Chapter 3

“So, wait, you’re dating BOTH ladies?” Brent’s friend Eric reacted with real shock now.

“That he is. Both of us. And we’re together, too. It’s not a V. It’s a full-on menage a trois, sugar,” Deanna blushed a little as she admitted to a polyamorous triad.

“That it is. We’re bi, after all,” Summer confessed with a wink for her lovers.

“And you’re all cool with this, happy as a clam, knowing that he could impregnate both of you, but can’t marry both of you,” Eric inquired further, his eyes about bugging out now.

“He’s gonna marry both of us. It just won’t be official or legal, that’s all. And you’re invited to be the best man, hoss. As for pregnancy, well, we’re working on that in a mad dash, trust me. We both want to be his baby mamas! He’s a great guy, you know. What, are you jealous?” Deanna assured Eric while teasing him a bit.

“Yeah, you wish that you could be a stud to two luscious women like us, all three of us in bed a lot, that is? Who knows, maybe your luck could change?” Summer winked at him now while checking out the menu at the local diner.

“That’s right. One never knows. So, are you up for it or not? Being my best man at my three-way nuptials?” Brent asked Eric directly now.

“Of course! You’re my buddy! What else would I do? I’m just a bit envious, that’s all,” Eric blushed himself now.

“Hey, that’s only human, bro. Honestly, though, if you had to pick an ideal partner or two, or more, for that matter, who would they be, what sex, what type, etc. Any thoughts?” Brent probed a bit deeper now.

“That’s the problem. I can’t ... date my dream girl. She’s ... Cassidy,” Eric finally confessed.

“Your stepsister? Well, she’s not blood, so, well, you know... , “ Deanna teased Eric a bit as she selected meatloaf and mashed potatoes.

“Might as well be blood, for all my chances with her. I grew up with her. She’s the only sibling that I’ve ever had. You know that! We’re exactly six months apart in age, too! She babysat me for six months, too, until I turned eighteen as well. Think how fucking awkward it would be, trying to ask her out, with her recalling those embarrassing moments, yeah, no! Not a shot in Hell!” Eric ranted at his bad luck at being smitten with his stepsister.

“I heard that she’s gay. No one’s proven it, though,” Summer remarked while deciding on chicken-fried steak.

“Not gay. She’s definitely into dudes, though she hasn’t dated anyone lately. More of an ice queen on that issue, I’d say. Unapproachable. Unattainable. You get the idea. I can see where the rumors get started, of course. Woman shoots down every guy around, gossip spreads,” Eric clarified, trying to push past his frustration.

“Are you a one-woman man, Eric?” Brent asked his friend directly now as he went for a ham steak and some hominy.

“Not sure, to be totally frank. Never much thought about it. I’ve dated a few girls, even got engaged to one, but that fell through, didn’t it? She fucking cheated on me with Troy,” Eric griped while choosing the fried chicken.

“Yeah, he’s a douchebag. I fucked up exactly the same way, Eric. With the same motherfucker, too. Trust me. Your ex has great taste in boyfriends, lousy-ass taste in cheating partners, if you ask me. Did you know that he’s ... in jail? No joke. He raped a woman who turned him down just recently. He’s just bad news all around,” Summer admitted with some embarrassment now.

“Facing trial. I’ve heard. I somehow doubt that he’ll be convicted, but nowadays, with the whole #MeToo business, who knows? In any case, I hope that it puts a real kybosh on his social life once he’s out,” Eric agreed with some schadenfreude that the prick Troy had been caught.

“Or that his dance card is filled with Bubba, Bubba, and Bubba!” Brent laughed at his own joke.

“He’d have it coming, no doubt of that,” Summer winked at her lovers and Eric.

“Anyway, back to more fun topics. My kid sister Erin is back in town, and you know what that means,” Deanna teased.

“More burgers than Wimpy, but at least she’s charming about it! That girl eats so many burgers that she must have a superhero’s metabolism or a circus acrobat’s at least. Also, I’m worried that she’s gonna preach at you. You know, about gettin’ right with Jesus and all that jazz,” Brent chuckled at the burger part at least.