“Do you want to sit? Or go upstairs? Or leave?”
I stop and listen inward. The sound, the colour, the promise of upstairs. The knowledge that I can, at any point, call a full stop.
“I want to see the third floor,” I say. “Then I’ll decide.”
Chapter 12
Jacob
The third floor is quieter in a different way.
The lighting is dimmer here, gentle rather than murky. The walls are painted in rich, dark colours, punctuated by more street art style murals, some of them featuring exotic birds and other hybrid creatures, like mermaids and centaurs. There are doors along the corridor with small plaques indicating what lies beyond:Lounge. Group Room. Bedroom A, B, C.
As we pass one open doorway, I glimpse a couple curled up together on a bed, fully clothed, just holding each other and stroking each other’s arms while soft music plays. Another room contains three people tangled together, but the door is mostly closed, so I don’t linger.
I also notice, with a small surge of approval, a sign on the wall:All genders welcome. All bodies honoured. No assumptions.
Jay appears at the end of the corridor, chatting with a person in a satin robe and bold lipstick. They lift a hand in greeting.
“Bedroom C’s free if you want it,” they call. “Good playlist in there. I made it myself.”
Tippi bites her lip, looking at me. “Do you want privacy?” she asks. “Just us?”
I think of the first time I touched her, the trembling newness of it. Then I consider the electric current humming under my skin right now, augmented by our familiarity rather than stifled by it. And Marissa’s dark eyes. And the way my body is already reacting to the possibility of what the three of us could do together.
“I… think…” I take a slow breath. “I would like to try… more than just us. But only with people you trust. And only if they understand that this is… new terrain for me.”
“Of course,” Tippi says. “Marissa is one of my favourite humans on the planet. And she’s very,verygood at new terrain.” She flashes a quick grin, then sobers. “We’ll go slow. You lead, remember? If you freeze, we stop, straight away.”
I nod, heart pounding, but feet carrying me toward Bedroom C anyway.
Inside, the room is mostly bed, larger even than a super king. A wide, low platform piled with cushions and soft blankets takes up most of the space. There’s a low shelf with bottled water, condoms, and lube. A small speaker in the corner plays something slow with moaning cellos.
Marissa slips in behind us, closing the door with a quiet click. The outside world narrows to the three of us, the low music, and the bed.
“So,” she says, leaning back against the door, eyes flicking between us. “Ground rules?”
“Yes, please,” I say gratefully.
Tippi hops up onto the edge of the bed, dress riding higher on her thighs. “OK. Jacob is new to group stuff. We’re going at his pace. Anything we do has to be a yes for all three of us. No surprises. Jacob, do you want to tell Marissa your boundaries?”
I lick my lips, suddenly acutely aware of my own tongue. “I, um… I don’t want to be touched by anyone without asking first. I’d prefer not to be restrained. I don’t mind being watched. I’m… OK with kissing and… more,” my brain edits frantically, “but I might need to stop abruptly if I get… you know. Overwhelmed.”
Marissa’s expression is serious, attentive. “Thank you for telling me,” she says. “I’m OK with kissing, touching, oral, and penetrative stuff if it feels good for everyone. I don’t want pain play tonight; I’m here for softness. If at any point you’re uncomfortable with how I’m touching Tippi, or how she’s touching me, tell us. You’re not ruining anything.”
“Traffic lights?” Tippi suggests. “Green, amber, red?”
“That would be useful,” I agree.
Marissa smiles. “Green means more, amber means slow down or check in, red means stop and regroup. And, just to be obnoxiously clear: a ‘maybe’ is not a green. A shrug is not a green. A ‘suppose so’ isnot a green.”
“I love how much of a consent snob you are,” Tippi teases, her approval clear.
“The snobbiest,” Marissa says proudly.
The nervousness is still there, but it’s layered now with something molten. The fact that we’re all talking like this, carefully, openly, makes me feel safer because it’spossibleto speak this way.
“Jacob,” Tippi says softly. “Do you want to kiss me?”
