On Tuesday evening, Auggie cooks stuffed peppers and savoury rice. It’s amazing, like everything else he’s cooked for us. Afterwards, we snuggle on the sofa. After taking turns kissing me, Em and Auggie lean across me and make out for a few moments. It’s the most they’ve done in front of me. I’m okay with it, even though I don’t understand what they get out of it.
“Are we all good with carrying on as a triad?” Auggie asks.
“Why wouldn’t we be?” Em asks.
“No reason. I know we agreed we’d talk rather than have scheduled check-ins, but this feels like a good moment to make sure we still want the same thing.” He glances at me.
He’s probably thinking about my wobble on Sunday. Em was right. My insecurities haven’t gone away overnight, but I’m doing my best to believe that they need and want me as much as each other. Being close to each other helps.
“Yes to the triad.” The warmth and eagerness in Em’s voice are palpable.
Auggie strokes my wrist. “Casey?”
“Yes. I’m still nervous about everything, but I’m getting there.”
“We’re doing okay figuring out how this dynamic is going to work for us,” Auggie says.
“Together,” Em agrees.
I twirl my finger over the back of his hand. “There is something I’d like to try.”
“Oh?”
“French kissing.”
“Really?” Em slaps his hand over his mouth.
“It’s fine. You’ve got every right to be surprised.”
“Don’t feel you have to. We don’t need you to kiss us that way. I know I got carried away when we kissed at the bus station. I shouldn’t have done it, and I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing something you don’t want to,” Auggie says.
I wave my hand. “I don’t. I don’t get a kick out of watching you guys do it, but maybe it would be different if I were the one being kissed. Or not. I might hate it, but I’d like to try.”
I remember how I pulled back when Auggie tried to French kiss me in the bus station that day. Was it because I wasn’t expecting it, or because subconsciously I knew I wouldn’t like it? I won’t know unless I try again.
“As much as I’d like to make out with you, Auggie is the better kisser,” Em says.
“I don’t think that’s true,” Auggie says.
“You have more experience.”
“True, but you’ve been getting lots of practice.”
Em blushes. “Also true, but experience trumps practice.”
Following their conversation is like watching a game of ping-pong. Who is going to let the ball go off the table first as they keep debating which of them is the better French kisser?
“Um,” I say, drawing their attention to me. “I’m sure you’re both great at it. Maybe I could try with both of you? Not at the same time. Would that even be possible?”
“If you like making out, we could find out.” Auggie waggles his eyebrows.
“If. You seem to enjoy it. A lot.” But they enjoy everything they do that I don’t see the point in. “I’ve joined a couple of ace forums. This isn’t me changing the subject, by the way.”
Em stares at me. “You have?”
“Yes. I thought it might help.”
“Has it?” Auggie asks.
