Page 118 of Dirty Like Dylan

How did my life suddenly become this good?

Not that it was so bad before, but seriously.

All three of us had already gotten the results from our blood tests back, and passed with flying colors. The guys had insisted to me that they were safe; that they always wore condoms, except with Kitty, whom they’d also been tested with. So that was good, I supposed.

Great, actually, because it meant I could fuck them both without condoms. Which felt so good it was kinda scary.

It went without saying that this was the best sex I’d ever had.

With anyone.

It still blew my mind, whenever I paused to think about it, that I was having sex with two men. And I didn’t feel weird about it. Maybe because they didn’t make me feel weird about it. They treated it like it was so normal that it put me at ease. Made me feel wanted, and safe with them.

Too safe.

In the back of my mind, I just kept wondering if I was gonna discover something about either one of them—or both—that would turn me off enough to send me packing. Unfortunately, the image of Johnny in that hot tub with all those naked chicks had burned itself permanently into my brain, and that feeling of utter shock and betrayal? It had left a little crack in the foundation of my trust that might never fully heal.

But so far, nothing scandalous had been revealed. No giant skeletons had come tumbling out of the closet. No naked chicks had suddenly appeared in the symbolic hot tub with my men.

So I just kept dating both of them—together.

And sometimes, separately.

It all just seemed to be working out a little too well.

How was dating two men, even if they were okay with it, ever going to work longterm? Just seemed like it was against the laws of nature somehow. Like things were bound to go wrong.

Stupid or not, I felt kinda greedy. There was more than enough hotness here to go around, and around. Many, many women could be enjoying Dylan Cope and Ashley Player—and definitely had, before I came along—and yet here I was, hogging them all to myself.

But they’d asked me to be exclusive, right?

Truth was, I’d just never been this lucky. And most of the time I didn’t know how to get my head around it and just plain enjoy it.

I really wasn’t sure what I was doing, at all. I was just kind of going along with what they’d asked me to do.

But officially, I was definitely smack in the middle of a ménage à trois. And the whole thing was starting to get under my skin. Starting to get to me.

Starting to mean something to me.

I hadn’t even told my sister all of what was going on. I’d told Liv it was just about the sex. Partly so she’d stop asking questions, because I knew she wouldn’t want more details on that.

But whenever I looked at Dylan or Ashley—like I was doing now, catching Ashley’s eye as he drove his boat, the wind whipping his dark hair back as he smiled at me… I knew it was about a lot more than just sex.

And maybe that was the only real problem.

Somehow, I’d ended up in a relationship.

And I really wasn’t sure how I was getting out of it with my heart intact.

* * *

My mom’s little old house was the same as it ever was. Every single thing in the exact same place.

Literally.

It had been this way for over twenty years. Since before my dad walked out.

I could understand, if you lost a child—like if your child died—how you might not be able to bear changing anything. How you might want to keep the child’s bedroom intact for years afterward; decades, even. That, I could understand.