I wake up to the unmistakable sounds of Moira getting fucked in the shower. The door is cracked open; I can hear the steady spray of water, the slap of skin against skin. Moira cries out at regular intervals. Sebastian says filthy fucking things to her. My cock stirs with interest but I ignore it. Doing my best to ignore them, I stretch out on the pillow-top mattress and catch the lavender scent of Moira on the pillow next to mine. A helpless smile splits my face.

I’m fucking happy. I shouldn’t be. My life is still in shambles, same as last night when I was miserable. Nothing’s really changed, so I should still feel like a sorry bastard in a shitty situation, but how can I when I get to wake up like this? All night Moira slept snuggled up against my side, content as a kitten wedged there between me and Seb.

I never dreamed we could both have this much. Sure, I’ve been riding Sebastian’s coattails professionally for years, pouring money I didn’t care about into his ideas, working toward his vision, but that wasn’t personally fulfilling. None of that ever made me happy. That was for Seb. It was his dream to have financial success, to make a name for himself. He’s the one who wanted all that stuff.

I wanted this. A family. A home. Something I could always count on, a safe place to call mine. I wanted to let in happiness; I just never felt comfortable enough to do it. While I never consciously admitted it, being with Ashley never had the feel of permanence. I had settled into the idea that she was it for me—I married her, after all—but I never had this feeling of being where I’m meant to be. I found an abandoned building I could squat in for a time, but it never felt like it belonged to me.

Even sharing Moira, this does. I’m sharing her with my best friend, with the only permanent person I’ve ever had in my life. It’s not something I would have sought out myself, but now I think I almost prefer sharing with him to having something that’s only mine. Maybe I failed to keep my own shoddy marriage afloat, but Seb can hold a ship steady through the most brutal of storms. Even if we eventually hit rougher waters, there’s more stability with all three of us working to keep things steady. What could be better than the three of us taking on life as one cohesive unit?

Seb and Moira emerge from the bathroom together. That first night I felt like an interloper, but now I’m perfectly comfortable with it. It doesn’t bother me that Moira’s face is flushed, her expression a little dreamy, and I know it’s because of what he was just doing to her. Especially after Ashley cheated, I would’ve thought something like that would rankle, but it’s entirely different; there’s no deception here, no malice, no selfishness. No one is doing anything to hurt anyone else. Moira isn’t just mine or his now, she’s ours. We both love her, we both fuck her, and that’s the way it is.

Absorbed in his own thoughts a world away from mine, Seb rakes his fingers through his damp hair and heads for the closet to get dressed. I want to know what’s on his mind—especially since it’s probably my shit—but Moira climbs up on the bed and steals my attention before I can ask.

“Good morning, handsome.” She’s wearing a fluffy bath robe instead of clothing this morning. I rarely see her without her hair and make-up done, but I like the intimacy of it. I lock an arm around her waist and drag her on top of me. She grins and leans in to give me a tender kiss.

“Good shower?” I murmur, playfully.

“Could you hear us?”

I nod my head at the door to the adjoining master bathroom. “Door was open. Sounded like a fun shower.”

“I’ll probably have to take another one after I go for my run,” she tells me, running her hands across my chest. “Feel free to join me.”

Between her invitation and the sensation of her soft fingers against my skin, my head is suddenly flooded with images of fucking her in the shower, and my cock with a vehement desire to be buried deep inside her.

“I will accept that invite,” I tell her. “Provided I’m still here by then.”

Seb steps out of the closet, buttoning up his dress shirt. Apparently he caught the tail end of that comment, because he says, “Today’s your day off, isn’t it?”

I glance at him as Moira climbs off me and goes over to help him with his tie. He certainly doesn’t need help with it, but I get the impression it’s part of their routine.

“It was supposed to be,” I remark. “Since I flaked yesterday though, I figured I should probably work today.”

Shaking his head, Seb meets my gaze. “Nah, you need a day off. Take it. Stay here with Moira. Relax. If you need to get any work done, just do it from here. I have a late meeting tonight anyway so I won’t be home for dinner.”

Apparently this is the first Moira is hearing about it. “You won’t?”

His attention shifts to her as she smoothes her hand down his shirtfront, over the perfect line of his tie. “You two are on your own. Modified date night,” he offers, lightly.

“I can work with that,” Moira says, nodding.

Since I’m planning to shower with Moira after her run, I just pull on a pair of sweats to go down for breakfast. Seb takes a seat and starts reading his paper while Moira makes the coffee.

“What can I do?” I ask Moira, leaning against the counter and watching her fiddle around at the coffee maker.

Flicking a surprised glance at me, she tells me, “You can cut the grapefruit in half, if you’d like.”

I make a face at her since she knows I hate grapefruit. “You’re not gonna make me eat it, are you?” I ask, reaching for the cutting board.

“No, I’ll be nice to you. Though the health benefits—”

“I’m okay with dying a few weeks early if it means I never have to eat a grapefruit,” I assure her.

Moira shakes her head at me. “Your priorities are all out of order. It doesn’t taste that bad.”

“It’s gross,” I inform her, grabbing the fruit and slicing it in half.

“Thank you,” she says sweetly, retrieving the halves and putting them on small plates. She drops one off on her end of the table and takes the other to Seb. He pauses in reading the paper for a kiss and a thank you, then she comes back to start on the rest of breakfast.

“What else?” I ask.

“I’m just making eggs, I don’t really need help. You can get out the butter and jelly for the toast, if you’d like.” Glancing back at the table, she tells Seb, “See? He helps me cook and everything.”

Without looking up from his paper, Seb remarks, “Why do you think I got you a second husband? You’re welcome.”

“I can do dishes, too,” I volunteer.

“And laundry?” Moira asks, with exaggerated gusto. “Best second husband ever.”

“Knock yourself out,” Seb tells me, but he can’t help smirking. “You know you don’t have to work so hard to impress her, right? She’s already yours.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Says you.”

“I find you both exceptionally impressive,” Moira states, preemptively cutting off any competition we could cook up. “I have the best of both worlds and I couldn’t be happier. What about you guys? Both getting enough Moira time? Of course I’m satisfied; I have two men. If anyone ever needs more of me, you’ll have to tell me.”

“I get more of you than I ever got from a woman I didn’t have to share,” I state.

She wrinkles her nose up. “Yuck. Ashley’s on my shit list.”

“Mine, too,” I offer, dryly.

Now Seb glances up from his paper. “I told Griff he should move in with us once we get everything settled.”

Moira brightens. “I love that idea.”

Once the food is cooked, we all sit down to breakfast together. It’s so strange, sitting together like this every morning. I enjoy it, but it’s not the kind of thing I’ve done since a couple of the try-hard foster homes I was shuffled in and out of. Back then, whether because it was or I was just a self-defensive asshole, it always felt phony. The kind of thing people usually do as a family, only those people weren’t my family. They were glorified innkeepers that I would have to move on from a few months later.

This isn’t, though. For once in my life, I have permanence. For once in my life, I have a family of my own—traditional or not.

It’s something I’ve thought about a time or two given Seb and I rarely use protection with Moira, but since we’re doing this, I figure I might as well bring it up now. “I have a question about the future. Or potentially the present, depending on the answer.”

Seb infers by my delivery that this is going to be a serious thing, so he puts down his paper and meets my gaze. “What’s that?”

“We both have sex with Moira.”

“Correct.”

“Neither of us consistently uses condoms. You never do. I have on occasion, but not on a regular basis. So… pregnancy? Is that something we should discuss?”

Moira replies quickly, before Seb has to. “I’m on the pill.”

I glance at her, taking in her eagerness to resolve and file away this topic. I can’t imagine Moira not wanting kids, so Seb must be the problem.

“Okay,” I say, looking back at him. “So, we’ve got it covered now, but what about later?”

Seb sips his hot coffee, eyeing me over the brim. From the look on his face and the glance he cuts in Moira’s direction, I gather he would have preferred I ask him about this without her present, but that’s bullshit. She’s more involved in this decision than either of us. She’s the one who would be carrying a baby. So how the hell is that supposed to work?

“We’re not looking to have kids just yet,” he says, vaguely.

“But when we do. If we’re planning to do this long-term, that’s something to consider, right? How the hell are we supposed to do that? There’s two of us and one of her. Do we take turns? You get first kid, I get second? Do we both just fuck her without protection and see whose sperm gets there first? Do we all even want kids? I want kids. I assume Moira wants kids. Obviously I didn’t think you were going to be involved in this part of my relationship, so I never thought to ask you about it.”

“We’ll have kids eventually,” he assures me.

“But which one of us?”

“You know,” Moira begins, in a tone I can tell means she thinks she’s being helpful, “There’s this HBO show called Big Love that we should totally watch. It’s not our situation, obviously, and it’s multiple wives instead of husbands, but they have kids. It is done. Obviously the show is fictional, but… I think kids are pretty adaptable. Everyone’s parents do something to make them ill-adjusted; at least our lack of convention is born from a place of love. Could be worse. And kids have multiple parental figures all the time. It’s no different than if Seb and I got divorced and I married Griff, except there’s no bitterness and we all live together as a happy, functioning family. I think it’ll be fine. I think we can be completely functional in this arrangement with a baby—and it would be years before we even had to explain. Babies don’t take inventory of their family members.” Cutting a look at Seb to make sure he understands, she adds, “I still want babies. This does not change that.”

“I realize that,” he replies dutifully, then cuts me another look of mild annoyance. “Thanks for this, Griff.”

I shrug unapologetically. “It’s an important thing to know.”

“We can figure that out when it comes up.”

“Moira, do you even want to have babies with me?” I ask her. Obviously Seb is the man she married, the man she planned her life out with. Even if I’m a welcome addition, something she has adjusted to and decided she could want, having kids together is another level of intimacy.

Reaching across the table, she places her hand over mine. “I think you’ll be a wonderful father, Griff. I’m not sure how this works, I’d rather let Sebastian work out the details, but as long as it makes everyone happy….”

“When it’s time,” Sebastian adds, more firmly. “Which is not right now. Moira’s adjusting like a sport, but let’s not leap ahead, hm? Give her time to adjust. Let the honeymoon period wind down first, for fuck’s sake.”

I shoot him a mild look of annoyance. “I’m not trying to leap ahead; I’m just trying to figure out how this works in the big picture.”

“It works the way we need it to,” he states. “I’m always looking at the big picture, but this stuff will come up when it comes up. It’s too soon to worry about it now.”

Bringing up babies at breakfast, it turns out, is a good way to get rid of Seb. He finishes his breakfast in record time, kisses Moira, and leaves for work.

It’s weird as hell staying here with Moira after he leaves. I don’t take a lot of time off in general—one day a week is good enough for me—and since things have been going so shitty with Ashley, even that has been too much. A day off just means time to think, time to stew, time I’m not busy and I can get lost down a rabbit hole of stress and aggravation.

Now days off are going to mean something different. It’s foreign but peaceful the way Moira goes about her routine. I stay in the kitchen and talk to her while she cleans up after breakfast. When she’s done with that, she gets out her sketchpad and oil pencils and draws for a little bit.

I relax on the couch and catch up on a few emails while she works.

It’s calm and uneventful and I can’t wait for a hundred more days like this one.

Once she has drawn until she feels her food has digested, apparently, she gathers up her supplies and tells me, “I’m going to change into my workout clothes.”

“You want company?” I ask her.

Flashing me a smile, she says, “You just want to get laid, don’t you? Come on up, I’ll go a round before my run. Just don’t wear me out so much that I can’t finish. I’ve gotta get in two miles.”

A burst of surprised laughter shoots out of me. “I meant did you want me to go running with you?”

“Oh!” Chuckling lightly, she says, “Sorry, I’m in Sebastian mode. Sure, that would be great. He never runs with me. I asked him to once when we first started dating—I figured he clearly works out, right? Or he’s just blessed with incredible genes. But he won’t run.”

I shake my head. “Nope. I will, though. Let me finish answering this question real fast and I’ll be right up. I’m not saying no to the sex, if you’re still offering,” I call after her, as she heads for the stairs.

“Wait until we get back and we can have shower sex,” she calls back, her voice muffled as she heads for her bedroom.

It’s a damn good day off.