“I’m really sorry,” Beth says, when I get back from the gym that evening. She called and told me about Cami, and I quit lifting weights right in the middle of my session. My trainer got pissy with me, but I don’t give a shit. I just wanted to see with my own eyes that Cami’s okay.

God, no wonder parents are exhausted all the time. Are they just permanently terrified something will happen to their kids? We literally have a hired professional watching our baby, and I still can’t stop my heart racing as I stroke Cami’s hot little cheek. She sniffles in her sleep, and I kiss her forehead.

“Not your fault,” I murmur.

“We could reschedule for this weekend?” Beth offers. “I’ll be off work then, anyway, so the timing would probably be better.”

I shake my head. “Jack and I are both going away this weekend. There’s a tech convention up in Edinburgh.”

She frowns. “Both of you?”

“Why so surprised?”

“Well, you don’t work, right? I figured, since Jack and Seb work weekends, you’d take over with Cami when I wasn’t here.” Her lips curve. “You’re gonna leave her all alone with Seb? He’ll probably forget about her in the middle of a conference call, or something.”

I drop my hand, hurt flashing through me. “Why do you think I’m unemployed?” She only met me a few days ago. Why would she assume that? Do I just exude lazy sponger vibes?

She looks taken aback. “Sorry, I didn’t realise you had a job. I just… I’ve been here every day for a week. And you’re usually napping or working out, or whatever.”

That hits me like a punch in the gut. She thinks I’m just a lazy layabout. That I lie around doing nothing all day.

She frowns. “It wasn’t meant to be an insult. There’s nothing wrong with not having a job, I literally just got one after a year of searching—” She trails off at the look on my face. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Cy.”

I bite my tongue. “It’s fine. Sorry.” I force myself to smile at her. “Yeah, I do public events for Trinity Games.”

“Why?” She looks confused. “You weren’t involved in developing the app, were you?”

“Nope. But I have a skill vital to the company that neither of the others have.” I pause for effect. “I’m sexy.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “He’s a performer,” he corrects, and I nod.

“At conventions, they have to give talks. Speak with investors. Maybe go on fancy dinners. Would you ever buy anything Seb tried to sell you? He has the social skills of Siri. And this nerd,” I jab my thumb at Jack, “has stage fright. He’d run right offstage if I wasn’t there to help him.”

Jack nods self-deprecatingly.

Beth looks disappointed. “Okay. Next week, then.”

“Nope.” I shake my head. “We can still do tonight. We’ll just have the date here. Leave it up to me.” Balancing Cami in the crook of my arm, I take Beth by the shoulder and nudge her towards the flat door. “Be back here at eight. Wear something pretty.”

She laughs. “It’s only six. My shift hasn’t finished yet.”

I shoo her away. “I’m letting you off early. Go home, before you get sick of us and decide to cancel.”

“But—”

“Go.”

When I finally convince Beth to leave, I settle Cami down, then head out to a local Italian restaurant to place an order.

Nerves bubble in my stomach as I wait at the restaurant’s takeout counter. Which is surprising. I don’t remember the last time a woman made me nervous. I don’t even remember the last time I took a woman on a date. I’m usually pretty easygoing when it comes to women; if I meet a pretty girl at a bar, and we click, then I’ll take her home. If she’s not interested, I move right on.

But Beth is different. I want to impress her. I want her to want me, as well as Jack.

God, it’s been over a year since we shared a girl. I forgot how much it turned me on. When I walked in on the two of them kissing, my dick practically turned to stone.

A server hands me my order, packaged up in a big paper bag, and I tip him absentmindedly, heading out into the sunny London streets. My thoughts wander as I walk home.

I was kind of disappointed that we couldn’t all go out tonight, but maybe it’s better this way. A formal date would’ve felt too romantic. I’ve learned the hard way that women don’t really want me for romance. I’ve tried to have real relationships in the past, but the general feedback seems to be that I’m good for sex, and that’s about it.

Which is fine. I’m good at sex. I like it. It’s more than enough for me.

So I’m not exactly sure why I go back to the flat and start setting the food I ordered onto plates on our living room floor. I don’t know why I’m covering the linoleum in blankets and cushions, or arranging electric candles, or pouring glasses of wine. I have absolutely no idea why I start the record player spinning a vinyl, and dim the lights to a low, ambient glow. All I do know is, when I’m done, the effect is even more romantic than a restaurant. The atmosphere doesn’t scream let’s have sex. It screams I really like you and want you to like me too.

Shit.

Jack steps out of his bedroom, dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a tight black t-shirt. Normally I’d gripe at him for not making an effort, but for him, that’s practically white tie. He surveys the room, his eyebrows raised. “Wow. You weren’t kidding about the date thing, huh?

I grunt, opening a packet of breadsticks.

“You know, she told me she didn’t do relationships.” He glances across the plates. “Maybe this is a bit much.”

“Does it look like I’ve dropped an engagement ring at the bottom of her wine glass? This isn’t a relationship, it’s just dinner.”

He worries his bottom lip. “I just don’t want to scare her away.”

I arrange the breadsticks in a bowl. “You like her. I like her. She likes us both. What’s the best outcome of tonight?” He doesn’t say anything. I sigh. “You can’t just drop a threesome on a girl. Especially since she’s our nanny. She might end up feeling… I don’t know, used, or some shit. Besides.” I unpack a box of olives, setting it on the blanket. “I get the feeling that she’s not used to people taking care of her. She deserves it, after spending the last week taking care of us. Don’t you think?”

“Of course I do,” Jack says. “I just can’t believe that you do, too.”

I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shakes his head. “Come on, Cy. This isn’t exactly how you treat your one-night-stands.” He tilts his head, studying me. “She doesn’t want a boyfriend. Don’t blow this into something it will never be.”

I glare at him, but before I can think of what to say, there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Jack calls, and Beth opens the door.

“How is she?” she asks, her gaze immediately going to Cami.

“The same,” I say, standing. “Check on her?”

She gives me a soft smile, stepping forward into the flat, and I can’t stop my eyes running down her body. She looks incredible. She’s dressed in a little white lace dress that trails down to her mid-thigh. Her red curls are pulled up behind her head in a soft bun, tiny tendrils hanging around her face, and she’s fastened a black ribbon choker around her slim throat. With her freckle-spangled skin glowing in the candlelight, she looks fucking angelic.

She crosses the room to Cami’s cot and checks her temperature again, then nods. “She’s fine. It would have to be a lot higher before we need to worry about a doctor.” She looks around the room, taking in the food, and I shift my weight, suddenly embarrassed.

“Wow,” she says softly. “This is incredible. Did you guys do all this for me?”

“It was all Cy,” Jack says, and I fight the urge to scowl at him. Beth looks up at me, her brown eyes gleaming like cinnamon under the soft lights. I don’t think I’ve ever met a redhead with brown eyes before. It’s a surprisingly striking combination: spicy and fiery and warm.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

I don’t know what to say, so I just grin, nodding to the picnic. “Are you hungry?”

She nods, twisting her fingers together anxiously. We sit down on the pillows, and Jack starts to pour the wine as I open up all the takeaway containers. Beth is stiff as we dole out the food, sitting ramrod straight. Her eyes keep flicking between me and Jack, like she can’t believe what’s happening.

I slide a hand over her shoulder. “Hey,” I say quietly.

She jumps. “What?”

“You’re all tense.” I squeeze her shoulders, feeling the stiff muscles ease under my hands. She leans into my touch, her body swaying into mine. The gentle scent of apples washes over me, making my mouth water.

“Sorry. I’ve just never been on a date with two guys before. It’s odd.”

“As far as I can tell, you’ve not been on a date in a while, period,” Jack points out, handing her a glass of wine. “Why is that, by the way? Are you getting over an ex, or something? Bad breakup?”

She hesitates. “I guess…” She swirls her wine thoughtfully, stalling for time. “I just don’t like who I am, when I’m dating someone.”

I frown. “What does that mean?”

“Like…” Heat rises to her cheeks. “I realised a few years ago that whenever I date someone, I end up changing myself to fit what they like. If they like quiet people, I talk less. If they like loud people, I get more bubbly. If they like football, I’ll learn to like it too. I replace all the things that make them happy, and I mould myself into that person. I don’t notice myself doing it, until we break up, and I realise that I’m nothing like the person that I was before. All of the things that I like and dislike just get swallowed up.”

I stay silent. That was the last thing I expected her to say. Beth’s sweet, but I certainly wouldn’t call her a pushover. She’s taken charge ever since she met us, and she’s had absolutely no problem telling off Seb.

Beth takes a gulp of wine, embarrassment all over her face. “It’s the part of myself that I’m most ashamed of. I’m like a chameleon. And I hate it. I hate that I’m not strong enough to just be myself. I hate that I’m such a people-pleaser that I’ll change my whole personality just to be liked; but for the life of me, I don’t know how to stop it. It just happens.” She shrugs awkwardly. “When I’m alone, I’m myself. I get to be me. So I think I’m better off alone. At least until I work out how to stay true to myself.”

“When did you last date?” Jack says quietly, reaching over to plop an ice cube into my wine.

“When I was twenty-two. So about four years.”

My eyebrows fly up. “Shit, Beth. That’s a long time.”

“Yeah.” She looks uncomfortable. “That’s what Benny keeps telling me.” She smiles weakly. “Even before that, I never really dated. I just met a guy and we sort of… fell together. I don’t think anyone’s ever done anything like this for me.” She waves over the food. “It’s really sweet.”

So I was right, then. She’s not used to other people taking care of her. The thought makes my chest ache. She spends all day looking after other peoples’ children, but she’s never had someone who wants to look after her.

An odd wave of emotion surges up in me. I want to be that person. The person cooking her dinner and massaging her feet and kissing her when she’s sad. I want to take care of her.

I crush the feeling down. I fuck girls. I don’t do emotional connections with them.

But God, right now, I wish I could.

“Okay.” I take a massive bite of pasta, then set my fork down, pushing my plate away. “Why don’t we play a game? Loosen you up. Since you’re so out of practice.”

She blinks. “Like, a drinking game?”

“Sure. Get to know each other better.”

“Truth or dare,” Jack offers, winding some spaghetti around his fork.

Beth perks up a little. “Okay.” She glances between us. “But this is kinda unfair. You’re both just gonna grill me. I’ll get twice as many questions.”

“We’ll take turns,” Jack offers, and she nods.

“I’ll start,” I decide. “Have you ever fantasised about fucking two guys at once?”

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