Page 244 of Better When Shared
I blinked, sure I’d misheard. “What?”
“You heard me.” She leaned forward, eyes locked on mine. “This whole time, you and Ryker have been fighting, and I could feel the fabric of our friendship tearing. But in that one super sexy moment, I realized that there might be a way for me to have both of the men I want most without hurting either one of you. Because you care for each other, too. Maybe more.”
The implication hung in the air between us, carried on the salt wind. The possibility that had been forming in my mind since yesterday when Ryker had brought it up, the one I’d been too afraid to fully acknowledge, suddenly crystallized into something real and tangible.
“You mean...” I couldn’t finish the sentence, the hope too fragile to put into words.
“What if we don’t have to choose? What if we all work together, the three of us?” she asked.
I chewed on my bottom lip for a moment, then met her eyes with a sigh. “He said that, too. He wants that, too.”
Her smile was so bright it could have lit up the sky. “And you?”
“I’m... not sure. But I’m starting to see the possibilities.”
The orcas breached again in the distance, their synchronized dance a reminder of how beautiful it could be when separate beings moved as one. I watched them, heart hammering in my chest, everything I thought I knew about myself, about relationships, about possibilities, shifting beneath me like the restless sea.
I wondered if Skylar and Ryker were right, if we could find some sort of balance between the three of us. It had certainly worked in Legend of the Twin Blades. Shouldn’t that work the same in real life? Sure, my skill as a sniper was a little less useful, and Ryker’s stockpile of potions wouldn’t do us much good, but there must be some personality quirks behind our unique gaming strategies that fit in some essential way.
The wind whipped her hair across her face, and I reached out to tuck it behind her ear, my fingers lingering against her skin. For eight years, I’d imagined touching her like this. Now, withthe vastness of the ocean spread below us and her confession still echoing in my ears, I felt like I was standing at the edge of something far more terrifying than this cliff.
“How would it work?”
“I don’t know, I suppose we’d have to work out the logistics. Communicate. But I know it can work. It works for Makai. He’s in a throuple with a married couple—Imogen and Hamish—and they all love each other dearly. They balance each other out.”
“Balance,” I whispered, thinking about our gaming personas again. Each of us played a part on the team, and our strengths and weaknesses balanced each other.
“I’ve been dreaming about both of you for years. Separately at first, and then... not separately. When I realized polyamory was a thing. It was so wrong of me to be flirting with you both, but I couldn’t shake the thought that somehow we’d all fit.”
The confession sent heat spiraling through me, settling low in my belly. I found myself thinking of Ryker’s mouth on mine, his hands in my hair, the solid weight of him pressing me against the cabin wall. And Skylar watching us, her eyes dark with desire.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
I reached for her hand, our cold fingers intertwining on the blanket between us. The simple contact grounded me, a tether in the storm of possibility that threatened to sweep me away. Her hand was smaller than mine, but there was nothing delicateabout her grip—it was firm, certain, calloused from years of sailing and climbing.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I stepped off that seaplane,” I admitted, my voice rough with emotion. “Even when I was pissed at you for running away, even when I thought you preferred Ryker.”
A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “So what’s stopping you now?”
Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.
I leaned toward her, slow enough that she could pull away if she wanted to. My eyes searched hers for any hesitation, any doubt. Instead, I found only warmth and anticipation as her gaze dropped to my lips.
“Is this okay?” I whispered, close enough now that I could feel her breath on my face.
She answered by closing the final distance between us, her cold lips pressing against mine.
The first kiss was clumsy—her glasses bumping against my nose, our lips chilled and stiff from the wind, neither of us quite finding the right angle. But the imperfection of it, the realness of it, sent a surge of emotion through me that no choreographed kiss could have matched.
I pulled back slightly, adjusting the angle, my hand coming up to cradle her jaw. Our second attempt was better—her lips softening against mine, her hand sliding into my hair. Still tentative, still learning each other, but with a promise of heat beneath the surface.
When we separated, Skylar laughed—a bright, joyful sound that cut through the wind and made something tight in my chest unravel.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, unable to keep the smile from my own voice.
“Nothing.” She shook her head, looking up at me through her lashes. “It’s just—I’ve imagined this so many times, but reality is so much messier. And better. You taste like peanut butter and honey.”
“Your favorite sandwiches,” I said, grinning.
