Chapter 6

Chapter

Six

SILAS

The table in this hotel room isn’t meant for three, even if one of them is sitting on their husband’s lap. Ava perches on Huck’s thighs, her back against his chest and her legs draped over each of his. Not even the mind fuck of this day can keep my eyes from constantly straining to catch a glimpse of her under the belted folds of the complimentary hotel robe. When she climbed from the bed earlier, I swear the sight of her spectacular rack jiggling with every step just about turned my balls inside out.

“You got a one-track mind, boy.” Huck smirks, catching the way I ogle her.

“If you had this view, you would, too.” I can’t help the grin that fights free when I realize, after all these years of suppressing the filthy fantasies of Ava and Huck Anders, I’m finally free to unleash them.

My brain boggles thinking of all the time we could have had together if I’d had any inkling they were into me, too. Then again, I can’t imagine they were much enamored with the shitshow I was for the first few years I knew them. Yeah, it’s probably a good thing there was nothing between the three of us back then.

I mean, maybe, I’m getting ahead of myself, thinking this could actually be something. Not only are they’re married and way older than me, but there’s reality their son is my best friend. Jameson’s gonna punch rainbows if this becomes a thing for real.

“Eat all your breakfast, and you can have a turn holding Ava while I eat. If you want,” Huck offers.

If I want? The way my dick thumps inside my borrowed sweats has my eyes nearly crossing with how much I want. The look on my face must be obvious, because Ava chuckles and reaches across the table to swipe a tater tot hashbrown from my plate.

“Let me help you so you’re done quicker.” She winks. Winks! I’m gonna nut my pants. I know it.

The two of us dig into our food, and Ava sneaks Huck bites from her plate until both are empty. As soon as my last forkful of eggs is swallowed, he lifts her to her feet and pats her on the ass.

“Go sit on his lap before be explodes into a cloud of horny glitter, Angel. We can talk while I eat.” He smiles and points his fork at me as she circles the table to settle on my legs.

“No coming until after we talk.”

It’s an order my body struggles to obey. I lie to myself that it’s because I haven’t gotten my dick wet since before rehab, but I know it’s really because of her. And him.

“Talk fast then.” I’m not even embarrassed by the way they both chuckle.

“What’s your biggest concern right now? Let’s tackle everything one worry at a time, so it’s all manageable,” Ava suggests. It’s such a caring approach to handling my problems, making me feel less alone in the things I’m scared of.

Both of them have been there for me so many times since I met them. It’s selfish of me, but I never stopped to wonder why. I just accepted their care as part of being Jameson’s bandmate. Waking up in bed with them today has opened my eyes in a lot of ways. I’m questioning things I never thought to.

Logic suggests I should ask for details about what happened last night. I’m unsure I’m ready to tackle all of that just yet, though. As much as the answer terrifies me there is one thing I have to bring up before this goes any further,.

“I don’t want to ruin your family.” Knowing what it’s like not to have family makes me protective of the close relationship Jameson has with his. Protective and jealous. As big as these my for Ava and Huck are, I need to know they’ve got a plan to make sure this won’t hurt Jameson.

“Boy, caring about you would never hurt our family. You’ve already been a part of us for years. Now, we’re just…” Huck pauses, thinking of what to say.

“Changing the parameters,” Ava supplies. She threads her fingers through mine and stretches our hands across the table to Huck’s. The circular table is so tiny it’s no reach at all for him to cover our tangled fingers with his massive palm.

“Exactly. We’re not ruining anything. Just changing the shape.”

They wait patiently while I digest things. Huck quietly continues eating his breakfast until I’m ready with more questions. With each thing I ask, one or the other of them answer. Honestly. Sincerely. Even the nosy questions about whether they’ve always had an open marriage.

“Open is a bit of an oversimplification.” Ava squirms in my lap. It’s probably a nerve-wracking topic for most people, but with the life of excess and hedonism I’ve lived, there’s pretty much nothing they can tell me that I’d judge them for.

When Huck explains how he enjoys sharing Ava with men he’s selected, Ava interrupts to add that she likes watching Huck be with them, too. My dick thumps at the fantasy of Ava watching Huck pound into my ass, and it makes her giggle.

“I think you like that idea.” She wriggles around until she’s straddling my legs, faced away from me in the same position as she’d been in while sitting on Huck’s lap.

“I like it a little too much. Which I think you can tell, minx.” If I liked it anymore, I’d cream my pants like a hormonal teenager.

“So, do you like, bring someone home from a club and hook up for the night? How does it work?” I don’t really want to know, because jealousy is an unattractive look. But I still ask.

“Sometimes,” Huck answers slowly, as if he knows this is treacherous water. As if he doesn’t want to hurt me and knows how quickly I’ll mark this down as a meaningless hook up, so as to guard my heart, if he admits they do this all the time.

“We haven’t had a third, even for a night, since you finished rehab,” he continues. “We couldn’t bring ourselves to fool around anymore when we’d finally found the man we wanted to keep.”

“Then why…” I’m afraid to fully accept what he’s saying.

“You weren’t ready. Too young. Too unsettled,” Ava answers, understanding without explanation.

“Too fucked up, you mean.” Bitter regret tastes foul on my tongue. I could have had them in my life this way, if I hadn’t been such a fuck up.

“Boy, that’s not what she said at all. Plain speaking, you weren’t ready for a committed relationship then, and you know it. The whole thing would have crashed and burned. And then it would have been hard on you. On Jameson. The band.”

“It still might. After last night, you can plainly see I’m still a shitshow.” Pessimism isn’t my usual vibe, but I can’t help but worry and feel a little sorry for myself.

Sobriety hasn’t been easy. Rehab was hard, especially because, in treatment, everybody’s trying to claw their way out of a hole at the same time. Going from disregarding every rule the law and society makes to the regimentation of a detox facility is a culture shock. Add in a couple dozen other addicts, all trying to make the same adjustment, and it’s a fuckall of bad times.

Then the therapists and counselors decide when the tools are learned and the detoxing is complete, and that’s the magic wand of graduation from rehab. Only the urges remain. The need for escape. But additionally, there’s now an added weight of expectations from people who care that the addict doesn’t slip. Doesn’t let them down. Again.

“That wasn’t your fault, Si. I refuse to let you shoulder the blame. You drank from a water bottle handed to you by one of the hospitality crew workers. Not. Your. Fault,” Huck practically growls.

“Still, I’m an addict one step away from a relapse at any moment. You and Ava should stay far away from me, so I don’t drag you down with me.” Self pity, thy name is Silas.

“Jameson told us you tried to quit, so they could replace you. We thought he was exaggerating. He wasn’t, though, was he?” Ava asks.

I shake my head. I tried to get the guys to find a new guitarist, but they’d flat out refused. I bet when Jameson finds out I’m hooking up with not one of his parents, but both of them, he’ll regret not letting me quit back then.