“Yeah,” I yelled, checking my watch. Fuck, it was getting late. I had to pull myself together. “I’ll be out in a second.”
Straightening, I adjusted my stiff cock in the confines of my suit pants, willing the damned thing to limp the fuck out. Caroline did not want my boner stealing the limelight in her wedding pictures.
Another minute, and some deep breathing, brought my traitorous body back under control and I finally let myself out of the bathroom.
Frank stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his tie for the thousandth time. He watched me cautiously over his shoulder in the reflection. “Connor found your extra belt okay?”
“Yep.” I grabbed my suit jacket from the back of a chair and slipped it on. “No problem.”
Turning to face me, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I know you’re not going to lose your shit at my wedding.” He wore the indulgent smirk of a man well-satisfied with his life, and eager to pity us poor schmucks who had yet to attain his state of almost-wedded bliss.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Why, exactly, would I lose my shit?”
“Because you’ve been in love with my sister since you were eighteen and because she’s here with another man, while you’re all dateless and miserable.”
“I’m not miserable.” Quite the opposite actually. I was so goddamn happy my heart wanted to leap from my chest and dance the freaking tango.
“Caroline’s got a hot cousin,” he suggested with a sly grin. “I could introduce you at the reception.”
Snorting a laugh, I shook my head. “No, thank you.”
“Or if you’re after something from the male half of the buffet, there’s always Rodney.”
I ignored him, walking over to the now available mirror to make sure Gabi hadn’t messed up my hair. A shiver ran through me at the memory of her fingernails combing through the strands and my dick twitched anew. At this rate, I’d have to put a leash on it.
“Rodney’s one of the guys I work with,” Frank continued. “He looks straight as a metal ruler but, trust me, he gets gayer with every second drink.”
“Just what I always wanted, a sloppy blow job from a drunk who’ll freak out over it in the morning. I don’t think so.”
“But at least you know he won’t ask for your number,” he said with a laugh, before giving a shrug. “I’m only trying to help a brother out.”
A knock on the suite door interrupted our conversation. “Pretty sure I’m not actually in need of assistance,” I told Frank as I went to answer it, “but thanks for the offer.”
I opened the door to find a woman carrying a small box on the other side. “Hi there,” she said with a wide grin. “I’m here to deliver the buttonholes for the groom and the best man.”
“Perfect timing,” I told her. “I’ll try very hard to resist the urge to stick the groom with the pin.”
The baffled woman quickly left, and I was soon glaring at Frank’s lapel as I attempted to attach the small arrangement of flowers without crushing the red rose in the centre. “I can’t believe you’re about to become a married man.” Stepping back, I surveyed my work before reaching into the box for the second buttonhole. “Are you nervous?” I asked, handing it over.
“About fucking up my speech or falling on my face at some inopportune moment?” he responded as he concentrated on getting the pin in the right spot. “Hell, yes. But am I nervous about marrying Caroline?” The grin on his face didn’t require any words to back it up, but he said them anyway. “Not for a second.”
We were officially ready, but thankfully we still had about ten minutes before the photographer was due to arrive. Heading for the mini-fridge, I took out the two beers I’d tucked in there earlier in the day. “One last drink before you sign your life away?”
Frank rubbed his hands together. “Brilliant.”
We twisted the tops off, clinked and drank before taking a seat in a couple of armchairs before the floor length windows.
“You should give it a try some time,” Frank told me as he relaxed back into the overstuffed chair. “The whole love and commitment thing. Although, you’d probably have to give up the orgies.”
I choked on my beer, barely managing to avoid ruining my suit. “Orgies?”
“What?” he teased, a quirky smile on his face. “Threesomes are orgies. They’re just small ones, they’re mini-orgies.” He cackled in delight before adding, “Or, even better, they’re full-blown orgies, but with a low attendance rate.” I shook my head while he continued laughing his arse off.
“Either way, not every threesome I’ve had was a mini-orgy,” I reminded him. “Some of them were actual relationships.” Short-term relationships for the most part, but still… “It’s not like I haven’t tried to settle down but findingoneperson who loves you is hard enough. Try finding two of them. Oh, and they also have to love each other, and you have to fall in love with both of them. It’s a fucking nightmare.”
“Maybe it’s time you tried the one-on-one thing again,” he suggested, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
“Because coupledom always ends so well for me.” I’d stuck to dating one person, more than once. It worked for a while, but before long I’d start to get restless and find myself searching for a third. Someone who would complement both me and the person I was with. It was like my heart was split into three pieces, and I needed all three together to be complete. I didn’t understand it and attempts to explain it often resulted in me ending up single again. I wasn’t sure I’d ever find the permanence I was looking for. “You don’t think it’s possible for three people to love each other long-term?”
