Page 43 of Hard to Judge

Hota stares at me with questions in his eyes, while Arlo has that ever-endearing look of admiration in his.

“Let’s go!” I wave after them with the plates. “We don’t have all day.” Then I smile. “Actually, we do. Regardless, move it.”

The guys stand and reach for the glasses and utensils.

“No sirs.” My head shakes. “You have your jobs, hop to.”

“We can help,” Arlo tries.

“You cooked. I’ve got this.” I shoo him. “Now go.” I swing my gaze to Hota. “I want the comfiest pillow fort you’ve ever seen. Got it?”

His mouth opens, then closes. A bright smile morphs on his face. “I’ve never seen one.”

“Use your imagination.” I blow them each a kiss with no hands and head for the kitchen.

While I put the food into the sleek refrigerator built into the modern cabinets, rinse the dishes, and place them into the dishwasher, after I find it, I think about Arlo and Hota. The yearning and desperation between those two is so palpable and potent, I’m shocked I didn’t see it the first time they were in the same room together.

I was dealing with a few of my demons at the time, and Arlo was certainly wrestling with his. It’s amazing and so sad that they’ve been circling each other for so very long, unable to surrender to the commanding pull.

Sure, they’d found workarounds. Other people. Groups. Voyeurism. None of that can compare to true touch and genuine connection.

I want nothing more this Christmas than to give them that gift or at least foster its possibility. No part of me fears the consequences. That’s a testament to Arlo’s love. The way he loves me, wholly and completely, leaves no room for doubt.

The love he has for Hota doesn’t scare me. If the fuzzy, warm excitement in my chest is any indication, it gives me comfort.

I dry my hands and practically skip into the living room.

I stop cold. “Oh my god!”

The wall of windows in my office looks over the city, while this wall of windows seems to look over the entire world. I rush to the threshold and bite back a squeal. We’re so high up that everything below is specks. The clouds are close enough to touch, and the snow that slips through them…

“It looks like magic.” My words come out as a sigh.

“You are magic.” Arlo breathes against my neck. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and settles me against his chest. We stay that way for a few minutes, watching the sky dance and whirl.

His lips brush my head. “If you think that’s magic, you haven’t seen what Hota built you.”

I kiss his palm and let him turn me.

Words get caught in my throat. Hota’s T-shirt has lifted, exposing his lower back. His hair has fallen from its messy bun and hangs over his face and onto his shoulders as he stretches up onto his tiptoes. The perfect bulge of his biceps and shoulders stretch the confines of his shirt as he fastens the edge of a white sheet to the top of the masterpiece he’s created.

A part of it is secured to the wall, while the other end is attached to a coatrack, maybe. It’s covered on all sides like a luxurious tent. Pillows line the edges. I can see them peeking out from the edge of the sheet.

When Hota finishes, his arms drop to his sides. He smooths the hair from his face and takes a step back, scrutinizing his work.

“It’s perfect.” I don’t know why there are tears in my eyes. They’re happy ones for certain.

He turns to me and smiles. It’s enough to knock me off my feet. “You like it?”

“I love it.” I giggle. “It’s…This is the best.” I push from Arlo’s arms, grab his hand, and lead him to Hota. I grab his hand with my right and pull both their hands together. Their fingers slowly, hesitantly tangle, and I protect them on my own.

My gaze measures each man in turn. Joy and awe flow from them.

“When we go inside this magical pillow fort, nothing else exists. Not the past. Not the future. Not our fears or even our hopes. Today, in this place, we just are. We are Hota, Arlo, and Hailey. We are us.”

I pull their joined hands to my lips and kiss each of their woven fingers, touching my lips to their skin with every pass of my mouth. Then I straighten, release their hands, and dive under the sheet.

There’s no way to hold back my squeal.

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