“I love pancakes,” Leighanne said, then munched on the fluffy food drenched in organic butter and pure maple syrup. She did a little dance in her seat, making Mitch laugh. How could this silly, adorable woman be the same insatiable creature from an hour ago? “So good.”

After they had all showered and recovered from their epic sexcapade, Mitch had offered to cook breakfast—though it was well past morning—and damn, he would cook pancakes all the time if she kept licking her lips the way she did, her tongue darting out to pick up stray crumbs. He flashed back to both of them on the floor, her tongue rubbing up against his as they both sucked Armie’s cock.

Armie chuckled around his fork, his head tilted in Mitch’s direction. “You okay there?”

“Yeah.” Not that Mitch’s reply sounded convincing.

“Your breathing got a little labored.”

“Thanks for noticing, Daredevil.”

They all laughed and settled into a comfortable pattern of eating and chatting, teasing one another every now and then. It was so natural, like they’d been doing it for years.

“I like your tattoo,” Leighanne said after swallowing her orange juice.

“I got a tattoo last night?” Armie’s head popped up. He was shirtless, comfortably lounging in only a borrowed pair of boxers and his sunglasses. Why did he need to wear those here? He’d asked for them almost immediately after they’d finished.

“Ha. Ha. Funnyman.” Leighanne wrinkled her nose at the joke. “Mitch has a large and intricate star of David on his right shoulder blade. It’s lovely.”

“Thank you,” Mitch said around a mouthful of food. She gave him a meaningful glance he didn’t understand until she turned to the third point of their sexy triangle. “So, Armie, what made you drink yourself under the table last night.”

Ah, so it’s that time, is it?

“I felt like having a few drinks, and I lost count.”

He wasn’t facing either of them now, just focused on his plate, or at least oriented in that direction. It was amazing how much he acted like someone with sight. In any case, with or without his vision, he was a terrible liar.

“Uh-huh,” she said, placing her fork and knife on the table. “Dearborne said you’d been there often lately. What does often mean? Did you lose count those other nights too?”

“Listen.” Armie set his silverware down on the table, the fork hitting the side of the plate making a screeching noise that only added to the rising tension in the room. “I appreciate your concern, but I got home fine all those other nights. And even if you hadn’t come and rescued me last night, Dearborne would have let me crash in his back room.” Armie said rescued like it was toxic, like he resented them for it.

Mitch gripped his hand, wanting him to feel the pressure, feel his support. “Armie, tell us what’s happening here.” Armie tried to take his hand away, but Mitch wouldn’t let him. “Is something wrong with your family? Are you having trouble at work?” Mitch had heard around town that Armie was a history teacher at a local community college. Very respected and admired for giving animated lessons despite his handicap.

“Please tell us.” Leighanne grasped Armie’s forearm.

“It’s nothing—”

Mitch snorted. “You just had your cock in my ass, and you’re going to lie right to my face?”

“If I can’t see your face, is it considered lying?”

“Yeah,” Mitch and Leighanne said in unison. They grinned at each other.

“Stop.” He tried to make them let go, but Leighanne and Mitch were as stubborn as shit. “I don’t want to talk about it. You’re not my therapists.”

“No, we’re your lovers.” Leighanne’s voice hitched at that truth. “And I don’t let someone I care about flounder when there is clearly some heavy emotional shit happening. Tell us, please.”

Mitch hoped Armie wouldn’t brush them off, didn’t know what he would do if he did.

Armie sighed in defeat, so dejected sounding. He took the glasses off, then threw them on the table. His gaze angled straight ahead, unseeing in more ways than his blindness. “I wasn’t born blind.”

Mitch glanced over at Leighanne, her surprised expression confirming that this was new information to her as well.

“I learned I had a degenerative disease a few years ago. I’d had it since childhood, but it only started taking my sight about two and a half years back. First, it was clarity, fuzziness. I got thicker glasses, but it was okay. Then I was deemed legally blind, couldn’t drive anymore. Then black spots appeared in my vision until all I was left with was my peripheral.” Armie stopped, gripping Mitch’s hand so tightly Mitch almost winced in pain. Mitch ignored it. “The night we met at the pool, that was the last of it. The peripheral went that morning. I’m completely blind now.

“It just hit me—I will never be able to see the leaves change color again. I will never be able to see the crisp, clean white of freshly fallen snow, or a rainbow after a thunderstorm, or the dark blue of the Atlantic Ocean. Fuck, I’d give anything to see a pile of dog shit on the sidewalk again. But I can’t, and I won’t and it’s something I’m having trouble coming to grips with.”

Mitch felt for him, but he could also sense there was something more underneath the shock of losing his sight, losing one of the five senses. But for some that would be enough to send a person into a spiral, so he didn’t press Armie for more.

“I should be grateful, I guess,” Armie continued. “Some don’t ever get to see those things at all.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t make your grief any less relevant. And that’s what it is, Armie, grief for the loss of something loved, something necessary to your life.” Mitch knew about loss, knew what it was like to lose something most people took for granted. “There is nothing wrong with what you’re feeling, man. I hope, at least from now on, you can find a way to channel that grief into something that doesn’t involve a bottle of whiskey.”

“What do you suggest? The whiskey seemed pretty effective.”

Leighanne ran her hand along the underside of Armie’s forearm. “I can think of a few things.”

“Sex? You want me to channel my despondency into sex?”

“Yes,” Mitch said before he went mute from staring at Leighanne stroking Armie’s arm. They were only limbs; how could that turn him on so crazy?

“So instead of becoming an alcoholic, you want me to become a sex addict?”

Leighanne kissed Armie’s hand and said, “As long as the addiction is only with us, I don’t have a problem with it.”

Armie laughed then, and it wasn’t self-deprecating or sarcastic. It was a genuine, affectionate laugh. Mitch couldn’t help but laugh with him, the playful man from the other night at the pool too infectious to withstand. There were so many sides to Armie. The man he was with his family, the joker from the pool, the controlling top in the bedroom…Mitch had to admit that side might be his favorite. But he couldn’t overlook the depression inching at Armie, even though it would be so easy to let the man hide all those conflicting emotions away. Mitch wouldn’t let him do that. He wanted Armie to heal, to be whole in his new world.

“My sisters are gonna get a kick out of this. You know, they’re always saying I would never be satisfied with just a man or a woman.”

Mitch’s heart sank, seeing the one thing that might prevent him from helping Armie heal fully. They weren’t going to like what he needed from them for this to work. This is where things usually ended for him.

“Is a triad something they had in mind?” Leighanne asked, unaware of Mitch’s tension.

“No, I think they assumed I would never settle down. They’ll freak when they hear I’m seeing two people…who are also seeing each other.”

Mitch cleared his throat. He was focused on his plate as he shuffled the syrup around with a fork, much like Armie had been before. It was his turn to confess now.

“Mitch?” Armie probed.

“I have a request.”

“Anything. What is it?” Armie was quick to offer all of himself, but he couldn’t see the unsettling grimace on Mitch’s face. Mitch glanced over at Leighanne quickly. Her eyebrows were crinkled in worry. She saw that whatever was coming wouldn’t be something either of them liked.

“I would appreciate if we kept this—us—a secret.”

Silence. Well, that was never a good reaction. But at least they weren’t laughing or yelling at him.

“Why?” Armie asked. “Are you not out yet?”

“No, it’s not because of that. But, I mean, that isn’t something I advertise either. This is three people, and that’s not exactly something a wide range of folks are willing to accept.”

Armie was smiling kindly. He probably thought he could convince Mitch to change his mind. It was sweet of him to think so.

“Mitch, I’ve lived in this community my entire life. You won’t find a group of more accepting, liberal, and kind people anywhere in Connecticut. This won’t even be a blip on their radar. Sure, there are going to be some nosy bums who are interested in the mechanics of our sex life, but nobody will judge us for being a threesome. We support each other in this community. Trust me.”

“I want to, but I’ve been traveling around the country for too long, I’ve experienced too much—” A bat to his legs. A brass knuckle punch to his gut. “Too much to be so open with something like this.”

“You don’t want people to know ever?” Leighanne clutched Armie’s hand like she needed support. Mitch was hurting her, but this was something he wouldn’t back down on. The visceral fear wouldn’t let him have them, have an open relationship that was anything but heteronormative.

But he felt a new part of him, a burgeoning, awakening part that would fight to keep them. That might be enough to give them a little room to breathe before he shut them down so completely. He wanted to help Armie see he was no less a man for having a disability. He wanted to hear Leighanne sing onstage, hypnotize a crowd as she had hypnotized him by dancing into an office and taking out the trash.

He didn’t want to lose them.

“Give me until the first night of Hanukkah.” Where had that come from? He’d never negotiated this thing before.

“Why then?” Leighanne asked, still looking hurt and bitter.

“I’m announcing my plans for the JCA that night. There are still financial deals to make before moving forward, and I’d like the approval of the community first.” That lie came fast. “I don’t want this”—he gestured to the three of them—“coloring their opinions.”

“So this is purely because of business?” Armie asked. When Mitch confirmed, Armie bristled. “I don’t hide things from my family.” The direct and sure statement hit Mitch right in the face. “We’re a unit, my sisters and me. I won’t lie to them.”

“But do you need to go out of your way to tell them anything?” Lord, Mitch felt like an asshole car salesman with that one.

Armie stood then, his chair scraping the wood floor. “I’m not going to lie to them, either outright or by omission.” He held his hand out in Leighanne’s direction. “Leighanne, will you get my stuff together?”

No. No, they couldn’t leave. Mitch wasn’t finished with them yet. He needed more time.

Mitch stood, his voice cracked. “Wait. That’s it?” He looked to Leighanne, but she wouldn’t offer any advice or relief. She clearly agreed with Armie.

“No, it’s not it,” Armie said, stopping. “I don’t want this to be it.”

“One week, man.” Mitch came in front of Armie, wrapped his arms around the tall man, pressing their bodies together. Mitch reached out to Leighanne as well, bringing her in close, including her in the embrace. She rested her head against Mitch’s chest.

“I can’t—” Armie began.

“Armie,” Leighanne said, brushing her fingers along his cheek. “We can be discreet for a week. It’s a blip in the scheme of things. We can make this week about us, about each other.” She looked a little sick trying to persuade Armie to lie. Mitch would make it up to her, to both of them. They wouldn’t regret this.

Armie sighed. “I’m not promising anything. My sisters are walking lie detectors.”

“Thank you, Armie.” Mitch kissed his cheek, then his lips, slowing showing his gratitude. After a moment Mitch turned the kiss to Leighanne, her body relaxing against his.

“Feel the need to drink right now?” Leighanne asked Armie, rubbing a hand up and down both their chests.

“No.” Armie grinned, using his fingers to trace Mitch’s lips. “I have a new addiction now.” Mitch had to kiss him for that.

“Hey,” Armie said, pulling away. “Do you guys have my phone?”

Leighanne snorted “Yeah…about that.”