaned the pool house. Jocelyn’s antics were rubbing off on me. She cleaned when she was stressed out or riddled with a distempered mind. I knew that Briggs was due at my house at 9:00 a.m., and I was more than ready and willing to see him. I couldn’t get him (or Leo) off my mind. I wondered what they ended up with last night. Both of them texted me many times throughout night. The texts were pretty telling.
TEXTS FROM BRIGGS:
Dudes a winey pansy-ass
Dont ya think Leo looks like a giraffe
He sighs alot Sighing is gay.
I want you so bad. Why am I with him when I can be doing hot things to you in that pool house of yours
TEXTS FROM LEO:
Ain’t
Irregardless
Careerful
Superblatude
I’m listing all the words he uses. Not only do I not know what they mean, I don’t know what words he THINKS he’s trying to use.
Why does he put everything into a football reference? I’m going to start using crew terms to fuck with him.
TEXTS FROM BRIGGS:
Dude just told me his cock was swinging. WTF? I don’t need to know that shit
He might be gay, bi maybe. You need to dump his scrawny ass.
TEXTS FROM LEO:
Hahaha I just told him that I needed to be the coxswain in these negotiations to steer the contract in the right direction. He looked like I asked him for sex. Oh this just got a lot more fun.
Janelle, you are way too smart for him. Your five-year-old nieces are too smart for him. How are they, anyway?
So based on the texts, I’m certain they got along swimmingly. I’m glad Leo couldn’t see all the misspellings in Briggs’ texts. He would lose it. However, Char would’ve loved to have been at that table egging them on. I’m glad they left. It’s frustrating as Hell looking at two men you want immensely and can’t have, because a contract needs drafted prior to any physical activity. That was taking the fun out of the whole thing.
I decided to make some Belgium waffles for Briggs, figuring he might need his stamina to keep up with me today. Just as I was unplugging the waffle iron and the waffles were warming on low in the oven, the long-awaited knock sounded. Thank the Lord! I probably shouldn’t say that, the Lord would not like what I had planned for Briggs today, being “technically” still married to someone else and all. I’ll just thank my lucky stars instead.
When I opened the door, I was surprised to find Briggs and Leo both standing there. Leo was holding my beta fish in a fishbowl, while Briggs was struggling one-handedly with Gatsby, my St. Bernard. Dumbfounded, I stood there speechless. I’d been fighting with Marcus for the past month to get my dog and fish back.
When Char and I had gone to get my stuff, my dog and fish were conveniently not there. Marcus claimed that he was using them as collateral or a “deposit” until I paid him back for the Keurig and ping-pong table. He figured that since Char was going to be with me when I got my stuff that it was quite probable that she’d put me up to some despicable act or acts. (Guess he hadn’t figured it out yet that his own toothbrush took a quick tour of Char’s Hershey highway.)
Marcus took the fish and dog to Lauren’s before I got there. I was pissed when I discovered them gone, which was why I so willingly agreed to “heat up” the driveway and max out his credit card. Oh man, that was epic.
Finally, I tried to find my words, “How did you… when…?”
I couldn’t believe they’d gotten them back for me. “Thank you. Oh my God, thank you.” I hugged Gatsby as if my life depended upon it. I missed that great big lug so much. As he was slobbering all over my face, clothes, and body, I noticed Briggs’ hand. “Briggs, what happened to your hand?” I screeched, staring at the bandages.
“Let’s just say your ex wasn’t too fond of us breaking into his house while he was home and stealing his pets,” Briggs replied.
“Holy Smokers, you broke into my house?” I asked, looking at them in utter disbelief. “How’d you get in? Marcus has a gun. He could’ve killed you!” I started to panic, worrying about how Marcus may retaliate.
“Leo jimmied the lock… like a common criminal… still won’t tell me how he knows how to do that,” Briggs said, looking at Leo skeptically. “Anyway, Marcus was bare-assed in the kitchen… with that skank,” he said, dropping his eyes from mine, focusing on Gatsby instead.
“Yeah, he grabbed a knife from the butcher block, but Briggs laughed at him and knocked it out of his hand, but he ended up cutting his own hand in the process… dumbass,” Leo explained, shaking his head, eyeing Briggs’ hand.
“So Leo restrained him, while I got the dog and that fish,” Briggs continued. “That bitch kept screaming some shit about her phone being in the car and not being able to find that douchebag’s pants to get his phone.”
Briggs was laughing, and playing with Gatsby, and then, finally said, “They couldn’t call the cops. We were out before they knew it.”
“Oh my God, you guys are my heroes. You saved my babies,” I squealed, snuggling Gatsby closer to me.
Briggs looked pretty proud of himself, and then added, “Right before we left, I punched Marcus in the face with my other hand, which I know… I know… it was a ‘dick move’ since Leo was holding him back, but I just couldn’t help myself.”
“Marcus came running out, once he found his underwear, threatening to press breaking and entering and assault charges, but we just left.” Leo put the fish down and pulled a small container of food out of his pocket, dropping two small flakes into the bowl. “There you go Atticus.”
“Oh yeah, why’d you name your fish ‘abacus.’ It’s kind of a silly name for a fish.” Briggs said.
“It’s ‘Atticus,’ not ‘abacus,’ you ass,” Leo said, rolling his eyes at Briggs.
“Well, that ain’t much better,” Briggs countered.
Interrupting and standing between them, I said, “Briggs, it’s ‘Atticus Fish,’ named after the dad in To Kill a Mockingbird,” I clarified.
“Never read it,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Have you ever read anything?” Leo provoked.
“I read the four million dollar contract ESPN gave me,” Briggs responded, puffing out his chest like a proud peacock.
“No you didn’t; you hired someone to do that for you,” Leo said. Turning to me and looking frustr
ated, he said, “Janelle, the guy doesn’t know who ‘Atticus Finch’ is. He probably doesn’t even know why you named your dog ‘Gatsby’ either.”
“The fuck I don’t, after Leonardo Di Caprio in that movie,” he said. “But, that dog looks a lot older than…”
Cutting him off before Leo could gain any more ammunition to shoot at him, I kissed Briggs and said, “Briggs, thank you so much for getting Gatsby and Atticus, and risking your life for me.” He wrapped his arms around me, and I kissed him again.
Reluctantly, I pulled away a millisecond before I heard Leo’s annoyed sigh. “But what I don’t understand is, how did you two team up and go do this? Based on the texts I was getting, things weren’t going too smoothly,” I questioned.
Basically, the more beer they consumed at the bar while drafting the contract, the more “guy-like” they became. They were arguing incessantly, and then Leo said that all the fighting wasn’t getting them anywhere. Apparently, Briggs said that he was just pissed off at everything and wanted to “fuck with someone.” Leo remembered how hurt and lonely I’d been without Gatsby and Atticus and casually stated that they could go “fuck with Marcus” and get my pets back. Briggs was on the plan in a second.
Evidently, they could get along when they had a common goal or enemy. After they picked up Taco Bell and brought Gatsby and Atticus back to Briggs’ apartment, they played Xbox and figured out the contract as civilly as possible. Leo added that he’d beaten Briggs in Madden four times before Briggs threw the controller at the TV and challenged him to a real football game in the grass out back. Leo declined, naturally. Briggs called him a “pussy.” And that was it. Leo met up with Briggs this morning to help bring over the fish and dog and to show Briggs the contract he’d typed up, making sure that Briggs wouldn’t freak his shit with the rules and expectations.