CORY
Donovan surprised me. Of the three of us, he was the most sensitive to what people thought. He wanted to run for office, and I assumed he would be interested in a traditional relationship. A steady girlfriend or even a wife would be much more in line with what he was trying to accomplish.
That he was willing to put it all aside for a chance to be with Petra spoke volumes. I’d selfishly thought I was making inroads to a monogamous situation, and the thought of sharing her with two friends was a little much.
After Patrick had upbraided us all for sniffing around his sister, I’d assumed my hopes would be shattered. But Petra had stood up for herself and made it known that she was interested in Gavin and Donovan as well.
They were close friends, and if I had to work things out with anyone in the world, I was glad it was the two of them. I examined my own feelings, discovering that I wasn’t as jealous as I thought. Sure, I would have preferred not to share, but it seemed like any attention from Petra was better than none.
I looked over at her and caught her eye. She looked stunned, almost as if she wasn’t expecting capitulation. We both looked at Donovan and saw he was waiting for an answer. I didn’t have one to give. The decision he was asking me to make was too big. I needed a moment to process all the information.
Looking around for a place to sit, I picked the loveseat. Gavin sat down on the couch, looking as worried as I was. Donovan frowned. I don’t know what kind of reaction he expected, but this probably wasn’t it. We were all interested in the same woman, and him being the bigger man and offering to share was unexpected.
Petra glanced from one man to the next, trying to get her bearings. She tipped the glass back, finishing off the whiskey in one shot. Her face changed from one of hopeful wanting to one of grim determination. She too had been looking for a different reaction from us.
“I’m going to bake,” she decided. “It helps me in a crisis.”
“I don’t think this is a crisis,” Donovan said, watching helplessly as she dove for the kitchen.
I stood up, intrigued. Of all the things I’d expected to happen, a baking session wasn’t among them. I had a few drinks in me. I knew Gavin had a few in him. I’d seen Petra drinking at the party and the glass of whiskey was barely down the hatch. We should be having it out, arguing at the top of our lungs.
A couple centuries ago, the three of us might settle the conflict with a duel. The winner would take Petra and walk away with his life. But back then, none of us would have survived a fight with Patrick, and Petra wouldn’t have been so open about her desire for all three of us. No, it was a good thing we were in the twenty-first century.
Petra opened cabinets both above and below the counter, searching for whatever it was she needed. Apparently dismayed by the lack of cooking implements in Donovan’s kitchen, she muttered under her breath. Finally selecting a large salad bowl and a cereal spoon, she went to the refrigerator.
Beside me, both Donovan and Gavin crowded into the doorway to watch. We were like three drunk frat boys staring at a model who had wandered into our dorm. She wasn’t dressed provocatively. A pair of jeans and a plain T-shirt gave us the outline of her figure but none of the skin we were each lusting after.
Petra focused on her task, ignoring us. She pulled out a pint of milk, a carton of eggs, and a stick of butter. Rooting through the cabinets again, she found salt and sugar.
“Do you have any flour?” She turned to Donovan.
“No,” he said.
“What about baking mix? Like pancake mix?”
“Yeah.” Donovan twisted his way out from between me and Gavin, going to the pantry.
Petra inhaled sharply, the sound joyful. She nearly pushed Donovan aside to examine the contents of this new supply of ingredients. Selecting a box of pancake mix, a box of cereal, and some chocolate chips, she returned to the counter.
“Do you need help?” I asked, pushing my way into the kitchen.
“No,” Petra snapped in a tone that made me break off all objections.
“Come on,” Gavin said, pulling me away. “Let’s leave her to it.”
The three of us converged in the living room, a bit stunned from all the excitement. I looked at Donovan with new eyes. He was the one with the most to lose through a nontraditional relationship. It wasn’t like he had committed to anything, but he’d opened the door for whatever the rest of us were interested in pursuing.
Petra was obviously conflicted. She buried her nose in her mixing bowl and turned her back on the rest of us. I turned to Gavin, the only sane one left. He had his back to me, admiring the view out the window.
“Are you sure you don’t care?” I asked Donovan, trying to gain a better understanding of the situation.
He shrugged. “I like her, you like her. Why does anyone have to win?”
“Because…” I started, but then stopped myself. Someone had to win because that’s the way the world worked. Men and women didn’t fall in love with groups of people. There had to be only one true love. But as soon as that thought surfaced, I pushed back.
We were all competent individuals, capable of making our own decisions. And if I wanted to be with Petra, did it matter if she was also with Donovan and Gavin? We were good friends; it would be just another thing we had in common. We could make it work, if that’s what she wanted to do.
I looked at Gavin, wondering where his head was at. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if it could work. Donovan was willing to try, and Petra didn’t like one of us more than the others. Remembering the scene in Patrick’s apartment, all she’d said was that she had kissed me and Donovan. She didn’t mention anything about her plans for the future.
Gavin shrugged. He didn’t know what to do any more than I did. I wanted to have the discussion, to hear what everyone was thinking. We needed to put all our cards on the table. I was tentatively leaning toward what Donovan had said, that I wouldn’t mind dating Petra even if the others were doing it too. But I wasn’t sure of myself enough to say it yet.
Looking back at the kitchen, I heard the oven door swing open. There was a struggle, and then Petra’s voice filled the air. “You have a plastic turkey in here.”
“Oh shit.” Donovan got to his feet and hurried to help her. “I don’t do a lot of baking,” he said as he disappeared behind the partition.
“She’s something, isn’t she?” Gavin asked.
I swung my gaze back to the windows, not answering. If we were really going to do this thing, it might be amazing. Petra had so much energy, I had no doubt that she could handle three men. Suddenly I found myself excited to be one among several she had her eye on.