expected a boiler replacement tomorrow if the city cleared the roads. Setting the phone down, he picked up a book from his nightstand. He removed his bookmark, laid it aside, and suggested she and Jay might entertain themselves with their cellphones.
Jay bounded out of bed to fetch them and came back insisting he was cold. He seemed plenty warm when he rolled under the covers alongside her and handed over her phone. Making few calls, he sent a slew of texts rescheduling regular courier runs. She checked work messages.
They lay side by side, hip to hip, elbows knocking as they played games (mostly Jay) and followed news of the snowstorm blanketing the region (mostly Alice).
Much as she enjoyed the time together, the lack of sexual tension struck her as strange. She lay naked in Henry’s bed, snug between his hip and Jay’s, and it felt platonic. Comfortably so. Like when she and Ollie were young and she’d take her little sister by the hand, both of them in their jammies, and they’d climb into their parents’ bed while lightning and thunder rode the prairie.
Today the storm was snow, and the prairie the coast, and her parents and sister were Henry and Jay. Like a family. Where she belonged.
Special circumstances, that was all. What was the saying about houseguests starting to smell after three days? She’d been here half a day, and they’d slept for most of it. Besides, she’d bet Henry incapable of making a guest feel unwelcome in his home.
By midafternoon, Jay’s fidgeting became all-out distraction. Inactivity made him restless. He hopped out of bed every ten minutes to stare out the window and give a report.
“Still snowing. Dunno where they’re gonna plow it all.”
“You know that red SUV that always parks by the corner? Completely covered.”
“Kids. With a sled. We should go out. I bet we could get a snowball fight going.”
His exuberance for the idea of playing in the snow died quick.
“We’d take too long to warm up properly afterward, my boy. Surely the snow will be waiting for you Saturday, when we might expect to have heat again.”
Henry’s gentle denial helped, but his offer to read to them sealed the deal.
Jay hurled himself under the covers at full speed, kissing Alice with giddy affection as she laughed.
“Henry has the best reading voice,” he confided.
Story time. Okay. The adapted Kama Sutra for gayboys? Erotic poetry, probably. No, Jay was horny enough. He didn’t need encouragement.
Something sweeter. Love talk. A Valentine’s Day seduction she should distance herself from.
“Mmm. Thank you, my boy. I suspect you may be biased, however. As you’ve so much energy to burn, run and fetch the hurricane lanterns from the kitchen, please, and then settle yourself with Alice while I select something suitable.”
Well, that decided that. If Henry planned to fill Jay’s ears with Shakespearean sonnets or some other classical love poetry, she’d have to sit and listen. She’d call attention to her discomfort if she tried leaving now.
Jay came back with the lanterns. The old-fashioned style and soft yellow glow suited Henry’s design sensibilities. Beneath the covers they were modern, battery-powered models rather than open flames. Much safer. That suited Henry, too.
The sun hadn’t set yet—her phone showed just past four—but the sky presented an unforgiving gray, and night would fall soon enough at this time of year.
“Settling,” as Jay defined it, involved piling the pillows at the center of the headboard, lying back against them, and pulling her between his legs. She leaned against his chest, her head tucked beneath his chin. Arms draped around her waist, he rubbed her stomach.
She resigned herself to listening to romantic declarations on a day she should’ve left to Henry and Jay alone. She’d tried apologizing to Jay, and he wasn’t having it. If she tried to apologize to Henry, he’d say something gracious and ask probing questions and she’d blurt
Jay bounded out of bed to fetch them and came back insisting he was cold. He seemed plenty warm when he rolled under the covers alongside her and handed over her phone. Making few calls, he sent a slew of texts rescheduling regular courier runs. She checked work messages.
They lay side by side, hip to hip, elbows knocking as they played games (mostly Jay) and followed news of the snowstorm blanketing the region (mostly Alice).
Much as she enjoyed the time together, the lack of sexual tension struck her as strange. She lay naked in Henry’s bed, snug between his hip and Jay’s, and it felt platonic. Comfortably so. Like when she and Ollie were young and she’d take her little sister by the hand, both of them in their jammies, and they’d climb into their parents’ bed while lightning and thunder rode the prairie.
Today the storm was snow, and the prairie the coast, and her parents and sister were Henry and Jay. Like a family. Where she belonged.
Special circumstances, that was all. What was the saying about houseguests starting to smell after three days? She’d been here half a day, and they’d slept for most of it. Besides, she’d bet Henry incapable of making a guest feel unwelcome in his home.
By midafternoon, Jay’s fidgeting became all-out distraction. Inactivity made him restless. He hopped out of bed every ten minutes to stare out the window and give a report.
“Still snowing. Dunno where they’re gonna plow it all.”
“You know that red SUV that always parks by the corner? Completely covered.”
“Kids. With a sled. We should go out. I bet we could get a snowball fight going.”
His exuberance for the idea of playing in the snow died quick.
“We’d take too long to warm up properly afterward, my boy. Surely the snow will be waiting for you Saturday, when we might expect to have heat again.”
Henry’s gentle denial helped, but his offer to read to them sealed the deal.
Jay hurled himself under the covers at full speed, kissing Alice with giddy affection as she laughed.
“Henry has the best reading voice,” he confided.
Story time. Okay. The adapted Kama Sutra for gayboys? Erotic poetry, probably. No, Jay was horny enough. He didn’t need encouragement.
Something sweeter. Love talk. A Valentine’s Day seduction she should distance herself from.
“Mmm. Thank you, my boy. I suspect you may be biased, however. As you’ve so much energy to burn, run and fetch the hurricane lanterns from the kitchen, please, and then settle yourself with Alice while I select something suitable.”
Well, that decided that. If Henry planned to fill Jay’s ears with Shakespearean sonnets or some other classical love poetry, she’d have to sit and listen. She’d call attention to her discomfort if she tried leaving now.
Jay came back with the lanterns. The old-fashioned style and soft yellow glow suited Henry’s design sensibilities. Beneath the covers they were modern, battery-powered models rather than open flames. Much safer. That suited Henry, too.
The sun hadn’t set yet—her phone showed just past four—but the sky presented an unforgiving gray, and night would fall soon enough at this time of year.
“Settling,” as Jay defined it, involved piling the pillows at the center of the headboard, lying back against them, and pulling her between his legs. She leaned against his chest, her head tucked beneath his chin. Arms draped around her waist, he rubbed her stomach.
She resigned herself to listening to romantic declarations on a day she should’ve left to Henry and Jay alone. She’d tried apologizing to Jay, and he wasn’t having it. If she tried to apologize to Henry, he’d say something gracious and ask probing questions and she’d blurt
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