He bit down on his lower lip and looked from me to the pastry display case. “Actually, I’m feeling sinful. I shouldn’t, but I’m going to have a cinnamon roll.”
“Cinnamon roll, my favorite.” I strutted around the counter. “I like a good glaze every now and then,” I said, fluttering my eyebrows.
I caught a glimpse of Cindy. Her eyes and her mouth were open wide. I winked at her while I bagged the roll.
Again, we watched him walk down the sidewalk until he was out of sight. Then Cindy turned to me and said proudly, “Damn, I didn’t think you had it in you. I’m impressed.”
I was impressed with myself, too. “Hey, if those Marines want to play games, that’s fine with me. Just as long as they understand: I’m not the toy.”
Cindy congratulated me on my new attitude. I was feeling pretty good about myself. But the celebration came to an abrupt halt when…
...Taylor walked in.
The real Taylor. The Taylor in T-shirt and jogging shorts.
“Hello Gwen,” he said very casually. “How’s it going?”
I just stared at him, mouth agape.
“You look surprised,” he said.
I pointed to the right where ‘Taylor’ in smart slacks and a pressed cotton shirt had just gone. “You… How…”
Taylor glanced over his shoulder at where I was pointing then back at me. “I was hoping to catch my brother, Tristan, but I’m guessing from that surprised look on your face that he beat me here.” A smile started to spread from his lips then he covered his mouth to hide his grin.
“Your brother, Tristan?”
Taylor nodded. “I couldn’t help thinking I might have been a bit too forward this morning. Anyway, when Tristan said he was coming by, I thought maybe I should be here, too. Unless you mistake him for me, which happens.”
I put a hand to my chin and closed my jaw. “I believe that it does.”
“I’m sorry I missed him,” he said. “How long ago did he leave?”
I put up two fingers. “Two minutes.”
He bit down on his lower lip, looked behind him then at the display case. “Are those banana muffins?”
I nodded. “Banana nut. I gave you one earlier today.”
“Uh, oh.”
“What do you mean, uh, oh?”
He smiled. “Did I come in here earlier and buy a banana nut muffin?”
I nodded. “And an apple cinnamon muffin. Do you have a problem with your memory?”
He shook his head. “No, but apparently my brother is having a problem with his diet.”
“Your brother, Tristan.”
He chuckled. “No, my brother Travis.”
I was upset at myself for not being able to tell the triplets apart. But more so than that, I was upset at myself for playing a game and playing it badly. When I told Holly about my day, she had a laugh. At first this only made me more upset, but then I had to admit she was right; it was funny, and I laughed along with her.
“Wow, triplets,” said Holly. “And they were hot?”
I nodded emphatically. “Very.”
“Please tell me you got a phone number, or three.”
I nodded. “Yes.” I raised my eyebrows. “I got all three, in fact.”
“Gwen.” Holly took a step back and looked me up and down as if I’d just slipped into a new gown. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but I like it.”
I smiled. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me, either. But I like it, too.”
“Actually, Taylor gave me his phone number and his brothers’ numbers, too. He felt bad about the confusion, didn’t want any hard feelings. I told him as long as I got the last word in, there was no problem.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
I pulled out my phone. “I’m going to send one of them, and only one of them, a sexy text. That way they’ll know I didn’t get played. I’m the one who’s playing them.”
“Sounds dangerous and mischievous,” said Holly. “I’m in.”
“For Travis, the one I was making those over-the-top innuendos with, how about”—I started typing—“Come in for a quickie any time. But don’t tell your brothers or…” I looked up at Holly hoping she could help me finish.
“Don’t tell your brothers,” said Holly, “unless you want to share.”
“That’s good.” I hit send.
“Did you really write that?”
I nodded.
“And you sent it?”
I nodded.
“What if they are into sharing?”
I frowned at her. “Holly it’s just a game.”
“Do they know that?”
5
Axel
I needed to talk to my sister, Alexa. I needed to talk to her about her private life, her sexual life. That was going to be difficult and awkward. She’d told me about how she had eight boyfriends at the same time, but of course she glossed over the details. Of course, when the squad would meet up, generally back at the apartment after dinner, the details are what they all wanted to know about.
Over the course of a few short, albeit eventful, days, our talk of sharing the same girl went from hypothetical fantasy to something that bordered on tactical planning.