Luke
“Shh,” Isaac points to Emma, sleeping peacefully between us.
I can’t believe how well our night together went. Initially, I had my concerns about getting naked with my best friend. Maybe, getting naked isn’t exactly what I was worried about.
Now that I think about it, it’s the nature of our nudity. I’ve never seen him, or thought about him, having sex.
Aside from discussing women we’re dating- we’ve never eventalkedabout sex. I never thought I wouldeversee him, painfully hard, while I send my hips deep into the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.
At first, my heart thumped hard with nerves, but I relaxed quickly. Maybe it was Emma, maybe it was the fact that I know Isaac like the back of my hand and could tell he was nervous too.
I wonder, if Emma had asked me to do any of that with a stranger, would I have been able to? Or was it the fact that Isaac feels safe to me?
Either way, it was one of the wildest things I’ve done in a while, and I can’t believe it was just last night. Emma’s bed is slowly becoming a familiar place.
Her amazing curves fit perfectly, sandwiched between Isaac and I.
“Do you always sleep in this late?” Isaac smiles, knowing how I’ll react with an eye roll and a chuckle.
He’s still messing with me. That’s a good sign.
“Should we wake her up?”
“No need, I’m up. Coffee’s ready!” Emma says as the smell of fresh coffee fills the air.
She hops out of bed, grabbing a robe before bolting to the kitchen.
“How the hell?” Isaac shoots me a confused look.
How is it that he’s a year younger than me but acts decades older?
“It’s called an automatic timer, knucklehead. You can program your coffee maker to start making coffee at a certain time every day.”
The two of us get out of bed, shuffling. We find clothes quickly, before finding Emma in the kitchen, shoving bagels and bacon inside the oven, and hovering lovingly over a mug.
Can she be any more perfect?
The three of us eat breakfast together. Even the small act is exciting because Emma gets to see our dynamic. Sadly, we don’t get to enjoy the moment much longer because our shift starts soon.
We head back to my place to - at the very least - clean the smell of sex off our ourselves.
“So, uh…” Isaac clears this throat as we head to work.
His long, blonde, hair is messy again, despite him brushing it after his shower. The ends are dripping on his shirt. He never dries his hair well enough.
“What do you think?”
“About what?” I ask.
“About France… aboutlast night!”
Laughter erupts in my car.
“It was different. I can’t lie, I was way more nervous than I thought I’d be.”
“Me too.”
“Emma seemed really relaxed and that helped,” I say.