Chapter Thirteen

Mitchell wasn’t sure who he expected to be running a polyamory workshop, but it wasn’t the over-sixty couple who exited the elevator with Lori. They were like the cover of an AARP magazine, full of exuberant energy, smiling and laughing at some conversation that had started earlier and continued into the room. Lori called all of them over to make introductions.

The older woman, Kate, wore a brown pantsuit with a yellow silk scarf, and when she took off her smart blazer, the blouse underneath was tan and decorated with delicate flowers. She had that polished look—pants creased, shoes sensible but dressy. She was even wearing pearl earrings. Perfect. Her silver hair was neatly bobbed, not a stray strand out of place, her whole persona bubbling with composed sensuality.

Walter, her husband, had a similar air of confidence and decorum. He looked every bit the college professor, complete with tweed jacket and elbow patches. His gray hair was trimmed quite short, and even though it was getting thin on top, he still had most of it, and his small beard and mustache matched the ensemble. In his pocket were wire-rimmed glasses, the kind that had flexible arms on the sides to hook over his ears, because of course he wore glasses like that.

Ben started chatting with them immediately, walking them around to show them the place and answer whatever questions they had about the venue, leaving Mitchell alone with Hannah for a minute. Even though he hadn’t seen her in days, her proximity brought up a whole wave of longing. He had missed her, and told her so.

She blinked in surprise, then smiled shyly, averting her gaze. “Thanks. I missed you, too.” Clearing her throat, she pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. “Anyway. Thanks again for coming.” She bit her lip, looking over at Ben giving the tour. “I know Lori’s grateful, and so am I.”

“You’re welcome. I gotta admit, this isn’t really my thing.”

“Polyamory?”

“Group events.” He grimaced.

“But you go to all those Chamber of Commerce meetings. You take notes.” She raised an eyebrow. “You were amazing at the Fall Festival.”

“That’s different. That’s connected to my business. I’m very good with stuff about my business.”

Hannah frowned. “Right.” She looked around. “This room is nice. I’m glad you could host it here.”

“I’m glad there’s beer.” Beer would make the evening go much more smoothly.

“Definitely.” She smoothed her skirt down her thighs. The action made him look her up and down. She wore a black pencil skirt over purple-and-black-striped tights. The sweater paired with that outfit was the same shade of purple, a nice eggplant color. He always paired appearances with food, but then again, that was how he saw the world.

“Damn, you look good enough to eat.”

She grinned and blushed at once, fucking adorable. “Thank you.”

People were starting to arrive, the steady thumping up the stairs like a harbinger of social interaction, the dinging elevator carrying others, and then Ben’s hand at his elbow steered him away to meet the couple running the workshop.

“So you must be Mitchell.” Kate extended a hand, and Mitchell shook it. “Ben says you two own this pub. What brings you here tonight?”

Ben was just smiling with an earnest expression, like he was just dying to hear what Mitchell had to say. What a fucker. He should have known Ben wasn’t rescuing him from social interaction but dragging him into more.

“I, uh…” He probably couldn’t pawn this off on just owning the business. “We’ve been…sort of trying it recently. Polyamory. Not real polyamory. But something like it. I’m not sure.”

“Oh, good, good.” Walter nodded. “Lots of stuff to unpack with that, isn’t there?”

“Yeah.” Some of the tension in Mitchell’s chest eased at their casual tone. Nobody was even judging his inability to talk. Maybe this wouldn’t be terrible.

“Walter and I are psychologists specializing in relationship therapy,” Kate said, putting a hand on her husband’s arm. “It’s easy for us to get carried away with the therapy part of things sometimes.” They smiled warmly at each other. God, they were clearly so in love. When Mitchell thought about polyamory, he didn’t think about a happy older couple in an open relationship. Already he was having to shift his expectations.

At his elbow, Lori suddenly joined the conversation, addressing Kate and Walter. “I want to give people about five more minutes to come in, and then we can get started, if that’s all right. I’ll introduce you?”

“Sure, sure, sounds good.” Walter nodded. He turned back to Mitchell and Ben. “Well, I hope you gentlemen get something out of tonight. There’s a lot to talk about, and I know it can get a little overwhelming at times.” Nodding sagely at his own comment, he then turned to Kate. “Let’s get unpacked, hon.”

People had started to mingle and make small talk, taking the beer that Mitchell and Ben had poured, until Kate and Walter called everyone to seats.

“If you’re here with any partners or friends, please sit with them at one of the tables,” Kate directed.

Kate and Walter introduced themselves first. They had been together since high school, and they began experimenting with open relationships when they were in their early thirties, which if Mitchell’s math was correct was a bit past the actual free-love era. Kate spoke confidently, with the soothing voice of one comfortable with public speaking.

“We were already psychologists and relationship therapists together, and we both felt the need to get more information about this type of relationship. That has become our calling, to the point where it’s taken over most of our regular practice.”

“We still take clients,” Walter said, “but on a much more limited basis. We give these workshops and help empower communities to develop their own support systems. Discussion groups, book circles—more than just play parties and orgies, which is what people seem to think polyamory is.”

There was a bit of nervous laughter in the room. Okay, maybe people were also nervous. That felt like a relief. Kate’s attention on their table, though, gave Mitchell another rush of adrenaline.

“If you could please take a minute to tell us your name, and what brings you here tonight, it would be nice to get to know each other.”

Fortunately, they started with Ben, who cleared his throat. “Okay. I’m Ben, and I own the pub here with Mitchell. I’m…I guess I’m trying to figure out my feelings.”

Well, shit. Ben, being honest and thoughtful rather than deflecting with a joke. Mitchell smiled to himself as he answered next.

“I’m Mitchell. Like Ben said, we own the pub here. I’m the head chef. I’m here because…” There was that question again. “I want to know more about polyamory. I don’t know if it’s for me. I don’t know if we’re doing it right.” As soon as he said it, a blush stole over him, because shit, he’d just told the room he was fucking these people. He’d never said that out loud to anyone but Hannah before. The smiles from people around him were genuine, though, and he relaxed a bit as Hannah shared.

“I’m Hannah, and I own the sex shop here in town.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I’m here because I don’t know if one person is ever going to be right for me, but I don’t want to take on more than I can handle.” She paused. “Emotionally. Not physically.” She blushed, and it was adorable. There was a lot of innuendo in that sentence.

The rest of the room shared, one at a time. In general, the group comprised a mix of ages and reasons for being there. A few people identified as openly polyamorous, but several were in the “I’m curious but I don’t know what I’m doing” camp. This was very much an intro thing, which was good. Mitchell did a quick head count: there were eighteen people in the room. Most appeared to be with partners, and a few with more than one partner, which was what it must look like with him, Ben, and Hannah. The group seemed more normal than he’d expected, very little “hippie love child” vibe. A place like Mapleton, with five colleges right in the surrounding area, tended to skew liberal and sometimes very liberal. With his two moms and his Subaru, Ben was probably one of the more hippieish of the group, which made him chuckle quietly just thinking it, since he’d never thought of Ben that way before.

“To start with,” Kate said, “we’d like you all to take out the journals from your folders.”

Great. Journaling. He expressed himself through food, not through writing. They were supposed to write about their individual goals for the session. Kate and Walter insisted that no one would read the journals but them, and they would have no obligation to share.

Okay. His goals for the session. Mitchell paused with his pen over the paper.

I don’t know why I’m here. That wasn’t entirely true. I don’t know if I want to do polyamory. I don’t know if I could love two people at the same time without feeling like I was always everybody’s last choice. Yikes. That was probably too honest. He stared at the book and swallowed. Well, if he was going to have to express his feelings, that was an okay place to start. At least he didn’t have to share them. If I have to pick a goal, and I guess I do, I will say that I want to learn whether or not I’m the kind of person who can do this polyamory thing. There. That was a suitable goal. If he figured that thing out, he could know at least whether there was any future in anything he was doing, or if he was just going to have to move on.

And leave Ben and Hannah behind.

The thought of that hit hard, and even though he had stopped writing and was just staring at the blank page, a series of emotions cascaded through him, all right after one another. He took a deep breath and steadied himself.

When everyone had mostly stopped writing, Walter asked for more, because why wouldn’t he? This was going to be the kind of event where everyone asked for more. “Now, we have another prompt for you. This is the second of three prompts. For this prompt, please write about what qualities you value most in your partner or partners. This can be a romantic or sexual partner. If you do not have any partners right now, you can write about your ideal partner.”

Writing about Ben was easy. Listens to me. Funny. Smart and always looking to learn. Honest. Trustworthy. Compassionate. Can be serious, but not too serious. Team player. Good conversationalist. If he wanted to, he could probably fill a page with everything he admired about Ben. He loved this man, had probably been in love with him for years. But he’d told him after the Fall Festival, and Ben hadn’t responded in kind, so it was easier for both of them to pretend it never happened. If he was brave enough, sometime, he would do it sober.

And then there was Hannah.

He wrote her name on the page. Wow, he had awful handwriting. It was blocky print, not like the loops and scrawls Hannah showed in all her notes. Nice handwriting. He snorted aloud after writing that, making her look over with her brow furrowed, and he shook his head dismissively. This task made him want to guard his paper, curling it protectively toward himself so no one else would read it. What a silly thing to start with. Beautiful. Funny. Quick-witted. Challenges me. Doesn’t let me get away with things. Spontaneous. Independent. Brave. He wrote “brave” and then underlined it, because she was so brave, taking on all of her business alone. Inquisitive. Curious. This list was barely a start.

He looked over these lists, trying to see them objectively. He cared about both of these people—maybe loved both of them—and yet they were so different. Ben was a team player and Hannah was fiercely independent. Ben was predictable, but Hannah was spontaneous. He had laughed himself to tears with Ben, but he could also imagine talking seriously through the night with Hannah. He loved Ben. He was falling in love with Hannah. They were different people, different feelings of love, existing simultaneously in this way that confused and overwhelmed him.

And this was just the first part of the evening.

…

Kate had given them some time to skim the documents, so Ben leafed through the collection of materials in his folder, his sense of being overwhelmed quickly yielding to fascination. He loved paperwork. The folder included a glossary of terms about polyamory and then a whole page of different types of polyamorous relationships. He hadn’t known there were so many. They’d included a New York Times article on the subject as well as a list of suggested reading. Finally, there were some polyamory conversation starters, ways to talk to your partners about it, and common issues and resources for managing them. The next task was to practice role-playing conversations.

Walter handed out envelopes with instructions and topics. Hannah and Mitchell watched Ben expectantly as he pulled out a scenario from the envelope and read it. “Okay. The situation is I’m feeling jealous after watching you with someone else, and I want reassurance that you still find me desirable. Who wants to start with this one?”

Mitchell cleared his throat. “Could…uh…could I do that one?”

Ben stared. Shit, he hadn’t expected that. He handed over the slip of paper. Mitchell pulled out the list of sentence starters Kate and Walter had included in their folder. He directed his questions to Hannah.

“I like seeing you with Ben.” He paused, considering his words, then continued. “I keep thinking that you’d never choose me over him. I would like some reassurance that you aren’t going to forget about me.”

Hannah’s smile dipped, as Mitchell’s words seemed more sincere than she’d probably expected. It certainly felt that way to Ben. Hannah’s eyes flicked to Ben before she returned to Mitchell, and then she took a minute to look through the same list of sentence starters.

“Thank you for sharing that with me. The things I like about you and Ben are completely different.” Hannah paused and seemed to look for her words, but Mitchell took the silence to press on.

“I don’t want to feel replaceable.” He swallowed visibly. There wasn’t any serious emotion in his voice, no tears or sadness, but he seemed as intense as Ben had seen him. “With this kind of relationship, I don’t know where the commitment is. I feel like I’m just waiting to be tossed aside. For Ben, for somebody else, whatever.”

They hadn’t talked about commitment, but their connection had shifted to something different than pure friendship, and even Ben knew it.

Hannah pressed her lips together, her expression thoughtful. “I think…it’s not about being together because we don’t have another choice, or because we made the choice one time and we’re locked in forever. Going forward with this is about choosing to…keep choosing? If that makes sense. I’m choosing you not instead of someone else, but just for you. Because you’re you.”

Mitchell frowned, contemplative.

Hannah shifted and grabbed Mitchell’s hands. “Okay. I’m gonna get real direct here.” She exhaled. “Being with you isn’t like being with someone else. You’re smart, and you’re funny, and you’re so passionate about the things you care about. I love the way you care about your work, and your friends, and I love to see how much you care about Ben.”

Mitchell flushed, color rising into his neck and the tips of his ears, and he shook his head. “It’s all right. I don’t need a big list of my good qualities. I wasn’t fishing for compliments.” He started to pull his hands back.

“I’m not just giving you compliments.” Hannah took his hands again. “You have to know I’m choosing you because I want to be with you. Not because I think I have to, or because I’m biding time for someone better or something.”

Mitchell smiled, something softening in his expression, and then he chuckled. “This is supposed to be hypothetical, isn’t it?”

“Meh.” Hannah shrugged and let go of his hands. “We might as well be honest, right?” Then she looked over at Ben, sitting beside them and watching the whole interaction. “What about you?”

Ben licked his lips. Okay. If she wanted honesty, he could give her honesty. “Talking about this…scares the shit out of me.”

“This particular situation, from the card?” Hannah pointed to Mitchell’s slip of paper. “Or polyamory in general?”

“Commitment.” He swallowed. “I haven’t been in a romantic relationship in a really long time, and I got pretty fucked-up over it. Ever since then, when I start to feel like I might have stronger feelings than just fooling around, I generally leave.” He rubbed his hands on his thighs, and the friction was enough sensation to make him feel more grounded in his body. “I know I’ve lost out on years because of this. And I don’t want to lose any more.” He looked at both Hannah and Mitchell, these two people who meant more to him than anyone had in a long time. “I don’t want to keep running away.”

Before they could respond, Walter brought the conversations to a close. Shivers lingered on Ben’s skin after his confession, his words more honest than he had been in a long time. Thank goodness the next part of the workshop just involved some sitting and listening to info about polyamory. Then they transitioned to an open conversation piece, where they moved the chairs into a big circle and then were able to ask questions of Kate and Walter themselves.

A few questions in, somebody on the far side of the circle raised her hand. She was a young woman with long blond braids, and while at first glance she didn’t seem old enough to be at a workshop like this, on closer look, she was clearly in her midtwenties instead of her midteens.

“So.” She sandwiched her hands between her knees. “How do you keep from developing feelings for the people you’re sleeping with?”

Kate nodded. “That’s a really good question. Do you mind sharing your name?”

“Sloane.”

“Thanks, Sloane. So let me ask you a question back, since that’s usually how we do things.” She smiled gently. “Why don’t you want to develop feelings for the people you’re sleeping with? What kind of feelings are you trying to avoid?”

Sloane twisted her fingers together. “Well, I know that polyamory is about being in love with lots of people, but I…am really scared of that.”

“Okay. Let’s unpack that a little.” Kate looked very calm and open to the conversation. “Why are you afraid of falling in love with more than one person? Or of falling in love at all?”

Sloane looked baffled. She opened her mouth for a moment but didn’t speak for a few full seconds. “Love gets complicated. I don’t know if they love me back, or if they want any kind of relationship with me, or if they’ll get weirded out by it and just never want to see me again. Sometimes I just want to fuck somebody.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Can I say ‘fuck’?”

Everyone laughed, including Kate and Walter, and it broke the tension.

“Sloane.” Walter leaned forward. “Your question isn’t a bad one. My answer is going to sound kind of like I’m not answering you, but I’m going to try. If you want to have multiple sexual relationships without any other connection beyond casual sex, that’s fine. Have fun and be safe. There’s nothing wrong with that. Most people wouldn’t consider that polyamory, but that doesn’t mean it’s unhealthy or morally wrong in the slightest.” He smiled warmly. “On the other hand, it’s not a bad thing to develop emotional attachment to someone that you’re sexually active with. Kate and I, and most other polyam practitioners, ascribe to the belief that there’s nothing wrong with falling in love with someone, or many people, even if that person or those people don’t love you back in the same way.”

Kate picked up. “You can’t control your love in the way that you only put yourself out there when you’re absolutely sure someone else shares your feelings at the same level and intensity as yours. That’s not possible. Somebody has to make the first move and take the risk.”

“But it’s not even really a risk, because you can’t control someone else’s response and you’re not trying to. Polyamory isn’t about that.” Walter looked like a sincere British professor giving a thoughtful lecture on his favorite topic. “Loving someone doesn’t mean you have to be in a romantic relationship with them, certainly not a monogamous one. You might love them with a deep and abiding friendship kind of love. And even if you become romantically involved with someone, that doesn’t mean you have to stay together forever, or that your relationship has to stay the same. If you are okay to let go of some of the expectations of monogamy, you can be free to feel emotions, or not, and accept whatever develops.”

A wave of heat and then cold washed over Ben. He had never thought about it in those terms. If his feelings didn’t have to make him do anything, if he could just have feelings and they didn’t make him beholden to any particular course of action, then maybe he could open himself up to the feelings he’d been putting aside. Maybe love didn’t mean risking friendship.

Sloane was nodding as Kate and Walter finished their spiel. “Okay,” she said.

“Does that help?”

“Yeah, I think so.” She let out a nervous laugh. “It’s scary.”

“Lots of this is scary.” Kate smiled a warm smile at the girl, and then at the rest of the room.

Well, she was definitely right about that.

…

As the questions began to wind down, Hannah finally got up the courage to ask what she’d been wanting to ask. “This all seems good in theory. But…do people really make this last, like, long-term? Can someone love someone else, multiple people, and stay with them, and stay happy? It happens?”

“It does happen.” Walter seemed to remember something from his past; he looked up and to the side before adjusting his glasses and coming back to the present. “Sometimes forever, sometimes just for a long time, but the love is real and valid no matter what. It shouldn’t be denied. When you love, whether it’s one person or many, that love binds you together in ways that are beautiful and multifaceted. Even if you move on from that love, that person will always be a part of who you are.”

How could something be both exhilarating and terrifying all at once? Hannah had been playing with this idea of seeing multiple people for weeks now, but she hadn’t really believed it had potential. If she didn’t believe that love was possible this way, it was easier to move forward with Mitchell and Ben. She’d written off their time together as an experiment, a fling with an eventual expiration date. But…if this could be forever? God, she wanted it, and wanting it felt terrifying. Right now, sitting at the cusp of what could be love, all she had to do was believe and she’d be willing to risk it all.

Kate and Walter were right. Loving Ben and Mitchell, both of them, was going to change her in ways that she could never undo. She had been safe. She had been self-sufficient and independent. She hadn’t failed any relationships because she hadn’t taken the risk. Now she was looking at something different. There was even a fancy term for it—a closed triad, a relationship between three people. To make it work, she would need to do all those things she hated, like being vulnerable and asking for help.

The safest option, the one that wouldn’t ask her to risk her heart and her independence and her pride, was to shut off those emotions altogether. Yeah, maybe it wasn’t polyamory. Maybe it was just sex. But maybe that was all she could handle. That, at least, wouldn’t leave her heartbroken and alone.

She nodded when appropriate throughout the rest of the question-and-answer session, but her thoughts remained on her own best next steps. By the time the meeting finally drew to a close a little while later, she had made up her mind. People stuck around to talk to Kate and Walter, and Lori eventually shuttled everyone out the door, thanked Hannah and Ben and Mitchell profusely for the space rental and the beer, and then everyone was gone except the three of them standing upstairs.

Hannah faced the two men. If she was going to try to have the physical benefits without the emotional risks, she should practice right away. “So I was thinking, maybe you guys could both come back to my place?”

As she drove home, Mitchell and Ben following close behind, her decision settled more comfortably on her shoulders. They would fuck, and she’d make sure she could enjoy the sex without having feelings attached to it. She’d had a lot of meaningless sex in her day; what was another fling? Enough of these long, soul-baring conversations. She didn’t want to end up needing Ben and Mitchell for more than friendship and warming her bed. She needed only herself.

The queasiness in her stomach was just from anticipation.

The night was cold, and the wind whipped around Hannah as she found her keys in her coat pocket and unlocked the front door. Her hands were shaking. That was weird. She should be excited about the upcoming sex, not nervous. She’d already made up her mind, and Ben and Mitchell were getting out of their car behind her. The ship had sailed.

She put on a smile as she turned on the lights to her living room. Ben and Mitchell followed in behind her, taking off coats and shoes, doing the regular shuffle of getting into a warm place after being cold outside. This was what it would look like if they lived together: they would each do this same shuffle after work, coming into their home, settling in, the three of them hanging out like a different style of family unit.

The thought made her breath catch in her throat. But no. She was putting those ideas aside. No risk of failure, no risk of depending on someone who would decide she wasn’t worth the effort. There were reasons to keep her emotions closed away. Surely she was making these choices for her own good.

Mitchell didn’t resist as she stepped in and kissed him. After a second, he stepped back, using a hand on her shoulder to keep her away.

“Wait. Don’t you think we should talk, after that workshop?” He looked over at Ben, who gave a slight nod. “That was a lot. I feel like we should talk about this thing between us. Clarify what we want.”

“I don’t want to talk.” Hannah licked her lips. “I think we’ve been talking too much lately. Can’t we just have fun?” A panicked desperation was welling up inside her, that longing to feel instead of think. “Ben? What do you say?” Ben had always been the one who put his emotions aside. He kept his distance. He would be with her in this. She reached out for him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him even closer.

Ben shrugged. “If she doesn’t want to talk, Mitchell, she doesn’t want to talk.”

Mitchell took Hannah’s face in his hands, studying her, his eyes only a few inches away from hers, their noses nearly brushing. He had the look like he wanted to say something else, but instead he only kissed her, bruisingly hard, holding her in place. The power he exuded weakened her knees and sent shivers racing down her spine. Yes, this was what she wanted. She reached up to grip his arms for balance.

The kiss ended, and she wanted more. Reaching over to one side, she grabbed Ben instead, dragging his mouth down to hers. Mitchell was so close she could feel him, and she pulled at him as well, her movements awkward as she fumbled both men closer. The need to feel them here, the solidity of their presence, rose like a living thing inside her.

She wanted this. And she wanted it tomorrow, and next week, and forever. Fuck, she was thinking of forever. This desire running rampant through her veins wasn’t just for pleasure, for sexual release, but for the intimate closeness, both physical and emotional. Maybe instead, she could lose herself in this moment. Maybe sex would be enough to quiet her brain. Maybe right now, maybe forever, this could be enough.

…

Damn, Mitchell should have known this was going to be a bad idea. Hannah was acting like there was a wall between them. She’d been closed off since the last part of the workshop, and now she was groping them like some kind of lust-filled animal. He didn’t want this, or at least, he didn’t want to limit their relationship to this, as much as he tried to convince himself that sex was almost as good as love. Worst of all, though, Ben seemed fine with this parody of what they’d shared together before.

Now, as he tumbled into Hannah’s bed with her and Ben, his physical desires waned against the empty feeling inside his heart. God, he shouldn’t push this. That emptiness represented everything he wanted and couldn’t have. The people in his life were giving him something, friendship and sex, and that was more than some people ever got. Wanting something different was selfish. Fuck every single part of him that wanted something other than this. If this was what the other two wanted, he would have to be all right with it.

Hannah was amazing. She was smart, independent, and strong-willed, and she challenged him. He had seen what was possible for all of them today in that workshop. They could have something special, the three of them together. Instead, though, she didn’t want to talk. She seemed to want…less than before.

Hannah rolled over and faced him, her eyes bright and her hair loose and wild across the pillow. God, she was beautiful, and her beauty hit him again as though it were the first time. Now, reaching out to kiss her, a thought came to mind that this might be the last time he ever did so. He tasted her lips, opened her mouth with his, delved inside while he held her body against his. Ben moved on the other side of her, his hands skimming over her skin as well.

Could he forget himself in her body like this? If he tried to quiet his mind, maybe he could let go and just give in to his desire to fuck her. His dick could lead the way. Lots of guys let their dicks take over. Ben probably did it most of the time.

The thought about Ben brought him up short, too. His body was still going through the motions of kissing Hannah, but his mind raced with thoughts about Ben kissing Hannah as well, Ben sharing this woman with him. God, he wanted that. Why couldn’t he be satisfied with what he was getting?

He broke the kiss and slid off the bed all in one motion, because if he didn’t do it all at once, he might not do it at all, and he wanted to be done with this.

Hannah gaped up at him, blinking heavy-lidded eyes in confusion, and Ben looked equally baffled by his sudden move.

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head. Now that he was out of the bed, he had to get out immediately. At least they were still all fully clothed.

“What’s wrong?” Hannah propped herself up on one elbow. “Where are you going? Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” Mitchell ran a hand through his hair. “Tonight, all that conversation, I need to think. I can’t just”—he gestured at them—“do this. Without talking about anything first.”

He paused, halfway to the door. Shit. He was Ben’s ride home.

Ben seemed to read his mind. “I can call a cab or something.”

“I can give you a ride.” Hannah touched Ben’s arm, and the casual intimacy of her gesture made Mitchell ache. He wanted more, and she barely wanted anything…or at least, maybe not with him.

“Okay. Ben, I’ll…see you.” It was an awkward exit, and he felt awkward as hell rushing down the stairs like he was fleeing some kind of scene of a crime, or trying to get out of a lover’s house before their spouse came home, complete with the wave of shame and guilt. He pulled on shoes and coat at the door, not wanting to linger in case he was stopped, but also…well, also kind of hoping they would stop him. He even paused a moment, keys in hand, just to hear if there were sounds upstairs. If he took his time, they could change their minds and come down and stop them. Was that the sound of someone standing up? A creak of hardwood floor? He waited another second, then one more. No one came to the stairs. No one raced down to beg him to stay.

He left.

The ride home was filled with the silence of the aftermath. He hadn’t even been in Hannah’s house long enough for the car to cool off. He turned on the heater, and the immediate warmth felt somehow even more humiliating. He hadn’t been able to see it through. He hadn’t had the strength, or fortitude, or whatever it was to be able to just have meaningless sex. Wasn’t this what guys did? Weren’t his former girlfriends always calling him emotionally unavailable? He had never had a real relationship with a guy, but he’d had plenty of short-term sex with them, and they never seemed interested in more, so he hadn’t pursued it. Maybe he would have failed at that, too. Damn him and his needy emotional bullshit.

Mitchell slowed down for a couple of pedestrians in the crosswalk. The couple in the road held hands, bathed in the light from streetlamps, laughing and talking in casual conversation. Past them, more couples walked along the sidewalks. Everywhere, couples—couples on the sidewalk, couples going into bars and shops, pairs of people wherever he looked.

A honk behind him broke his train of thought. Right; he was still sitting at crosswalk, so he pulled forward and drove on into the night. It would be weird for three of them to be together, anyway. This was a world for couples, not triads. Hannah didn’t want to date him. And Ben… Whatever Ben might be feeling, he hadn’t responded to Mitchell’s confession of love.

Right now, Hannah and Ben were probably fucking in ecstasy on the bed he had just vacated, enjoying the casual freedom of sex without consequences. He, the brokenhearted idiot that he was, was driving home alone instead.

…

The closing door reverberated all throughout the house. Hannah and Ben had stopped all sexual activity, lying in the same positions they had been in when Mitchell left the room. She was sitting half upright and Ben was sprawled beside her, propped up on his elbows. The silence left behind was deafening. She shifted, and the bed squeaked, but Mitchell didn’t come back upstairs. She waited for him to come back. Surely he would do what people did in the movies and run back into the room to kiss her and make love to her.

The thought of that idea, him making love to her, shook her as she sat silently in bed.

When the silence became too much, when it was clear that no one was coming back for them, they each moved on some unspoken signal. Ben scooted up to lean back against the headboard, and she joined him.

Ben turned to Hannah. “I know why he’s gone.” He didn’t need to ask if she did, too.

“He shouldn’t want something different.” Hannah had been very clear to him from the beginning. “He understood what he was getting into. Right? You both knew.”

“We all knew.” Ben reached out and touched her hand, his large fingers resting lightly on hers. “But shit’s changed. You can’t pretend everything’s the same as it was. And honestly, whatever you’re trying to do here, it isn’t gonna work for me, either. Mitchell was just braver than me to leave.”

Hannah turned her hand over, their palms touching lightly. She stared at their hands together and finally let out a sigh.

“Is this really what you want?” Ben closed his hand around hers, holding her gently but firmly.

His expression was so earnest, so honest, that she wanted to cry. Emotion clogged her chest, rushing in thick and fast. Her words sounded foggy. “I thought so.”

“Do you know how I feel about you?” Ben asked, but she wasn’t ready to hear that, and she shook her head.

“Please don’t. I can’t.” She kept shaking her head like the shaking might clear it, as if her brain were an Etch A Sketch. “I thought… This was supposed to be fine.” She looked up at Ben, and although she didn’t ask it, the question lingered in her mouth. Why isn’t this fine?

“Maybe this isn’t right for us. It’s too soon.” He squeezed her hand again before releasing it, disentangling their fingers. “We’ve had a lot going on lately.”

Hannah laughed, self-deprecating, her own annoyance coming through. “I can’t even do fuck buddies right.”

“Some people aren’t meant for that.” Ben shrugged. “Not everybody enjoys casual sex.”

“I’ve always enjoyed it in the past.” She could probably name a dozen guys she’d slept with and everything had turned out fine, exactly as casual and fun as she had wanted it to be. Sure, they hadn’t exactly known what they were doing, and she hadn’t wanted to see any of them a second time, but she had kept her bed warm and she could have orgasms if she wanted them.

“People change.”

The simple statement was too trite for her wealth of emotions right now. “So what? We just stop? We leave each other alone?”

“Maybe we just need some distance to sort things out.” Ben got to his feet.

Hannah nodded. It would be for the best. She was going to have to put all her attention into finding a job, anyway, when her business went under.

Their goodbye was casual, too casual, impermanent and awkward. In the aftermath, the house was silent.

God, the house was silent.