"Yeah," I breathe.
We share the dessert, three forks meeting mine in turns, and there's something intimate about it. About all of us sharing from the same plate, tasting the same flavors, existing in this small space together.
"I want to take you to the hardware store after hours," River says suddenly. "Teach you woodworking. Just us."
"I want to show you the Christmas lights," Seth adds. "Take a drive through town when everything's lit up. Maybe... maybe park somewhere and talk."
"I want you back in my studio," Grayson says against my ear. "Want to finish what we started. Want to make you scream my name where no one can hear."
I can't breathe. Can't think past the three different futures they're painting, the three different ways they want me.
"Okay," I hear myself say. "All of it. I want all of it."
River's grin could light up the whole restaurant. Seth looks like I just handed him the moon. Grayson's hand slides higher on my thigh, a promise of more to come.
"Then let's get you home," River says, signaling for the check. "Before I forget we're in public and do something that'll get us banned from this place."
The drive back to Honeyridge Falls is torture.
Grayson pulls me against his side in the backseat, his hand never leaving my thigh. Every bump in the road presses us closer together. Seth keeps glancing back from the passenger seat, his scent thick with want. River's knuckles are white on the steering wheel, like he's using every ounce of control not to pull over and climb into the back with us.
"You're quiet," Grayson murmurs against my temple.
"I'm thinking."
"About?"
"About how this is supposed to work. If we're doing this—really doing this—how does it actually work?"
"However we want it to," River says from the front. "There's no rulebook, Bea."
"But what if one of you gets jealous? What if I spend more time with one than the others? What if?—"
"Then we talk about it," Seth says, and there's determination in his voice even though I can see his hand fidgeting with his napkin. "We're all adults. We can use our words."
"Even when it's uncomfortable?"
"Especially then." He meets my eyes, and despite the anxiety I can see in the tension of his shoulders, there's sincerity there. "That's the only way this works. Honesty. All of us."
We pull up to my house. The porch light is on, but the living room is dark—my family having apparently decided to give us privacy.
All three of them walk me to the door.
"Thank you for tonight," I say, turning to face them. "For dinner and for... everything."
"Thank you for saying yes," River says. "For giving this a chance."
"Can I..." Seth hesitates, his hand coming up to touch his badge—that nervous habit of his. "Can I kiss you goodnight?"
There's something vulnerable in the question, like he's still not quite sure he has the right to ask. Like he's afraid I might say no.
"Please."
He steps close, cupping my face with both hands, and kisses me slow and thorough. Different from the desperate kiss at the festival—this one is full of promise and patience and barely restrained want. When we break apart, his pupils are blown wide.
"Goodnight, Bea," he says, his voice rough.
River goes next, and his kiss is confident, demanding, making me rise on my toes to meet him. "Sleep well," he says when he pulls back. "Dream about me."
