The boys are at another sleepover.
Two years ago, Darren and I were deep in the morass of the kids’ schedule; everything we did revolved around them and keeping them entertained. We used to go months without having moments together that weren’t first thing in the morning or just before we passed out at night. Somewhere along the way, that clearly changed. Well, maybe not changed, but shifted a little bit — just enough that it’s a Friday night, and Darren and I are at a midnight showing of some action movie neither of us cares even a lick about.
“Do you want some popcorn?” he asks, steering me toward the concession stand.
“Sir, did you forget why we’re here?”
He looks at me for a few seconds before smiling. “Red Vines?”
“I hate you,” I whisper. “Yes, please.”
He bends down and kisses me softly on the lips like he used to when we were still dating, and he was still shocked that I’d chosen him. “You want to wait in line with me or go…wow, can I finish asking the question?” he calls to me, but I’m already walking away.
“I’ll pick good seats, babe,” I say, waving over my head.
“Wow.”
We chose the late-night showing hoping the theater would be as empty as possible. Honestly, Darren and I had given the exact date, time, and movie far more consideration than Jourdan probably imagined. So much that we made a pact not to tell her any of the details about this days-long discussion for fear she would realize just how old and boring we really are.
When I walk into the theater, I let out a small sigh of relief that turns into a yelp of surprise when a floor vent shoots up my dress as I walk past. A younger couple turns to me in confusion, and I smile awkwardly at them, rushing up the stairs.
We had an entire conversation about where to sit; another thing we won’t be telling Jourdan. After much consideration, we decided as far back as possible in the middle of the aisle or as far away from other people as we can manage. This action film has been in theaters for weeks, box office sales have been trending down, and a new action movie — with much better reviews — just released today. There are three small clusters of people in the theater, but the back few rows are completely empty.
I walk up the stairs and sit in the middle of the back row. I place my purse in the seat to my right and my coat in the seat to my left. I scout other places we could move to just in case some latecomers decide to sit too damn close.
My heart is pounding.
It only strikes me now that we didn’t have to do this. Jourdan asked Darren to fulfill a fantasy we’d harbored for years but decided — for damn good adult reasons — not to indulge. We could have said no. We could have explained to her in more detail how we’d come to our conclusion, although that probably would have exposed the nerdiest side of our relationship. But we never did. That night, Darren had come to bed, and I’d told him about the time I spent with Jourdan — the sex he heard and the easy lunch he’d facilitated — while he held me close and fucked me slow and deep.
We never even considered not giving in to Jourdan’s request. In fact, for the past few days, Darren and I have fucked one another whenever we had the chance, weaving our fantasy and Jourdan’s request into something that makes me wet even just thinking about it.
“Well, don’t you look cute?”
I’m not sure if I should be shocked that Jourdan’s here or not, but I am. Somehow, in all of our fantasizing about tonight, we’d never considered the possibility. We’d gotten off on the expectation that when it was over and done with, we’d call Jourdan and get her off as we told her everything we’d done.
I don’t know why we’d just assumed she wouldn’t be here, but she is, and once again, I realize that her ability to view this relationship so differently from Darren or I is more than a good thing; it’s something we needed.
“Oh my God,” I breathe. “What are you doing here?”
Jourdan’s holding a small popcorn and soda in her hands and grinning down at me. She nudges the seat with my coat, and I snatch it away. She uses her butt to press the seat down, puts her soda in the cup holder, and carefully places her popcorn on the floor at her feet. She bounces toward me with a smile.
“I thought about not coming,” she says, “but I’ve been thinking about this all day.”
“We could have called you,” I say, feeling guilty for some reason.
“Oh, really?” she purrs, licking her lips. But then she shakes her head. “Been there, done that. We don’t want to get too comfortable just yet. And this way, you can keep your lines open just in case.”
I can’t believe how soft that last sentence makes me feel.
“Are you nervous?” she asks.
I look around the theater. There’s no one near us, no one close enough to hear what we’re saying, and even if they were, they wouldn’t understand. But I look, nonetheless.
Jourdan laughs. “Yeah, I’ll take that as a yes.”
I jump when her fingers caress my wrist and then dance down my forearm to my elbow. There are goosebumps all over my body.
“I like this dress,” she whispers.
“Darren bought it for me.”
“He bought the robe too, right?”
I nod.
Her palm grazes my hip. “I love the way he sees you. You have no idea how lucky you are.”
Her words make me gasp softly. “Yes, I do. Believe me.”
Her hand moves down my thigh. We’re watching one another while her palm clutches my knee possessively.
I spread my legs for her. I don’t look around to see if anyone is watching us.
I don’t care.
Darren clears his throat, and I jump.
And then I jump again when Jourdan’s fingers graze my mound.
We both turn to him. My eyes are wide, and my mouth falls open.
“Whose idea was it for her not to wear any underwear?” Jourdan giggles.
My husband grunts in response.