Maybe they'll get tired of me and ask me to move out so they can hire a new live-in girlfriend. Or maybe I'll have earned enough money that I'll be able to afford living on my own again.Obviously not in as big a house as we live now, because that would be lonely, as I've recently learned. But a small apartment designed just for me.
"How could you fail so hard at pinball?" Lionel asks Ethan now. "The game is like a hundred years old."
"You game for a living," says Quintin, "and that machine only had two buttons."
"You're supposed to be good with your fingers," Lionel teases.
"I told you," Ethan grouses, "the buttons were sticky. It wasn't my fault."
"A likely story." Quintin laughs as he unlocks the front door.
"All of my winning has me starving," says Lionel as we file inside. "What are we thinking for dinner?"
"Noob! Are you angling to get Clarissa to cook us dinner on a date day?" asks Quintin.
"What? No." Lionel looks at me, panicked. "I wasn't. I swear."
"Sorry to break the news to you," I say, stepping in to relieve his worry, "but I can't help cook dinner. I'm heading out to The Moat tonight. I just came home with you to switch bags."
All three of my boyfriends stop their bickering to stare at me as I step onto the stairs, prepared to leave them in the front hallway.
"Where are you going?" asks Lionel.
"It's Thursday," I say, taking the next step. At their blank stares I add, "Critique group?"
"Ah yes, okay." Ethan nods. "We usually have a game or training session about now."
"So, uh." Quintin looks around the hall uncertainly. "What do we do now, then?"
"Cook dinner for ourselves?" asks Lionel.
Ethan rolls his eyes and heads toward the kitchen, so I jog upstairs. Grabbing my cute bird bag, I throw in my planner, highlighters, pens, and the marked-up copies of my partners' chapters. At my bedroom door, I remember my wallet and turn back to my desk to fetch it from my purse. My train card will be helpful. My credit card too.
As soon as I hit the first floor, I can hear arguing from the kitchen. I could sneak out the front door and leave them to their own problems, but my feet have other plans.
"Is there a problem in here?" My boyfriends seem to be having a heated conversation, but I can't tell what about.
"No, not at all," Lionel says, too quickly.
"Yup, no problem here." Quintin wraps his arm around my shoulders and leads me to the front door. "Have a wonderful time at your critique group."
"We'll see you later," says Ethan, following.
Both Quintin and Lionel give him a sharp look.
"When you get home," he adds.
"Have fun." Quintin gives me a kiss on the cheek before opening the door.
Now I'm not sure if it's a good idea to leave. Something is definitely going on, but I don't know what. Or how worried about it I should be.
"Bye." Lionel takes advantage of my pause to kiss me goodbye too.
I've kissed two of them, so it's only fair that I kiss the third. I go up on tiptoe to kiss Ethan goodbye, then head out the door. If they don't want to share their problem, I shouldn't press. Although I'd thought that after the last couple of days, we'd grown closer and they'd start to let me in a little. But I guess we're not there yet. Maybe we never will be.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I'm glowing after the praise Maddie and Angela have lavished on my chapter for this week. I might just be getting the hang of this spicy romance thing after all. Although to be fair, I'd looked over their notes from last week and specifically checked this chapter so see if any of that advice would apply here too, then fixed it.