And I giggled then.
“Oh both of you are so silly,” I said coyly, looking up through my lashes. “Should I do that every time we’re together then? Make a big grilled cheese sandwich and bite into it to turn you guys on, get the engines revved?”
And the men grinned at me.
“Couldn’t hurt,” ground out Brent.
“Fuck yeah, sounds good,” added Jason. “While you’re at it, why don’t you coat your naked body with chocolate syrup and sprinkles too?”
And the comment made me laugh, lilting, melodic peals ringing through the empty diner, both men puffing their chests out, happy and proud.
“I love hearing you laugh baby,” began Brent. “It’s music to my ears.”
Jason just nodded.
“You’re sweet, Katy-Kat,” he growled, his eyes like lasers on me.
And with that, I smiled, my energy restored somewhat, feeling happy, hopeful about our future.
“This has been a lot to take in,” I murmured, “a lot to digest in a short amount of time. But I feel we can make it work,” I said slowly. “It can really happen, somehow, some way. I guess the Monday, Wednesday, Friday idea wasn’t the way to go, but we’ll think of something else,” I added with a rueful smile.
Brent nodded, taking my small hand and squeezing it once more.
“We will, honey, we will, because both of us,” he said, shooting Jason a meaningful glance, “want this to work. So we’ll definitely put in our best efforts and give it the old college try.”
I turned to Jason, eyes wide, inclusive, trying to drawn him in.
“Will you, Jason?” I asked softly. “Seriously?”
My foster brother groaned, seizing my other hand.
“Sharing is caring,” he ground out. “I never thought this would happen to me, but shit, I want you so bad …” his voice trailed off.
And I finished his sentence for him.
“You want me so bad, you’ll try right?” I whispered, looking deep into his eyes. “You’ll try, won’t you?”
And he nodded before rumbling in his throat, “Yeah, I’ll try.”
I took a deep breath then.
“Well, that’s settled … sort of,” I said, fingers drumming on the cheap linoleum countertop. Because nothing had been hammered out in detail, we’d agreed we were going to share, but the boundaries were unclear. When was I going to be with each man? Whose bed would I sleep in? Who could touch where, when? And so I decided to propose a waiting period, a time for things to sink in.
“Everything’s been so crazy lately,” I began slowly, “that maybe we should give it some time. What do you guys think about a waiting period, some quiet time before we start up … um, our relationship?”
The men were silent.
“Naw, not necessary,” rumbled Brent.
And Jason was the same.
“Fuck no,” he ground out roughly. “Because shit Katy, I need to touch you ….”
But his statement nailed it.
“That’s exactly why we should wait,” I concluded firmly. “We need some time without touching one another because the physical attraction is so strong between us that we can’t think clearly. Some alone time will give us an opportunity to digest, figure out if this is what we really want.”
And it sounded so adult, so mature, that even I was surprised by my words.