“True.” I sighed. “How about takeout?”
“Sounds great. Indian or Chinese?”
“You pick.”
“Indian it is!”
As Meara went to go fish out a takeout menu from her kitchen drawer, she could still see how I stared at the quieted television. Those beautiful people on their beachfront date looked happy. Why couldn’t I have that? Why couldn’t I share wine with Vlad, cheese with Warren, and my blanket with Caleb? Why couldn’t they all hold a piece of me in their respective hearts?
“Stop pouting,” my sister insisted from across the room. “I might have wanted to date a vampire in middle school, but I never wanted a sullen ghost in my living room.”
“I’m just… conflicted. That’s all. It’s a lot to process.”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” my twin asked seriously.
“I could get fired. They could all hate me.”
Putting the threat into words made it real somehow, and that was worse. What was slowly coalescing in the back of my mind as a determination to bring all three men to bed with me died an unhappy death. I couldn’t risk it, no matter how great the reward.
“First off, no man would ever hate a woman for suggesting sex,” Meara told me. “They might say no, but they’ll be flattered. And secondly, what’s so great about the university anyway? I thought you told me once that you could make more in publishing, anyway. If your job is standing between you and happily ever after, change it. Even if you didn’t change careers, there are plenty of places that need research assistants.”
“Like where?” I asked.
“Libraries,” Meara suggested. “Online places. Other universities.”
“I just got here,” I complained. “I don’t want to leave Chicago again.”
If I left now, all this fretting would be for nothing. I couldn’t try to pursue three different men who all lived in a separate city from me.”
“There are colleges all over this city,” Meara pointed out. “Northwestern is just north here. Don’t knock it until you consider it, Mills.”
I sighed. It was an option.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think too hard,” she cautioned. “You’ll convince yourself not to do it.”
“Not to do what?” I couldn’t believe that she meant what I thought she meant.
“All three of them,” Meara replied with an impish grin.
“Come on, stop, that’s not what I mean when I talk about dating non-exclusively.”
Still, that didn’t make me forget my dream or the mischief flashing in my sister’s dark eyes. There was plenty of my body to go around, and if they were into it…. My eyes widened as I gulped back my wine.
“Have you ever been with three guys?” I asked Meara, suddenly curious.
“No,” she said. “But I’ve fantasized about it. What woman hasn’t? Obviously, you have.”
“Stop.” I blushed, following her footsteps into the kitchen.
Meara grabbed the red wine and topped off my glass before pouring herself one. We decided to let the conversation lie as Meara ordered dinner for us. After a good helping of curry and a couple of samosas, I was feeling much better. The fragrant dinner helped me focus on literally anything beyond my gentlemen. Plus, it helped to let someone in on my secret.
Maybe there was somebody else I should ask too.
Of all the people I knew, Breanna was the only one who would really understand. She was deep into a meaningful relationship with three amazing men, and I needed her counsel. With Meara watching some ghost hunting show, I slipped into my bedroom and shut the door. I knew it was late there, probably after midnight, so I wasn’t surprised to hear her voicemail.
“Hi there, this is Breanna, I can’t take your call right now, please leave a message,” the voicemail chirped in Bree’s bubbly voice.
There was so much I wanted to say and so much I wanted to ask. When we left things in Ireland, I assured her she was within her rights to pursue all her boyfriends equally. I needed the same good advice from her because for some reason, I wasn’t getting it from myself.
“Hey, Bree, it’s Millie. I won’t leave my long story here, but it seems you might not be the only one caught up with three different men. I could use your advice, so call me when you can. Thanks, love.”
Flopping onto my bed, I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling. Meara had given me a lot to think about, but there was still no definitive answer. If I wanted to move forward with the professors, I was going to have to get serious about it. I couldn’t let something like work get in the way of my long-term happiness. My job couldn’t keep me warm at night or fill those unmet needs still making my skin tingle and begging to be touched.
Fear couldn’t hold me back. If I was going to get a taste of everything I craved, I had to be bold. Like Meara said, what was the worst that could happen?