Always Three: A MMM Menage Coming Out of the Closet Romance (The Always Series Book 7) Read online

  Naturally, I’m tense. In fact, I’m going to be tense all day. We need to support Ricky, he’s our friend after all, but I have so many questions that my mind won’t stay quiet. Maybe Ricky didn’t mean to keep Janine from us, but I feel betrayed and I don’t what it’ll take to change this.

  Sidney looks at his watch, and then tsk-tsks at our group. “The wedding should start soon. Let’s get a move on, slowpoke.”

  He taps Jane’s shoulder, who swats him one last time before taking his arm with hers.

  “Oh and boys,” Jane sings over her shoulder. “Stop smoking. You’re EMTs now.”

  Hudson’s face goes red, as red as our hands now that Jane and Sidney know what we were doing here. I look at the pack of cigarettes in my hand, turning it once, before crushing in it my palm.

  “New leaf?” Hudson asks, looking from the crushed pack up to me.

  “I guess. It feels like it isn’t fully turned over, but I’m working on it,” I chuckle.

  I walk back down the steps, and throw the bad decision in the trash. I wish everything was so simple. Just put it in the trash and be done with it. Wishful thinking.

  Between Danny’s social media feed, blasting me with pictures of his Southeast Asian getaway, and the impending wedding between my best friend and a near stranger, I definitely won’t be in a good mood today. In fact, it feels more like a bone-deep depression, here to stay until I can drown myself in work again.

  Still, I’ll suck it up for Ricky. I have to. Besides, we’re his groomsmen. If Hudson and I aren’t 100% there for him, people will notice. I don’t want him or anyone else to worry about where we are. I refuse to take anything away from my best friend, on the most important day of his life. I just can’t wait for this to be over.

  2

  Ricky

  “Do you have the rings?” The officiant asks me.

  I look at him funny, leaning closer so I can whisper. “One of my groomsmen does. Aren’t you supposed to ask that question when the ceremony starts? Is this going to jinx it?” I ask. I’m mostly kidding, but if the jinx is a real thing, I hope he’d tell me.

  Instead, the guy nods and leans away from me. He puckers his lips and turns all his attention to the bible in his hands. Well, so much for jokes. I could really use one right now too.

  My eyes shift away from the stuffy wet blanket and fix on the room around us. Janine’s parents picked the venue. Janine has lavish tastes, so I shouldn’t have surprised me when they picked the Atlantis Hotel. Of course, they had to choose the ritziest hotel in Long Island.

  The grand ballroom is right out of a Disney princess movie. I should know. I used to babysit for the girls next door, and I’ve seen Anastasia more than my fair share of times. This hall is a near replica of a Russian imperial court. The guests have already taken their seats, facing the white floral altar…facing me.

  Have you ever stood facing 300+ people? It’s intimidating, to say the least. For their sake as well as mine, I try to look casual. I hold a smile on my face, keeping my shoulders lax as I let my eyes wander the room.

  Janine and her family planned everything. They gave me one order: show up. That’s why, instead of a quiet wedding at city hall, I’m stuck here, about to be married inside Long Island’s version of Versailles

  There are half a dozen chandeliers above us, twinkling against the whitest walls I’ve ever seen. Honestly, I feel I’ll dirty the walls if I stare at them long enough. Did I mention gold? There’s gold in the floorboards and gold in the wall inlays. Yep, an Anastasia fanatic definitely designed this room. The banquet room tables are set with white rose, lily, and hydrangea bouquets, pure white to match the crisp walls and, no doubt, Janine’s dress. I haven’t seen it yet, but I’m sure it’s white. Janine likes traditions.

  Despite the nine yards Janine’s parents forked out for our special day, there’s something about the glitz and glam that makes my body want to break out in a rash. Call me cynical. Call me romantic. Either way, I think all this stuff is just that. It’s stuff, but stuff shouldn’t matter this much. Most of it will go in the trash tomorrow, if not by next week. I know it’s my wedding, and that I gave Janine creative license over everything, but something feels off. I don’t know. Maybe it’s the faux plants lining the room, but there’s a phoniness I can’t shake off.

  Maybe I am a cynic. What kind of a groom criticizes his own wedding?

  I force my brain to shift focus on the guests before me. My parents are NYU professors, but recently transferred to the Shanghai campus for the next two years. I didn’t want to burden them with the travel back to the States, so they aren’t here today. We video chat when we can, so I don’t mind it too much.

  It means, though, that most of the crowd consists of Janine’s family, friends, and acquaintances. That wouldn’t necessarily be a problem, except for the fact that I really, really don’t do well in front of crowds. For someone who wants to be actor, it’s a strange predicament.

  There’s no getting around it. This wedding is going to be a crash course in surviving torture. To their credit though, most of the guests aren’t staring at me. Mostly they mind their business. Janine isn’t here yet, and I can’t be that interesting, standing awkwardly like a puppet. There’s a small string ensemble in the corner of the room. The guests listen to the soft music, a combination of violins, harps, and cellos, and whisper amongst themselves. Maybe their complaining about the white, or the gold, or wondering how much Mr. Lindsay’s spent on the whole affair. Mr. Lindsay is a financial manager at a hedge fund after all. He can spend however much he wants.

  I try to not let the gossip get to me. Most of it is innocent enough, and I don’t mind the trivial things. It’s when people go overboard, like placing bets on how long the marriage will last. That, I do mind. Despite my smile and relaxed-looking posture, I can’t stop rubbing my palms together. My hands feel hot to the touch. I bet I could set fire to a bouquet.

  “Hey, don’t worry, buddy,” Hudson whispers over my shoulder.

  It’s a simple phrase. It’s only a few words, and they could mean nothing if said by someone else. But it’s Hudson, one of the two most important guys in my life. His assurance is exactly what I needed to hear.

  I turn to look at them full on. They’ve been fairly quiet behind me. They like to make jokes, tease, whatever they can to get a rise out of me. They’ve always been like this, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. But today...they stay quiet. I give them a quick once over, especially Hayden. He looks edgy. Is he nervous? He’s not the one getting married!

  I hear giggling from the Lindsay side of the audience, and turn towards the cloying sound. Seated in a line are a group of women, making the most obvious googly eyes at Hayden and Hudson. These must be the eligible bachelorettes of the Lindsay circle of friends.

  I look back at Hayden and Hudson, their eyes looking back at the women. They offer them smiles, but I can read them like open books. Their smiles are tight-lipped, stern even. They reserve these for every woman that tries to hit on them. The poor girls. They obviously don’t know the twins are gay.

  I mean, I can’t really save these guys from the girls anyways. If I could steal their attention, I would. I’d take one for the team, because I know they’d do the same for me. But these girls aren’t the least bit interested in me. I mean, I’m a good-looking guy, don’t get me wrong. I work out regularly, plus I have chocolate brown hair and eyes, and lean muscle. Still, I don’t look like that.

  My eyes wander over Hayden and Hudson a second and third time, as they whisper between themselves about their groupies. Damnit, they look amazing. I don’t hold a candle when it comes to the Jones’ brothers. They’re descended from Greek Gods, they must be. I’ve always been slim, unlike Hayden and Hudson’s arms of steel. I think they could knock me down with their biceps alone. They’re a few inches taller than me to boot. Actually, I’m surprised anyone’s looking at me at all, when I have these guys to compete with next to me.

  Hudson clears h
is throat, drawing my attention away from their bodies up to his throat. Shit, they even have strong, thick necks. Why haven’t I noticed that until now?

  “If you’re wondering if we can handle the attention, the answer is yes,” Hudson whispers to me, in earshot of Hayden.

  Hudson flashes me a real smile. This isn’t the contrite-looking thin line the bachelorettes receive. His grin shows most of his teeth, in a good way. They both have perfect white teeth…bastards. Hayden’s smiles are almost always subdued, because he doesn’t like to show off his dimples. Hudson, on the other hand, lets every smile twist and pull his features without restraint. Every smile, every real smile at least, shows me his carefree spirit. Nothing ever stops him from living his life, and you can see it every time he beams back at me.

  Hayden and Hudson aren’t just handsome, but funny, and spirited, and full of life. Carefree doesn’t even begin to describe them, but it’s something I envy the most.

  I wish I could be that carefree…but I can’t.

  My heart stutters in my chest, overcome with vertigo. Suddenly, the lights are too bright. I was already sweating, but my damp forehead starts to drip in earnest.

  A hand on my shoulder grounds me, while Hayden presses a handkerchief into my palm. I wipe at my face, breathing deliberately as I go.

  “Thanks,” I croak.

  Hudson squeezes my shoulder harder, as if he’s injecting me with a healthy dose of reality.

  “It’s okay to be nervous, even emotional. It’s not every day you commit yourself to someone for the rest of your life,” Hudson tries to assure me.

  My face feels damp again, but I already stopped sweating. I take the damp handkerchief and pat the tears from my eyes. Shit, I thought I had it together.

  Some people watch us, some confused while seem to understand. They see the guy Hudson’s just described. A man about to make vows to the woman he loves. A man overwhelmed by the spectacular journey ahead of him. A man on the verge of lifelong commitment, bound to his true love, for better or worse, in sick and in health.

  Janine has always been there for me, especially when I was sick. I haven’t told anyone, but college was hard for me. It was hard to be away from home, especially from Hayden and Hudson. We were inseparable, until we weren’t. I felt torn away from my lifelines. We stopped fencing. We had college, and new friends, and our studies. I needed a new rock to get my footing again.

  I still haven’t told Hayden and Hudson what happened. I didn’t mean to keep my health scare from them, but there’s never been the right time to tell them. We were all working towards our careers. I couldn’t burden them with my problems, even though I wanted them by my side. I refused to do that for them.

  Janine was there, though. She stood by my side through it all, so when she proposed to me, I felt like I should return the favor. She stood by my side, so I should stand by hers now.

  If I agreed to all this, then why am I two breaths away from a panic attack? Yes, it’s definitely a panic attack. I used to get them when I first got sick. Janine helped me through these too. She told me to calm my breathing, and that’s what I need to do now.

  I focus on Hudson’s hand on my shoulder.

  “In one-two-three-four, out one-two-three-four,” I whisper.

  Hudson and Hayden share a look, but I’m too concerned with counting to say anything. I need to relax. These are the butterflies everyone always talks about, isn’t it? I mean, I love Janine. She’s been there for me, and I’m there for her. Isn’t that what love is?

  I helped Janine all throughout college. I was as much her tutor and parent as I was her boyfriend. Hell, sometimes I wrote her essays for her. She’d forget she had an assignment to do, and a couple times, she knew but didn’t think it’d be a big deal to neglect them. School was always an afterthought to her. Her parents take good care of her, and school is just another social marker for her life. She cares more about fashion and travel than she ever cared about a book.

  She isn’t a saint, but I’m not either. It can’t be easy to nurse your boyfriend back to health. Plus, I’m not exactly a social butterfly. It takes me a long time to make friends with people, and even longer to really trust someone. Janine trusts easily, like a dog with a bone. It always struck me as odd, like something might be off, but I can’t criticize her either. We have our differences.

  Because of those differences, I sometimes have my doubts. Doesn’t everyone? Whenever I feel that nagging question pop up, I bury it back down. I get nervous. Honestly, the only times I’ve ever really felt at peace is with Hayden and Hudson by my side.

  Hayden’s voice, however, that brings me back to Earth.

  “You don’t have to do this, Ricky,” he whispers, a confession only for our ears and no one else’s. “We’re here for you no matter what.”

  I look at him, taking in the sparkle in his eyes.

  The chandeliers do their eyes justice. The blue is ethereal today, but I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t mesmerized by the color. It looks like crisp river water, cutting through thickets of forest and rushing towards the ocean full steam. I try not to stare too often, but it helps that the twins are really great at eye contact. They always hold me firmly in their gaze, and it feels like I’m swimming in a tropical ocean.

  Before I lose myself in deep blue eyes, the jarring sound of Wagner’s B-flat major stirs everyone into action. There’s no time to respond to Hayden. I look at both of them, their faces broken for only a second. I see the fear I was burying inside me for a moment, and then just as fast, their masks are back on. Hudson gives me that fake smile, while Hayden plays the stoic gentleman. I didn’t have time to answer him. I can’t tell him I’m fine, or that I’m making a huge mistake. Before I can say anything…it’s happening.

  Everyone rises to their feet. We look like a living, breathing organism, like cells ready for the next life cycle. My heart isn’t in my body anymore, but in my hand. I’m giving it to Janine, whether it’s a good idea or not. It’s happening.

  The music booms. It makes my bones rattle in my body. I feel weaker than I thought I was, unable to withstand the aria coursing over the speakers. After what feels like an eternity, the song ends. I look at the entrance doors, still closed. I don’t look at the crowd, but in my periphery, I can tell people are confused. They look towards me, and then each other, and then the band. The harpist looks especially sad, eyeing the others like she needs extra direction. The cellist glances around the room, looking determined, but I can see him give up and then instruct his group to start the song again.

  Again, the jarring notes of “Here Comes the Bride” ring throughout the ballroom. However, the title doesn’t deliver on its promise.

  “Where is she?” Hudson asks me.

  I shake my head slightly, only meant for Hayden and Hudson to see. I don’t have a clue what’s wrong.

  Suddenly, my eyes land on Cindy. Janine’s mom hired the wedding planner early on, when they realized this would be a job fit for a village. Cindy is the village elder. She planned over fifty weddings and doesn’t want to retire anytime soon. I thought that if anyone would know what’s up, it’s her.

  Except, I see Cindy scuttle around the room. She resembles a crab trying to outrun a flock of seagulls. She darts towards the band, gesticulating wildly until the ensemble cuts Wagner short. They settle on Debussy instead, but it only makes my head start to ache.

  “Ricky,” I hear Hayden say, worry threaded in each syllable.

  I don’t turn to him. I can’t. I never want to burden them, and if I’m going to fall apart here and now, I can’t face them.

  I keep my eyes fixed on the double doors. I will them to blow open, and to see Janine run forward, eyes sparkling, smile shining, ready to get married in front of her family and friends.

  “All I had to do was show up,” I say distantly.

  “What?” Hudson asks.

  They moved closer. I can feel them right behind me, their chests so close that their heat rolls off me in w
aves. Maybe they’re the reason I suddenly break into a sweat, or maybe I’m on the verge of another panic attack. I’m trembling in my suit, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the doors. I need to see Janine.

  An angel answers my prayers, and Janine pushes the doors open.

  Her dress is white, with bits of lace around her shoulders and down the skirt. I can see some beading around the curve of her chest too. It looks beautiful, and she looks beautiful in it. She walks inside slowly, and I’m about to let out the breath I’d been holding when her eyes lock on mine.

  Her face tells me one thing: she’s not about to get married.

  She looks as terrified as I felt ten minutes ago. I see her hands now, and she’s trembling too. She might have a panic attack in the next few seconds.

  The crowd stirs, and her gaze breaks from mine. She sees her friends and family, her father’s colleagues, her mom’s sorority sisters. Janine looks like a wild animal, cornered by poachers.

  As quickly as she opened the doors, she bolts. In her all-white outfit, she’s nothing more than a flash. She flies out of the room faster than the speed of light. Then my ears fill with that unmistakable sound. It’s like a swarm of locusts on the horizon. I turn my attention to the droves of whispering guests. I can’t catch anything specific, but the gossip catches like wildfire. It spreads down the aisles, jumping from mouth to ear and vice versa until my ears are ringing.

  “My first runaway bride of the season,” the officiant says drolly.

  Cindy rushes between the makeshift pews, her headset wires bobbing against her chest.

  “Ricky,” she heaves once she reaches the steps of the altar.

  “Yes?” I ask.

  She eyes Hayden and Hudson suspiciously. She steps forward, and cups her mouth as she leans into my ear.

  The words leave her mouth, but they sound like gibberish, or actually, worse than gibberish. Her voice echoes in my brain the same way an ambulance siren leaves an imprint, the cacophony seared on your mind. It’s a horrible, terrifying sound. Somehow, Cindy’s words are worse.