Seven Days: The Complete Story (9 page)

Nicholas
swallows. He’s looking nervous now that we’re down to the business
end of their visit. Joel on the other hand is looking like the cat
that got the cream. “We’ve got a proposition for you.”

I don’t think
I’ve ever been ‘propositioned’.

“Go
ahead.”

“Have you got
anything to drink?”

“Don’t you
think it’s a little early?”

Nicholas
shrugs. “It’s beer o’clock somewhere in the world.”

I sigh. He
seems anxious, like he wants to say something important but is
afraid I’ll clock him over the head with a book when he does. “I
have cider, I think.”

I get up and
go to the kitchen. I scour the fridge and find three stray bottles
from a six-pack. I throw a few crackers onto a plate with some left
over cheese and dip because Mum always said you should offer guests
something to eat and drink. It’s only manners. Plus, I need a
minute to collect myself. Being so close to them both is making it
hard for me to think straight.

When I return,
the boys have their heads together. Their voices are low and I
can’t hear what they’re saying but it’s obvious it’s about me
because they instantly go quiet when they see me return. They look
like two school boys caught smoking behind the shelter sheds,
though I sense whatever it is they’re about to share might be a tad
more serious than who gets the last drag of the cigarette.

I put the
plate on the table and give them a bottle each. Then I sit
opposite, fighting the overwhelming urge to climb over it and curl
up in Nicholas’ lap. I can’t help it. The man is all unruly hair
and bare chest. How am I meant to resist that?

I take a swig
of my drink, forgetting that the time has only recently ticked over
to lunch. “So, what’s up?”

They look at
each other. They don’t seem to know what to say or maybe who should
say it. For some reason they seem hesitant. Then, Joel speaks,
“Nick and I mulled this over all last night and we’ve talked about
it again this morning.”

“Like I said,”
Nicholas adds. “The ocean has a way of giving you clarity.”

“Yeah,” Joel
agrees. “Whatever. Anyway, we’re assuming after what happened, that
you like
both
of us.” He gestures to his friend as if to
confirm what the three of us already know. “You don’t seem like the
type of girl who goes round hooking up with everything that
walks—”

Ah, like,
duh
.

“I’m not.”

“But you like
us both.”

I wish they’d
get to the point. I pick up my cider and take another swig. I don’t
know why I’m so uncomfortable with this conversation. I’ve had far
more awkward ones. “You have some form of solution for my
dilemma?”

“Yeah. A
threesome.”

And my cider
spurts from my mouth across the table. Tiny bubbles of it land in
the dip. Even more embarrassingly a few land on Joel’s chest. I
begin to cough. I’m choking. Oh, this is hectic. I’m going to die
before I ever get to contemplate having sex with the two men who
just propositioned me.

Nicholas moves
to my side of the table. He slaps me on the back. His hand lingers
even after I stop coughing.

“What? Like,
with you two?” I ask, looking up at him. I must sound like a
complete moron but, come on, how many of us would ever get
propositioned in this way unless they’re on some reality show?

“Yeah.”

“Like, at the
same time?” I know that they think I’m clueless about this but I’m
actually in shock. I’m beyond confused.

“That’s the
general definition of a threesome I believe,” Joel quips.

Smart
arse.

“Are you
mental
?”

On the other
side of the table, Nicholas chuckles.

“Gay,
then?”

Not that I
have anything against the way people express their love but… hey.
And if that’s what this is really about and they think they can use
me to experiment or something, they’ve seriously picked the wrong
girl.

“Nope. Not
gay,” Joel says. “Can’t speak for the big guy, of course, but I’ve
never had a romantic thought about him in my life. I want you. So
does Nick. This seems like the logical way to get what the three of
us want. All jealousies aside.”

Well, for a
man maybe. But it’s about sex for them, isn’t it? I mean, I know
men fantasise about this kind of stuff but isn’t it two girls and a
guy? I’ve never heard of two blokes and a girl in my life. I’m sure
it happens. It’s just that it doesn’t happen with me. I’m nice,
sensible Sadie. I don’t sleep with men I hardly know, let alone two
of them at the same time. And frankly, I’m a little bit cross that
this is what they want me to do.

Okay, a lot
cross.

“What the hell
do you take me for? I’m not going to be hopping into bed with
either of you any time soon, especially not at the same time. I
have standards.”

Nicholas looks
dismayed. “No, Sadie no. No one’s suggesting you’re anything but
the sweet, honest girl you are. I don’t think you’re some bit of
scruff. And Joel doesn’t think it either.”

“Then what the
hell
do
you think? First you tell me you’d most likely kill
each other if I were with either one of you, now you’re asking me
to have a threesome? Is this some kind of joke because I’m not
finding it funny.”

“We’re not
joking.”

Right. Well at
least we have that straight. They’re not in love with each other
and they want to have sex with me. Together. “So. Hypothetically.
How do you propose we’re going to have this threesome? Are you
going to be able to deal with the jealousy if we do it and I decide
I like one of you better? Won’t you want to kill each other all
over again? What will that mean for your business together? And
what about my feelings?”

Wow. I said
that so fast I almost sounded like Emily.

Nicholas pulls
the chair out that’s beside me. He straddles it; his knees are
close to my thigh. I can feel the warmth of his body on my leg and
we’re not even touching. “It will be an arrangement, a strictly
no-strings-attached thing.”

“But I’m going
to know who’s doing what. I mean, I will be able to see you, feel
you.”

“Not if it’s
completely dark, or you’re blindfolded. This’ll be about pleasure
only. For the three of us. We’ll remain equal.”

“But your
hair, it’s completely different to Joel’s. And your voices…”

I can’t
believe I’m even having this discussion. There’s no way I’m going
to do it. Is there?

“We’ve got a
plan. One of the rules will be that you won’t be allowed to touch
anywhere above the neck.”

There are
rules? I sit with my mouth open. I don’t know what to say. This is
not Fifty Shades of Threesome. I won’t be signing any stupid
contracts or engaging in kinky shit. I’m not bloody Anastasia
Steele.

“When you
leave the bay, that will be the end of it,” Joel says, calmly.
“Finito. Holiday romance over. We’ll never see each other again.
This is strictly for pleasure.”

Which would be
right up Joel’s alley given his aversion to commitment.

I pick up my
cider and drain the rest of the bottle. I am dumbfounded but of
course, I’m not going to take them up on their offer so the
logistics of the thing mean nothing. It’s hypothetical. I mean, how
could I? The idea of me having a threesome is beyond ridiculous,
even if they don’t think so. I cannot comprehend such a
thought.

But then
Nicholas looks at me, his large blue eyes search mine and he blinks
twice. Slowly.

Oh God. I’m
going to give in. Despite what my brain is telling me is right,
despite the huge warning signs flashing above his head I know I’m
going to give in.

*****

I wander about
the house with my head somewhere in the erotic clouds. After two
hours of discussion, I’ve agreed, tentatively, to meet the guys at
a club tonight where we’ll have a few drinks to get in the mood for
the ‘big event’. There’s no pressure on me and if I say no at the
last minute that’ll be it, they’ve agreed to accept any change of
heart. So this thing, if it happens, is up to me. I might have
agreed in theory, but I know when the moment comes my conscience
may well override any desire I have. Because when it all boils down
to it, I don’t know if I can have sex for the sake of it. It
doesn’t matter who’s asking.

At six, still
torn by indecision, I ring Emily but there’s no answer. It’s not
like her and it makes me worry so I leave her a message and send
her a text to call me. I need to know she’s safe. She’s all I have
left in the world.

By seven, I’ve
made up my mind to go through with it. I’ve de-haired every inch of
my body, plucked my eyebrows, given myself a home pedicure and
finished painting my fingernails. I’ve never given this much
thought to the way I look for seduction before, but I figure if
there’s going to be two men inspecting me, I have to look twice as
good. I’ve even straightened my hair, a process that can take hours
given it’s thickness, but I like how I look when it’s straight.
It’s sophisticated and grown up, not me. I’m someone else. I’m
feeling nervous now and a little excited. The butterflies I used to
get before I went on stage in dance competitions have resurfaced
and are flittering madly in my stomach. I actually feel rather
queasy.

At almost
nine, I pack my phone, lipstick and some money in my clutch. I go
to the toilet for the seventeenth time and as I smooth my dress
over my hips, I silently thank Emily for insisting I throw it in my
bag when I was packing. Then, with a deep breath, I head for the
door.

I reach the
club about ten minutes later. There’s a queue and the door bitch
looks me up and down while scrutinising my ID. It doesn’t phase me,
I get asked how old I am all the time so I smile sweetly at her,
knowing that every bit of ID she’ll now ask to see will tell her
the same thing. I’m twenty-one. After making her point by getting
the security guy to check inside my shoes and pat me down in search
of drugs — ‘cause I really look like I’m a dealer — she allows me
entry. I can’t believe she’s made a fuss simply because she can.
Some people are on such a power trip.

Inside, I walk
around the bar looking for Nicholas and Joel. We decided to meet in
the furthest corner from the door but the guys aren’t here yet
which is doing little for the second and third thoughts I’m having
about this. I’m more nervous than before. So nervous, in fact, the
minute I receive my first drink I knock it across the counter of
the bar without even having a sip. The second drink disappears in
much the same fashion because my hand is shaking, so I decide to
buy two straight shots of tequila for my third attempt. Firstly,
the glasses are so small I can’t possibly knock another one over
and secondly, if I drink it fast, I might loosen up and calm down.
Because right at this minute, I think I’m going to throw up. My
stomach is in my mouth and the butterflies I felt before I left
home are clomping around inside it, wearing boots. I have no idea
what possessed me and I certainly don’t know why I spent the last
four hours preparing like I’m going to an up close and personal
photo shoot. I am not a threesome kind of girl. I’m so confused. I
don’t know what kind of girl I am any more.

I down my two
shots and order a glass of champagne and some water. The barman
frowns at my swift ordering of drinks but says nothing. He probably
sees girls every night who come here to pick up. Lonely girls on
holiday looking for a bit of fun and ordering Dutch courage to make
it easier. Is that what I am? Are the guys taking advantage of me?
Have they spotted that I’m vulnerable and are swooping in for the
kill? Maybe they do this all the time. Despite what they’re saying,
they could be serial threesome types and everything they’ve done
for me so far is part of their routine.

Why am I even
here?

I take a glug
of my champagne; the bubbles go up my nose. Deciding that I never
should have consented to this insanity, I pick up my purse to leave
and turn… SMACK!… into the rock hard chest of Joel. His hands fly
to my elbows, steadying me. A flicker of attraction builds and
explodes as my eyes travel slowly towards his face where a waiting
eyebrow quirks in my direction.

“Going
somewhere?”

“Um, hi.” Wow.
He looks hot. Literally sizzling, in fact. He’s wearing dark jeans
and a crisp white shirt. There’s a leather thong at his throat with
something heavy and silver hanging from it. His hair is newly
washed and still damp, I can smell the shampoo. And he’s shaved.
The skin of his jaw looks so smooth; I just want to touch it. I
swallow. “I was just, um, just popping to the loo.”

“You weren’t
leaving?” He sounds almost sad, as if he’d be devastated if I had
decided to leave.

“Of course
not.” I try to relax my smile but I know I’m showing a lot of teeth
and probably look like some sort of deranged person who forgot to
take her medication. “Order me another drink, I’ll be back in a
tick.”

And with that
I race to the toilet, which is lucky because, by the time I get
there, I find I really do have to go. Again. Damn nerves.

So, I’m
standing in line, jiggling my leg and checking out the clothes of
the other girls in the queue — one has a rather nice pair of
strappy sandals and these cute pants — when my phone vibrates in my
clutch. It’s Emily.

“I rang you
hours ago,” I admonish. “I left three messages and a text. I was so
worried. Where are you?”

“Calm down,
Clarice,” Emily replies, with a giggle. I, so, hate it when she
calls me that. “I could ask you the same thing—”

Huh?

“—I’m at
yours. Where the hell are
you
? I turned up expecting to find
you curled up in your jimjams eating chocolate and reading one of
those inane books you like but it’s blacker than the inside of my
wardrobe in your house.”