Olive smiled. “I’m not sure I wouldn’t have reacted the same way if it was me.”
“I think I’m good with just one guy, thanks. He’s a handful already,” Indiana commented, traces of laughter in her voice. “I took your advice, and it worked out with Hyatt.”
Olive’s mouth stretched into a grin. “I’m so happy for you, Indi.”
“Thanks. I do have one question though.”
“Shoot.”
“Is this like a harem thing?” Indiana blurted out, eyeing her friend critically. “Because you really should be careful if it is. The exposure and hygiene.”
Olive threw her head back and laughed. “No, it’s not a harem thing. It’s just us three.”
Indiana tilted her head to the side, unconvinced. “Are you sure?”
“I’m pretty sure I would know if I was part of a harem,” Olive remarked, dryly. “It’s pretty hard to miss.”
“I’ll say,” Indiana commented.
Olive nudged her shoulders. “Just how much did you see?”
Indiana blushed. “Far more than I ever wanted to. I think I’m scarred for life, so I’ll be sending you the therapy bill.”
Olive snorted. “You’re the one who walked into my apartment.”
Indiana laughed and threw her arms around Olive, squeezing her tightly. “To share the good news, not walk in on you in the middle of your very own live porno. Jesus. There’s a lot of things I wanted to see, but your naked ass isn’t one of them.”
Olive rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You wish you were that lucky.”
9
Milo
It had been six weeks since the incident with Olive’s best friend, Indiana. That was exactly forty-two days, and one thousand and eight hours. Ever since then, the change in Olive had been noticeable, the air around her lighter, as if a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
Yes, he imagined it must’ve been a big relief to be able to share it with someone, and he wanted that for her; he was thankful that she was so happy, the small step allowing her to gradually ease into their relationship, whole heartedly accepting it.
Of course, it hadn’t been a smooth ride; there were many challenges they faced along the way, but Milo liked to think they were better for it, believing in the age old adage that what didn’t kill them made them strong.
This was doubly true in their case.
Here they were, six weeks since Indiana found out the truth, and three months into their relationship, and Milo felt perfectly and irrevocably happy. An entirely new and foreign feeling he wasn’t used to.
Granted, he was used to a different kind of elation, the type that came with closing a big deal, or watching a high stakes action movie, but he’d never imagined this feeling would dawn on him while in a relationship.
In fact, he’d resigned himself to the fact that it wouldn’t, writing off as another Hollywood myth, movie magic that was confined to the screen and nothing more. Sure, he’d seen plenty of happy couples over the years, but he’d believed they’d stayed together out of a sense of obligation not true love.
As clichéd as it was, Olive had proven him wrong, in all the ways that counted, and he couldn’t wait to tell her that, to confess it to the whole world, and he knew Julian was in complete agreement.
There were few things they agreed on, an issue they needed to work on, but on the whole, the two of them had developed a sense of respect for each other, and a brotherly affection that didn’t extend to other areas of their life.
Thankfully.
He liked Julian well enough, but it would’ve been problematic if the man had developed sexual feelings for him, even if it did seem to be a byproduct, or an inevitable conclusion of seeing each other in that light.
However, luckily for him, their feelings were strictly platonic, and he doubted that would change, not with the way they both felt about the fiery redhead, the one who managed to capture their hearts with a simple flick of the wrist; that old black magic.
Yes, it was definitely love.
Milo was giddy, floating on clouds, wanting to cup his hands around his mouth and sing it at the top of his lungs giddy. The kind that made him want to skip on the street, grab Olive and spin her around, his eyes never once leaving her face.
It appeared that when it came to Olive, he was an absolute sucker, and a complete cheeseball, two seconds away from turning into one of those old black and white Hollywood leading men.
Milo gave a slight shake of his head and looked across at Julian who sat across from him in the car, gazing out at the street ahead. In the back of his mind, he wondered about the logistics, the way this would work, but he knew that as long as Olive was in, he would find a way to make it work.
And he suspected Julian would, too.
When it came to Olive and her happiness, they were in absolute agreement, no questions asked. Milo turned to face Julian and wiped his hands on his trousers, the button-down shirt feeling surprisingly constricting.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Julian muttered, face pressed to the window. “It’s completely bat-shit crazy.”
Milo chuckled. “Yeah, I think so too.”
Julian turned to face him. “So, we’re still going through with it, right?”
“I still want to,” Milo responded. “Do you? Because you know it’s not too late to back out.”
Julian shook his head. “Nah, I’m not going anywhere. I love her.”
“So do I.”
Milo leaned back against the leather chair, staring at the small glass window that separated them from the driver. All he needed to do was focus, zero in on the task ahead. For now, it was simple, they needed to get to the restaurant Olive first met them at.
According to the GPS, they were a few minutes away, but the unexpected traffic jam meant there was a delay. Suddenly, he was thankful that Julian insisted they leave early, wanting to beat Olive to the destination.
In fact, she’d been quite surprised when they’d offered to meet here there, even sharing the fact that they planned on arriving together. She’d glanced between the two of them suspiciously before she shrugged, deciding that she would let that particular battle go.
Not for long though.
Milo flicked open the first button on his shirt and sank forward, his fingers drumming against his thighs impatiently. There were few things he hated in the world as much as traffic, the caged feeling it evoked in him, as if he was waiting to be experimented on.
In reality, it wasn’t that bad, the sense of restlessness coming simply from the fact that he was encouraged to be on the move, constantly, doing something, staying busy, staying useful, and sitting there idly defied that.
Finally, the car lurched forward and eased back onto the road, arriving to their destination within a few short minutes. Milo and Julian stepped out of the car and hurried inside.
While Milo went to their table, Julian drew the waiter aside, his head bent in low conversation. Milo stared at him in confusion before he sank into the bean bag, reaching for his menu although he knew it was pointless.
Julian joined him, and they sat in silence, waiting for Olive to arrive.
Thanks to the force of their combined connections, as soon as Olive walked in, they had the whole place to themselves with only two waiters serving their table while the rest had the night off.
Confused, Olive took a quick look around, the sound of her heels clicking on the floor as she approached them, brows knitted together.
“Where is everyone?” Olive asked, sinking into the bean bag and reaching for her glass of wine. She took a long swallow and set it back down, offering them both a pearly grin.
“No idea,” Milo lied. “So, how was work today?”
“Nothing interesting to report,” Olive replied. “Just an old man who was convinced I had secret treasures and was hoarding them in the back.”
Julian snorted. “Were you able to convince him otherwise?”
“Barely,” Olive answ
ered. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to have to wrestle him to the ground or what.”
Milo threw his head back and roared. “Tackle a poor old man to the ground? That’s a bit excessive, don’t you think?”
Olive paused. “Well, yeah, of course it’s excessive, but he kept walking around the store misplacing stuff then he tried to go around the back, so I had to block him, but it wasn’t easy.”
“Oh, you poor thing. Just you against the defenseless old man,” Julian commented, sarcastically. “How did you survive?”
Olive shot him a dirty look and flipped him off. “I barely survived. This is a harrowing tale not a comedy.”
Milo scoffed. “And how did the heroine fare in the end?”
“She had to fight tooth and nail to escape,” Olive answered, promptly. She proceeded to brush imaginary lint off of her dress, drawing attention to her smooth curves, and the generous amount of cleavage on display. “His grandson came to take him away.”
“So, a man can come to the rescue,” Julian pointed out, smugly. He reached for his beer and took a long gulp, shooting her a wink across the table. “We aren’t so bad after all.”
“No, sometimes you can be quite useful,” Olive agreed. “I mean, you can open jars and shit like that, so I guess you’re alright.”
“You guess?” Milo teased, bumping his shoulders against hers. “You just admitted it.”
“Ah, but you didn’t get it in writing, so you have no proof,” Olive revealed, puffing her chest out triumphantly. “Who’s the sucker now? Suckers.”
“Milo, I think she pulled one over on us,” Julian remarked, sharing a quick look.
Milo scratched his chin, leaned backwards in his seat and signaled the waiter. “So, there’s something we’ve been meaning to ask you.”
As one, they stood up and got down on one knee with Milo reaching into his pocket for the box, allowing Julian and himself to hold it up proudly. Olive gasped, her wine glass halfway to her lips, eyes as wide as saucers.
“Olive, when I met you, I never expected to fall in love with you, much less be here. I always thought love was meant for someone else not for me, but you’ve proven me wrong,” Julian began.
“And I thought love was a myth, something that could only exist on a TV screen or in books, but I’m happy that isn’t true. You’ve made us so happy, and we wanted to ask you to come out here, in the place where it all started to ask you an important question.”
Slowly, she set her glass down and turned to face them, giving them her full attention. Julian pried the lid open, revealing a beautiful ring with two diamonds, to symbolize the duality of their commitment to her, their Olive.
“Olive Kate Anderson. Will you do us the honor of becoming our wife?” Julian asked.
Milo tensed, waiting with baited breath to see if she could see them. He liked to think he knew Olive fairly well, but her expression was shuttered, carefully guarded save for the surprise, and he couldn’t figure out what she was thinking, couldn’t even begin to guess.
Next to him, he could sense Julian’s anxiety as well, and a growing sense of unease if she said no, and the inevitable fallout that would come. She gave a slight shake of her head, as if to get rid of something then dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around both of them and squeezing tightly.
“Yes,” Olive whispered. “Can we get the food to go? So, we can celebrate later?”
Milo drew back and motioned towards the bags then asked for the check, hardly able to wait till they got back, so he could properly worship at her feet, marveling over every inch of skin.
On the way back to Julian’s, their proposed new house, Olive could hardly stop touching them, alternating between the two, the current of electricity running between them at an all-time high.
She barely made it through the door before she unzipped her dress, letting it fall in a heap around her ankles. She stepped out of it and unhooked her bra, cocking her finger at Milo who was half undressed.
Olive shot Julian a look over her shoulder, helping him out of his clothes as she led them both to the couch, gesturing for Milo to take a seat. Happily, he obliged, spreading his legs open as she lowered herself between his thighs, taking the length of him inside her mouth, an instant spark of pleasure coursing up through him.
Julian entered her from behind, his nails digging into her sides to hold her in place, fingers kneading her sensitive nipples. Milo threw his head back and grunted, his fingers threading themselves through her hair, enjoying the soft little noises she was making, driving them over the edge.
Yes, she was absolutely right.
This was the best way to celebrate the news, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. A few hours later, the three of them collapsed onto the floor, a heap of limbs and sweat, curled around each other.
Bliss.
10
Julian
Julian couldn’t wipe the shit eating grin off his face, even going so far as to hum under his breath as he swerved to avoid an incoming car, not even bothered by the fact that it was going the other way.
With the way he was feeling, nothing could bring him down.
At least, nothing he could think of. His humming turned to whistling as he put the car in reverse and backed up into a spot, leaning over in his seat over the dashboard to look ahead.
Well, he had to hand it to Aiden.
He sure did have a habit of picking the most obscure places to meet up, probably because almost every place worth going to had a queue a mile long, and in the end, it was unlikely they’d get in, so this way, they didn’t even have to wait.
Julian stepped out of the car and hit the button, his car beeping as it locked itself, making a soft whirring noise before it fell quiet, plunging him into a comfortable silence. He pushed the door open and stepped into the pub, waving his hands in front of his face to clear away the smoke.
It wasn’t as empty as he expected, but hardly packed by weekend standards. He pressed his arms close to his side and squeezed in, moving in and out of the groups of people, eyeing the table in the far corner, currently unoccupied.
As soon as he made it there, he let out a breath of relief and ordered a pint of beer, rubbing his hands together to ward off some of the cold. He unwrapped his scarf from around his neck and set it next to him, shrugging out of the coat next.
The entire place had a homey, intimate feel to it, with a pool table in the back, darts in another corner, and wooden tables littering every surface available, with most patrons preferring the high chairs, with their feet dangling off the edge.
Tucked in the back was a balcony sectioned off for smokers, fitting up to four people at once. Julian’s fingers itched, the lingering smell awakening the need in him, but he pushed it away.
After all, he’d given it up a year ago and had no intention of going back, not with the growing list of effects, most of which weren’t even worth it. No, he had no regrets when it came to leaving cigarettes behind, but there were moments every now and again, when he craved the nicotine, those times snuck up on him and tapped him on the shoulder, warm and familiar.
Just like now.
Thankfully, his drink arrived, a huge mug overflowing with beer, and it sloshed over the table. The server apologized and mopped it up, offering him an apologetic smile as she scurried off behind the counter.
He took a sip and smacked his lips together, the warm liquid marking a path down his throat till it landed in the pit of his belly. The front door swung open, bringing with it a gust of cold wind, and Julian spotted his friend’s familiar head.
Julian waited till Aiden was in the center before he waved him over, gesturing for the waitress to bring another pint of beer. Aiden’s blue eyes landed on Julian, alight with amusement as he pushed his way through the crowd, the rest of his face covered.
“Christ, it’s cold out,” Aiden complained. “I hope you ordered me one of those.”
“Welcome back honey. How was your day?” Julian joked, slapping Aiden’s
hand away. “No way, man. Hands off my beer. You know the rule.”
Aiden rolled his eyes and slipped off his gloves. “Shit, man. I was only going to take a sip.”
“You said that last time too,” Julian pointed out.
“Last time was different,” Aiden retorted.
“How?”
“Because it just was,” Aiden replied, leaning back in his seat and patting his stomach. “I’m thinking of getting a burger. You should try one by the way. Big, juicy, greasy burgers, and their fries are pretty decent too.”
Julian wiped his hands across his mouth. “I think I might yeah. So, how did your date with the blonde bombshell go?”
Aiden grimaced and leaned forward, clasping his fingers together. “I think I kind of get why women are frustrated now, with the dating scene I mean. She’s hot as fuck, but that’s pretty much it.”
“No stimulating conversation?” Julian asked, sympathetically.
“She started talking to me about the Kardashians, and the latest trends in make-up. Like I was some kind of chick.”
“Well, you do have the legs for it,” Julian commented.
Aiden shot him a dirty look. “Anyway, that’s that, I guess. Does Olive happen to have a hot friend?”
There it was again.
The longest running joke between them.
“Yes, she does, but she’s already taken,” Julian reminded him. “Didn’t you ask me before?”
“Doesn’t she have any other friends? On second thoughts, don’t answer that. Then you might want to go on like a triple date or whatever you want to call that shit.”
As soon as the waitress reappeared with his drink, Aiden gulped down the entire pint, barely pausing to take a deep breath before he set it down and ordered a burger, with everything on it.
Julian ordered another one, and they leaned back in their seats, nodding along to the music wafting out of the speakers, a mixture of jazz and country, apt given their surroundings.
“So, how are things with Olive, and the mister?” Aiden asked, casually.
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