The Billionaire Throuple

Andreas Santiago [Part 2]

PART II: THROUPLE SECURED

Samuel the Third stormed out after laying everything out there for us. He's closed us in here and told us to decide. It was a bold move—one I'd have laughed him out of the room for a day ago—but ever since he poured his heart out to me and we laid in bed, I haven't stopped thinking about there being more between us.

More so, after the scare with Cam and passing out. It put things into perspective. Tomorrow isn't promised, neither is the next hour, minute or even second. So, if I can be happy in the ones I have, I should go for it. Screw whatever anyone else thinks.

In any relationship, there are three options: walk away, be friends or be together. For me, there is only one. Walking away from someone I have feelings for, relate to and actually feel the need to protect is senseless.

Being friends isn't an option for me, given my addiction. I might be able to hold off for a week, a month or a year, but eventually, I'm going to sample the fruits, why torture myself?

Now that he's put himself out there, waiting is like saying, "Nemo, please, after you, help yourself." Nope, fuck that, pun intended.

I look up at Nemo who's been in the same position with his arms crossed, staring holes into me for God knows how long. "So, neither of us are walking away, not after Sammy stood up to Cam and especially not you, given the whole bracelet proposal, right?"

He nods, barely. "What you got in mind?"

"We can't force him to choose. There's no way to make us honor his choice since he won't deny either of us," I say, thinking aloud, "So, share him. Unless I'm not seeing something."

"Share him?" Nemo chuckles and shakes his head. "What are we supposed to do, throw up a schedule or some?"

I nibble at my lip a little while I try to visualize that. Then, I have a revelation. "Why couldn't it be the three of us? We can make it work and if either of us decide it's not what we want, we go back to being friends, no hard feelings."

Nemo's lips curve slightly and his eyelids sort of relax. My face warms, looking back on my wording. "I mean, the three of us hanging out, not doing—actually, why not?" I ask.

He's better looking than Cam, in better shape and he's not a tool. I'm too young and life's too short to rule something out for being too complicated. I'm complicated. Worst case, we're back where we started.

Nemo shrugs, but he's smiling for the first time since Samuel the Third left the room. "You'd be cool with all that?"

His eyebrows raise like he's suggesting there's a major issue I glazed over. I think it all over again, considering all the possible things that could go wrong since this is kind of one of those spit in your palm, handshake type things.

Then, I see it. "Oh, I guess it didn't occur to me since you're all 'I'm too proud to accept handouts', but I'll protect Sammy-three, even from you, whether we agree on this or not."

"Ah, you ain't gotta worry about that," he says, "I mean, what's the deal with you and me?"

I squint at him for being vague. "What do you mean, exactly?" It takes me a few seconds and gestures to understand what he's really asking, but the perfect response pops into my head. One I know he'll love. "With you and me, let's say it's drizzling out, so the game's in the air, but you plan on staying on offense, Mr. QB."

He busts out laughing with me. "That's why we got a bubble though." He sighs as he walks over to sit down beside me. "About that, I'm actually thinking about switching to defense."

I scoot away. "I'll kickoff to Sammy-three, but you'll have to work something out with him."

"No, no!" He waves his hands. "Actual football. I talked to Coach Beverly about JUCO."