He runs a hand over his mouth as he takes a look back over his shoulder at Deacon. Deacon waves his hand like go ahead. Before Isaac has a chance to move, though, I take the permission and step up to him, putting my arms around him.
He immediately hugs me back, his nose digging into the side of my head where he inhales deeply. “I missed you so fucking much.”
“Me, too,” I say. “I’m so sorry I left. You deserve so much better.”
He rocks me in his arms, and I fit my arms snugly around his waist.
As usual, Isaac goes all in, never one to hold himself back. “Baby, I love you.”
I was ready for that. “I love you, too,” I whisper, glancing over at Deacon, really needing to know with a hundred percent certainty that he’s okay with this.
But his face is as impassive as it nearly always is. He’s standing, though, and walking toward us.
“Now can I touch you?” he asks, as Isaac and I loosen our hold.
“If you guys are sure?—”
“We’re sure,” they say in unison.
I let go of Isaac with one arm, leaving enough room for Deacon. He crowds in, holding us both.
And then we’re kissing. All of us. It starts with Isaac’s lips on my cheek and Deacon’s on my forehead. I turn toward Isaac, finding his mouth with mine. I feel Deacon’s rough breath against my cheekbone, and then I’m turning toward him. We take turns like we’ve been doing it our whole lives. It turns out, there are a lot of ways to kiss a person, and only one of theminvolves tangling tongues. As Isaac devours my mouth, Deacon moves from his neck to my cheek until I’m kissing him and Isaac is gripping the back of my head to suck on my earlobe.
When I need a breath, Deacon makes a low noise that seems to signal Isaac to start kissing him instead, and I run my fingers through his hair while I fall into Isaac’s clean-smelling neck. It feels very much like they’ve been waiting for me, and I couldn’t have asked for a more reassuring greeting.
Isaac is the first one to pull away, putting a hand on each one of our faces. “I feel like we should talk,” he says.
Deacon and I share a quick look. I nearly grin, but Isaac is right, and I’m the one with all the explaining to do.
“I’ll be going back to LA on Monday,” I tell them. “But I wanted to see you. And tell you I’m ready. Really ready.”
“From LA?” Isaac asks with a whiff of desperation that I swear only makes himmoreattractive.
“For now. Yes.”
“Okay.” He breathes, worrying a lock of hair on the back of my head in his fingertips.
“Do you two need to be alone?” Deacon asks. He’s holding my hand, his fingertips moving through the minuet on my palm with faint pulses of pressure.
I look at Isaac.
“It’s up to you,” he says.
I shake my head. “You get a say, too.”
“How are you?” he asks. “How’s the job? Do you like being back in LA?”
I take that as a no to being alone, but if we’re gonna talk, we should get more comfortable than standing in between the foyer and the living room. “Let’s sit.”
Deacon pulls me to the couch and before I know what’s happening, he’s dragging me onto his lap, arms locked around my waist. Isaac sits next to him, gathering up my legs anddraping them across his lap. I can’t argue too much about the position because I’m able to see them both, but I’m not exactly dainty, and it feels a little ridiculous. “Guys,” I laugh.
“Answer my questions,” Isaac insists as he tightens a hand around my calf.
“The company’s running great. I’ve mostly been working on my software, which lately means I don’t get out much.”
“Good,” Isaac says.
I smile faintly.
