“Yes,” Emory replies. “Because we’re adults.”
I snort. “That’s debatable. We’re nineteen. We’re not known for always thinking rationally.”
“Speak for yourself.” Emory’s tone is teasing.
I put my hand on the back of his neck and pull him to me for a searing kiss, which is all tongues and clashing teeth.
“Sorry, I got carried away,’ I say to Casey.
He shakes his head. “It’s fine. Kissing in front of me is fine.”
“Is kissing you fine too?”
He nods, so I shuffle closer and press a long kiss to his lips. “In case it wasn’t obvious, I’d love to be in a triad with the two of you.”
“So would I, but you knew that already,” Emory says.
“It was kind of obvious,” I say.
Casey holds his thumb and forefinger five millimetres apart. “Just a little.”
Emory blushes. “So, is that what we’re going to do?”
We exchange glances.
“Yes,” I say.
Casey nods.
“And what about more check-ins? Do we need to have another chat a week from now?” Emory asks.
Casey grimaces. “A check-in would be good, but maybe not a week from now. I’ll be exhausted after a weekend of swimming.”
“Fair point,” Emory says.
I squeeze Casey’s shoulder. “How about in a fortnight? Or in a month? Or we could agree to talk if anything is bothering us or doesn’t seem to be working. This check-in was the right thing to do, but Emory is right. We are adults. We can communicate without having a set time to do it.”
“I thought you were an immature nineteen-year-old?” Emory teases.
I stick my tongue out at him.
He giggles. “So mature.”
Casey shakes his head. “How have I ended up being the most mature person in the room?”
I make eye contact with Emory and grin. “Hug tackle?”
“Hug tackle,” he agrees.
“Huh?” Casey asks right before we launch ourselves at him, wrap our arms around him, and drive him to the floor.
22
EMORY
It’s Wednesday evening, but I’ve lost track of time kissing Auggie in a post-orgasm haze. The front door clicks as it closes.
I break our kiss and grin. “Casey’s home.” My door isn’t shut, but it’s not wide open either.
