Lots of Naughty & A Little Nice - Leigh Lennon Page 0,22
begins, “we decided we like eating dinner with you and angsty emo girl. We ordered Thai, and because we know your favorites, it’s on its way.”
Neither man continues any conversation about ménages or committed triads. In my favorite room in the house, we continue to enjoy one another’s company, and I realize it’s fitting since they are easily becoming two of my favorite people I love spending time with.
8
Knox
We scared Ave the other night. It wasn’t our intention, and we haven’t given her time to stew on it because we’ve continued to be fixtures in her life. We’ve learned quickly how to come up with excuses to be in her presence—anything from needing to borrow a stick of butter to sharing a funny joke with her or making sure she’s fed.
But I need more than just a glimpse of her. I’ve asked in a text to save us from a high caloric intake of supper. I’ve made enough lasagna to feed twenty. I’ve not done well at cooking for just Ro and myself, and within five minutes, she returns my text.
Avery: You’re asking me to help you out? Yeah, I can suffer through someone feeding me supper. But it’ll be only me. Whit is out with her best friend. And thanks. I’ll bring the wine.
Avery loves her wine, but I’ve come to know more about her besides this little trait. She bites the top of her lip when she’s embarrassed. She loses her train of thought when Ro and I show affection to one another. It’s as though she’s imagining herself between us. And believe me, Ro and I are imagining ourselves on either side of her, too.
I’ve also noticed a change in Rowan. He doesn’t pull away from me in Avery’s presence. He doesn’t mind touching her; he craves it. And when she places her fingers on him, which she does quite often, it doesn’t make him yank away from her.
Ro and I don’t talk about Avery much even though there’s a need to be with her as often as we can. After I explained her concerns from our texting at three in the morning, he tried to reassure me that she wasn’t saying no forever, but priorities are what they are. It was a simple textbook reason for Ro, but for me, I’ve never been great at delayed gratification.
The door opens from the backyard, our way of coming and going from our home. My head pops up, busy with my homemade Caesar salad dressing, but my stare falls on the long dark mocha brown hair in a skintight red sweater and an emerald green blazer, making her look like the Christmas miracle I believe she is.
“Hey, honey, I’m home.” Her banter and the sparkle of her emerald greens cause my heart to thump as it does when Ro is in the room. And I wished this was her home.
“Welcome home, sweetheart.” My return is light and airy, but the way her four words make me feel causes me to want to bring her in for a hurried kiss, swing her over my shoulders, and run upstairs to ready her for Ro and myself the second he walks over the threshold of our house.
“Heaven have mercy. I swear you’re going to fatten me up, Knox.” She begins to sing with the Christmas carols I have playing in the background, and with “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”, her voice is beautiful. She keeps on surprising me.
My gaze is fixed on Avery, and I forget what I’m doing. Breaking my contact with her so I won’t freak her out, I casually cock my head to the side and with a shrug of my shoulders, I say, “I’ve been cooking like this for Ro for years. I’ve not fattened him up yet.”
She walks straight past me, grabbing two wineglasses and the bottle I opened earlier to let breathe. She sets down the bottle of wine she promised to bring. I love how, in the two weeks we’ve known her, she makes herself comfortable in our house. She hands me a glass of Shiraz, and hers is to her mouth before I’m greeted with a reply.
“And Ro runs, what? Five to ten miles a day. Yeah, and my exercise consists of walking to and from my garage.” The clear glass is marked with the lipstick from her ruby red lips as she takes a long sip of her wine.
“Yeah, I see no complaints in your body, Ave. So let us spoil you.