Heath sits his ass back down.
“I have no problem with you two being entertainers, Josh. I make a career from playing out roles, slipping into character so deep it becomes reality, and then I snap back out of it again. Some of those roles involve intimacy. Some involve being in love. Some hate. Some anger. Some violence. But at the end of the day, I still come home as me. I’m still Heath when I’m donewith filming.” He smiles. “I’d imagine you’d say the same about your line of work as well.”
Josh and I both nod, because Heath has hit the nail on the head right there.
When we are on proposals, we become the fantasies. We live them out as though they are our own. We do our best. We give our all. But then, at the end of the proposal we are just us again, loving each other.
And loving Heath Mason, too.
“I guess we’re called polyamorous now,” Heath says. “Is that an ok term for us?”
“Suits me just fine,” Josh replies. “I get to have a boyfriend as well as my sweet Ella.”
“And I get two have two boyfriends instead of one,” I giggle. “Wow, I’m spoiled.”
“Fuck breakfast,” Heath laughs, and gets out a fresh bottle of red from the wine cupboard. “We’ve got a whole other world that needs christening, especially a bed upstairs. Our first time as a threesome, for good.”
“Actually, it’s called a throuple,” Josh says.
“Alright smartass,” Heath says, “let’s go upstairs and get throupling!”
This time we christen Heath’s bed. Hard and furious but fuelled by absolute love.
He fucks my boyfriend’s ass as his own boyfriend now, and takes his boyfriend’s dick in return, and I get both boyfriends in one in the aftermath. A fresh stretch in the shower to consummate the pleasure, as well as the sting and the burn.
“Bedtime now, surely?” I say as they drop me back onto my feet in the shower tray. “My God, guys, we need to get some rest.”
“Not quite,” Heath tells me. “We’ve got a final toast to make.”
Ah, of course. The final toast is another kind of champagne. One of our specialities.
It’s golden, and warm, with no fizz like De Chante.
My favourite beverage of all.
EPILOGUE
“I’m beyond jealous,” Tiff tells me on the phone. “Urgh, I’m as big a fan as you are. I always have been!”
“Nah, you’re not,” I laugh. “Nighttime Whispers lives in my very soul. You come second place as a mega fan, tops.”
“Bullshit,” she laughs back. “Heath Masonlives in your very soul. Nighttime Whispers is just a bonus. A very fucking big bonus. I can’t wait to check out the pictures later. My fucking God, Ells. You’re going to be a red carpet superstar! I can’t wait to see you onscreen!”
“Neither can I,” I say, trying to hold back the nerves already bubbling away in my stomach.
Nerves rarely hit me these days, because they have no place for me now that I’m accustomed to being a public presence. Not when it comes to hitting red carpets or being seen in public.
But tonight is different.
Very, very different.
For Heath more than any of us.
Ella Edwards may be known for being an A-list Londonentertainer, with my face plastered all over social media at celebrity events, but this outing will be the first time I’ll ever beassociated with Heath in a formal setting, there for the world to see.
It will be both me and Josh alongside him on the red carpet for the last ever season premiere of Nighttime Whispers. It speaks volumes. It screams the depth of our connection for all of the gossips in the world.
Heath Mason will be hand in hand with two notorious characters, both as eccentric and gothed up as he is. And we’re not going to hold back.
