Could the day be any longer? The guys, as I now referred to them in my head, were picking me up at the end of my workday, which dragged on and on. We’d spent the week texting, talking, and video chatting. We talked about the mess they went home to which, sadly, included the drunk being uninsured and structural damage all the way to what our favorite movie was as kids. After six long days, they were finally going to be back, and I was stuck at work, my request to leave early denied. Next week’s meeting with the division head over the job I applied for couldn’t come soon enough.

Focusing on work was not happening. It didn’t help that every pain in the chunk complaint was thrown my way, thanks to George the asshat. He’d always been a jerk, but today he escalated things to a new level and for no reason I could place. I’d been doing the job of two and skipping lunches. Basically, I’d been the ideal freaking employee. Jerk.

A few minutes before quitting time, I informed my section head that I wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be there in the morning. It was legit. I was sick of work and had more sick time than I would be allowed to carry over into the next fiscal year. Sick day it was.

Upon my guys’ insistence, they were there to pick me up as I exited the building. What I really wanted to do was sneak home ahead of them and take a shower and put on not-work clothing, but saying no to them was nearly impossible. They were just too sweet and, dayum, I missed them and, if they picked me up, we had more time together.

“Hi.” I was so lame. Here were two gorgeous guys waiting for me, and the best I could do was say hi.

“It’s good to see you again,” Curtis said. They both enveloped me in a hug. It held far less awkwardness than I feared a three-way anything would. In fact, the only awkwardness was the cat call that had me jumping back. Why did people need to be so rude in things that were none of their business.

“It truly is,” Parker echoed.

“We picked up dinner along the way.” Parker held the car door open, allowing me to slip inside. “figuring you’d be hungry after a busy day.” The car smelled amazing and, much to my embarrassment, my stomach rumbled in response. I turned my head to spy a familiar purple box. “Oh, my favorite pizza place. Roxanne?”

“We just wanted to be sure to get it right.” Parker winked as he shut the door beside me and climbed into the back as Curtis made his way into the driver’s seat.

“You don’t have to try so hard, you know.” Not that I wasn’t impressed to the max. My favorite place, in the city of five hundred crappy pizza joints and only a couple decent ones. “I’m pretty easy to impress.”

“That doesn’t mean we should be slack in our wooing.” Curtis turned on the ignition and slowly began to pull away as traffic was getting heavy due to the time of day.

“Carry on, then,” I said as saucily as I could.

The ride was remarkably faster than the express bus I normally took and, before I knew it, we were walking up the stairs to my apartment, my nerves building with each step. Not nerves over being with them, but nerves over their opinion of my place. I worked hard and had a decent job, but my success showed more in my savings account than my humble abode and even less there since Roxanne moved out.

“Cute place,” Parker commented as he put down the pizza boxes.

“If by cute you mean small, yep. It totally is. But I like it.” I did, too. It was far from something you would see on the home channel, but it suited me even with the little things the landlord neglected to fix. “Mind if I sneak a shower before dinner and get the work grime off me?” I plopped my purse on the counter beside the pizzas. “I mean, if you don’t mind tepid pizza.”

“Actually, that’s my favorite way to eat it.” Parker sank into the couch, making himself at home and, in turn, making me smile.

“Cold is mine,” Curtis added before joining Parker. “Next morning pizza is the best.”

It really was.

“I’ll hurry.” Both men leaned back, resting their feet on the coffee table. “Make yourself at home.” I laughed my way into the bathroom.

I showered as quickly as I could, opting for leggings and my favorite unicorn T-shirt over anything “nice.” A nice relaxing evening at home required nice relaxing clothing. No point in wearing something with the intent of hiding my excessive sexiness. I was who I was, and they liked it or didn’t. Done.

I made my way back into the living room-kitchen combo and stopped in my tracks. My men, for I had officially claimed them in my mind, were on the couch making out. Parker was straddling Curtis, whose hands were settled on his love’s ass. Any fear I had of being jealous of their affection for each other fled the scene, my body responding instantly with its desire to keep watching or join in or possibly both.

I stood there, gawking and drooling until, like an idiot, I leaned into the wall only to miss and stumble, causing a thump that had them snapping apart. Damn. I was enjoying that.

“Sorry. We should’ve heard you,” Parker mumbled as he adjusted himself on the couch, both of them still physically announcing their enjoyment of the kiss.

“Why are you sorry or, for that matter, stopping.”

They both peered at me, almost as if trying to figure out what I just meant.

“I was enjoying the view.”

“Really?” they both mumbled.

“You find it hard to believe watching two sexy men making out is a view worth partaking in?” Because it so very much was.

“I guess I thought it might upset you.” Parker looked to Curtis who nodded.

“Because you’re already together? Like jealousy?” Which made sense because I half feared those feelings myself.

“More like maybe it would creep you out.” Which was something I never worried about.

“No creeping out here. I’m looking forward to another show later.” I opened the fridge and grabbed three bottles. “Beer?”

“You are the perfect woman.”

Hardly, but I hoped to be a good woman for them.

“It’s cheap lite beer. Don’t be too impressed.” I grabbed the bottle opener off the fridge door and opened all three bottles before handing them theirs.

“Works for me.”

“Me too.”

“And now for the fancy dishes.” I opened the cupboard, grabbing a few of the paper plates I always had on hand to avoid dish duty.

“Oh, the French papier. You spoil us, fair maiden.” Parker got up from the couch, bowing at maiden, before taking the plates and serving up the pizza.

“Movie choices are limited to cheesy rom cons, I’m afraid.” I pointed to the small pile of DVDs I owned, all from the five-buck bin at the discount store. They were all decent enough movies but they definitely fell into the chick flick category.

“We always come prepared.” Curtis opened the bag I’d assumed held condiments and retrieved a stack of rental movies ranging from fantasy to horror to dramas to comedy. He had them all. “What’s your poison?”

“How can anyone turn down cannibal witches?” The cover screamed college kid film project; the title screamed spoof. It was perfect.

“See? Nailed it.” Parker patted himself on the back, and I had to chuckle.

“Which one did you pick?” I asked Curtis, needing to know what he thought my choice would be. For some dumb reason, it mattered. He held up one of my all-time favorite movies, one I’d intentionally skipped because I was afraid it was too girly for their tastes.

“Ah, classic tale of romance filled with humor. Another excellent choice. Maybe it will have to be a two-movie night.”

Or we could watch one and then I could watch them making out again. My nether regions were so on board with that plan.

“You were up early today and have work early tomorrow., We’d best make it a one-movie night.” Curtis the ever practical.

“But, see, I was one step ahead and already put in for a sick day,” I countered before taking a bite of my pizza. It was funny how our first dinner date had a private dining room and a wine I couldn’t pronounce and our second had us standing around my counter eating tepid pizza and drinking cheap lite beer. Funny, yet somehow wonderful. Real, even.

“Are you unwell?” It figured. Curtis didn’t get the not-wasting-sick-days-on-being-sick philosophy. I had so much to teach him.

“Sick of work. That counts, right?”

“Absolutely,” Parker agreed, his mouth full of pizza.

“Shall we?” Curtis gestured to the couch.

“We shall,” I agreed, snagging my beer as Parker grabbed the movie.