I’m going to have to teach you some self-defense.”
“Forget self-defense. Let me go and you can have the food I brought you,” he bargains.
“Sold,” I agree, releasing him.
Riot reaches into the bag, passing out tacos to each of us, and then settles himself on the floor in front of the couch.
“You don’t have to sit on the floor.” I scoot to make more room on the couch.
“I’m good.” he waves me off and then unwraps his taco.
“Thanks for the food, B, I’ll pay you back,” I say.
“I told you, you don’t have to worry about it,” he insists for the millionth time.
“You’re letting me stay here and refusing help with rent, at least let me pay for my own damn food,” I grumble, well aware that my pride is likely getting the best of me. I’m sure the tacos didn’t cost much, but it’s the principle of the thing, dammit.
“Whatever makes you feel better,” he concedes, shrugging one shoulder and biting into his food.
I catch Riot’s eyes darting between the two of us, taking in our exchange, but he doesn’t say anything.
We talk and joke while we eat. Riot tells us about some of the funniest drunk people he’s dealt with as a bartender, and Bishop and I share horror stories from the summer we spent before our senior year working at this little ice cream stand called the Frosty Cone.
Once all the food is gone, Bishop brushes off his clothes to rid himself of any food crumbs and then looks at Riot.
“I’m tired,” he says, shooting Riot a flirty look that says anything but let’s get some sleep.
I’ve slept in Bishop’s bed the past few nights since our date. I slept there last night too, even though I didn’t expect him to come home from Hudson’s. I figured if he did come home, that would’ve meant things hadn’t gone well and he would’ve needed comfort anyway. But it seems like tonight I’m back on the couch. Surprisingly, I don’t find myself as jealous over it as I thought I might be.
Riot gets up off the floor and holds a hand out to Bishop. He hesitates for a few seconds, glancing over at me.
“Are you uncomfortable at all?” he asks.
“I’m good, B,” I assure him, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Before I can sit back, he grabs my hand.
“You know, this couch kind of sucks. If you wanted to join us…” He trails off, leaving the invitation hanging in the air. Does he mean it? Or does he just not want me to feel left out?
The idea isn’t unappealing. After all, Riot isn’t bad to look at, and obviously I’m crazy about Bishop. But I’m not sure I’m ready to go there with Riot. I hardly know the man. Maybe in the future, once we get to know each other a little better…
“Not tonight.” I squeeze Bishop’s hand and then let it go.
“As far as I’m concerned, it’s an open invitation.”
“And I certainly wouldn’t kick you out of bed,” Riot says, looking me up and down with exaggerated interest.
“Good to know,” I chuckle. “Night, B. Night, Riot.”
Bishop gives me a soft kiss on the lips, and Riot fist bumps me, and they disappear down the hall to his bedroom.
Once they’re gone, I find myself too restless to sit and watch TV and definitely too wired to sleep. Bishop’s invitation gave me too much to think about and not in the fun way.
He hasn’t said anything yet about what happened with Hudson last night, but he rushed in just in time to get ready for work after spending the night over there, so I’m guessing they worked things out. That means Bishop is with all three of us, and Riot is interested in Hudson from what I understand. If I get involved with Riot, too, then what happens? That leaves Hudson and me in an awkward stand-off over a decade old feud that I’m not sure I can let go.
Before our first date, Bishop said we’re building something. I don’t know much, but I do know that anything built on a rocky foundation can’t stay standing.
I groan inwardly at the realization that I’m going to have to be an adult and at the very least hear him out.
I find myself in the kitchen, pulling out ingredients to make Rocky Road cookies, considering how to approach such a conversation with Hudson. Low, muffled moans filter down the hallway, making my cock half-hard, but not enough to distract me