Marcus curses.
Of course he’s not happy. But our mood has already soured, so why not finish opening this can of worms?
“Do you ever miss it?”
“Fucking Taylor?” His face closes up. “No.”
“I meant sharing a woman.”
He shakes his head. “Josh, man… Don’t do this. We tried, and we got crushed. She nearly ripped out my fucking heart—”
“Mine, too. I’m not saying I miss Taylor anymore.” Seeing her today was just another slap in the face. “But I still want a woman who accepts us both. One I can take care of. Taylor would never let me, not the way I need.”
Marcus slants me a stare. “Dude, you should have seen that coming. Not many women are going to.”
“I wasn’t the only one with misgivings. You rationalized yours away, too.”
“I did,” he admits. “I should have listened to my gut. I knew she was intellectually lazy.”
A huge sin in Marcus’s eyes.
“I just didn’t see the coward part coming.” He tosses back more of his beer.
“You’re right.” We were drunk on sex and love, on the dizzying heights of passion neither of us had ever felt. “I still think about that winter a lot. I miss it.”
“The two of us sharing a woman long-term was never going to work.”
“Maybe not with Taylor, but have you ever wondered if—”
“Drop it.”
I don’t. “She just wasn’t the right woman? Maybe—”
“No.” He stands. “When it ended, you and I did an extensive post-mortem. We both agreed we’d been reckless and stupid. Sure, women love the fantasy of fucking two men, but settling down? Her friends, family, and coworkers would have forever regarded her as something between a freak and a whore. Women don’t want to live that way. The only alternative is for one of us to be the dirty little secret. Neither you nor I deserve to be shoved in a closet. And what happens when she gets pregnant? Can you think of a single woman who wants to field the questions that would come from that?”
Deep down, I know he’s right, but… “I haven’t been happy since we all split up.”
I miss the connection, the closeness and excitement, the sense of belonging to something bigger than me. Who knew that giving Taylor a two-carat diamond and asking her the most important question of our lives would be the beginning of the end?
Marcus scowls. “Get laid more.”
“I am.” Nearly every goddamn night. “It’s not working. I’m tired of nothing I do with a woman—except giving her orgasms—mattering. Shouldn’t life be about more?”
He tosses back the rest of his beer and throws down some bills. “Don’t get maudlin on me. Sharing Taylor was hot. I won’t lie and say it wasn’t the best sex of my life. But we got stupid, and we paid the price. The experience taught us a valuable lesson.”
“Be cautious with your heart?”
“No. Threesomes don’t work long-term. I’ve moved on. You need to do the same.”
As if to prove his point, Marcus turns back to the blonde and gives her a cocky tip of his chin. With her nipples poking the front of her tight sweater, she sends him a come-hither smile in return.
“You’re not listening to me. I’ve tried. I can’t.”
“Try harder.” He stands.
I grab his arm. “I’ve fucked every kind of woman since Taylor left—from petite to plus-size, from quiet to outgoing. Every race, every religion, every hair color, every—”
“I have, too,” he growls back. “We’ll find the right woman someday. I have to believe that. But individually. We won’t be sharing her.”