She and He and Him

For Pete’s Sake-3

Pete’s best friend was a handsome man named Bryan. They had met in college, and when Pete first introduced us, I was sure he and Bryan were a couple. Pete and I weren’t exclusive then, and he did say he was bi.

And Bryan was definitely gay.

He had all-American good looks—dirty blonde hair cut in a conservative style, dark brown eyes, and a perpetual tan. Bryan was Pete’s height, around the same age, too, and they met in a Biology lecture class their freshman year. Pete swore up and down nothing ever really happened between them, but I knew about the night shortly after we started dating when Bryan got drunk and showed up at Pete’s dorm room to force his friend to choose between him or me. Pete played it off—stuck Bryan in the shower fully dressed in an effort to sober him up, then held him as he blubbered about how much their friendship meant to him. “I love you, man,” Bryan had said, over and over again.

When Pete told me about it years later, he had added, “It was the booze talking, you know.”

Yeah, right.

After that night, Bryan started dating other guys and Pete was with me. When we got married, Bryan was the best man at our wedding. His toast brought tears to my eyes, and the only hint I had to his feelings for my husband was at the end, when he raised his glass and, staring at Pete, said it again. “I love you, man.”

Not drunk that time, and Pete didn’t think Bryan had meant it like that, but I knew better. I’d seen the way Bryan looked at Pete when he didn’t think anyone was watching—it was the same way I looked at him. And I knew Pete thought Bryan was attractive; hell, who wouldn’t? If we were going to do this threeway, who better to invite into our bed but someone already interested in joining us?

Well, I didn’t know that, yet. Bryan would drop trou in a heartbeat if Pete asked; of that, I had no doubt. But would he be kosher with me along for the ride?

To find out, I emailed Bryan to set up a lunch date. Just the two of us, I said, adding that I had an idea for a surprise for Pete’s birthday and wanted to run it by him first, since he knew Pete best. The fact that Pete’s birthday wasn’t for another four months didn’t seem to occur to Bryan. His response came back quickly, as if he were checking his email instead of showing potential buyers the home of their dreams.

Tomorrow works for me, he wrote. How about 12:30 at the Bistro? I have a client I need to meet in the morning, but you can have my undivided attention the rest of the day.

Worked for me.

I didn’t say anything to Pete—at least, not yet. I didn’t want to get his hopes up only to dash them if Bryan wouldn’t play by my rules. I drove downtown and arrived at the Bistro early, snagging a small table by the window so I could watch people passing on the street. I saw Bryan as he turned the corner, ruggedly handsome in a tan blazer and dark blue shirt. The first few buttons were undone, and I saw a hint of chest hair a shade lighter than what was on top of his head. As he walked, his pleated pants pulled taut across lithe thighs. He saw me and waved, his smile showing even, white teeth.

Yes, he’d do quite nicely.

I half-rose from my chair as he approached. One hand touched my elbow and he leaned down to kiss my cheek. He smelled spicy, a different type of cologne than what Pete favored, and it gave him an exotic appeal. “Hey, lady,” he said, reaching behind me to hold my chair as I sat. “How’s the Pete-ster?”

“Both of us are doing well,” I told him. He took the chair beside mine instead of the one across from me. “And you? Any new boy toys you want to tell me about?”

His smile turned pained for a second; he hid it quickly, but I saw it anyway. “None worth mentioning.”

“So, you’re free Friday night?” I ventured.

With a laugh, he shook his head. “Sheila, honey, one—I’m gay.”

“No s**t, Sherlock,” I joked. “Just watching you walk down the street made my gaydar go off. Ping ping ping!”

“Yes, well, two,” he added, “you’re married to my best friend. So even if I was into girl parts, which I am not, I’d turn you down for Pete’s sake.”

“Are you opposed to girl parts?” I asked.

Just at that moment, our waitress approached. She heard my question and raised her eyebrows. “I can come back,” she said.

I smiled up at her. “Give us a minute, will you? Thanks.”

When I looked back at him, Bryan was staring at me with an odd expression on his face. “Are you leaving Pete?” he wanted to know.

“What? No. God, no,” I said.

“Because if you are,” he continued, “I’m going to drive like a mad man across town and take him out Friday, not you.”

I felt myself grin foolishly. “I knew you were still in love with him.”

“Always have been, always will be,” Bryan admitted. “For all the good it’ll do me. You may know it, but he has no clue.”

Carefully folding my napkin into my lap, I said, “I’ll ask you again. Are you opposed to girl parts? If we were to invite you to…participate, as it were, in our bedroom activities Friday night, would you say no?”

Bryan stared at me intently. I had his full attention now. “You mean you, Pete, and me? In bed, together? Like a…what do you call it, a ménage étoile?”

“Ménage à trois,” I corrected. “So are you in, or what?”

A throat cleared above me and I looked up to see our waitress had returned. She looked from me to Bryan and back again, obviously unnerved. “Do you need another minute?” she asked, her voice squeaking slightly.

I opened the menu. “No, I think we’re—”

“Yes,” Bryan said suddenly. I glanced over. He was still staring at me, ignoring the waitress.

Cautiously, she asked, “Yes, you’re ready, or…”

“I’ll do it,” Bryan announced. He handed her the menu he hadn’t opened, as if that completed his order. “Friday night, you, me, and Pete? I’m in.”

I gave him a warm smile, then turned to the waitress. “Can I get the special, please? And he’ll have a burger with fries. Thanks.”

“You want cheese with that?” the waitress asked.

Bryan barked out a quick laugh. “Give me the works. I’m finally going to get it on with the man of my dreams.” Then he nodded at me. “And his beautiful wife.”

* * * *

I knew I couldn’t tell Pete too early who I had picked out for our s****l adventure—if he knew it was Bryan, he might back out. They were best friends, yes, and somehow I suspected that little fact would unnerve my husband. A complete stranger would be better, in his opinion, but I wasn’t ready to open my bedroom up to just anyone. I swore Bryan to secrecy, and told him to come by the house any time after nine on Friday evening. That would give me enough time to loosen Pete up a little.

When Friday rolled around, I came home from the office a little early and set about making Pete’s favorite meal: T-bone steaks seared to perfection, smothered in mushrooms, and paired with cheesy garlic mashed potatoes. I picked out a nice red wine to top off the dinner, and poured him a healthy glass as soon as he walked in.

Loosening his tie, he downed the wine the same way some men toss back a beer to relax. I removed his blazer and massaged his shoulders. “Rough day?” I asked.

“Long,” Pete conceded. He leaned his head back and sighed as my thumbs worked at the knots between his shoulder blades. “God, that feels good. Is there more wine?”

“A whole bottle,” I told him. “Drink up, babe. You’re going to need it.”

He headed for the kitchen, me trailing behind him with my hands still kneading his back. “Why’s that?” he wanted to know. “Do you have something particularly wicked up your sleeve for tonight?”

Coyly, I said, “A threesome, remember?”

Pete had lifted the bottle of wine to pour another glass, but now it froze in midair. He turned and carefully set the bottle down. “Is that tonight? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just did.” I took the bottle from him and filled his glass.

He stared at me but didn’t drink, so I nudged the bottom of the glass. It lifted to his lips automatically, and he drank it down in long gulps, his gaze never once leaving my face. When he set the glass on the kitchen table, I refilled it a second time, but he left it there.

“So,” he said. “We’re really doing this.”

I heard excitement creep into his voice and grinned. “Yeah, we are.” Running my hand down the front of his shirt, I began unbuttoning it. “Relax, hon. You’re going to enjoy this.”

“Yeah.” Nervous, now, and was that a little bit of fear I heard, too?

When his shirt was unbuttoned down to where it was tucked into his pants, I eased my arms under the fabric and around his waist to hug him tight. “It’ll be fun. I have a really awesome guy picked out—”

Pete asked, “Where’d you find him? Craig’s List?”

With a laugh, I propped my chin on his chest to look up at him. “You’ll see. Have some more wine. Dinner’s almost ready.”

* * * *

He raved about the food, like I knew he would. And he drank most of the wine himself; I only had one glass, and that was to calm my fluttering stomach. What would Pete say when he found out it would be Bryan joining us this evening? Would he be mad, embarrassed, shy…what?

I found out soon enough. A minute before nine, the doorbell rang, and two seconds later, Bryan knocked. Someone was eager to get started. I rose from my chair in the kitchen and kissed the top of Pete’s head as I passed him on my way to get the door. When I opened it, Bryan had a nervous look of his own in place, and I caught him as he was wiping his sweaty palms down the front of his jeans.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low.

Mine was bright and cheery. “Hey yourself, handsome. Come on in.”

When I turned, I saw Pete in the doorway leading to the kitchen, wine glass in hand, eyes wide in a ‘deer in headlights’ stare. As Bryan entered, Pete shook his head. “Sheila, no. This isn’t…”

I shut the door behind Bryan. “Isn’t what, dear?”

“I can’t do this,” Pete whispered in a small voice.

“Don’t you want to?” Bryan asked, disappointed.

Indecision warred on Pete’s face. He wanted to, yes, I could see it quite clearly in his eyes. But he didn’t want to ruin their friendship. As much as he wanted to take Bryan to our bed, he didn’t want s*x to come between them.

I would make sure it wouldn’t. Snaking an arm through Bryan’s, I pulled him closer to my husband, and then wrapped my free arm around Pete’s. “Boys, look,” I said gently, “this is going to be a little awkward, I know. But if anyone can make it work, we can. Bryan, you’ve wanted Pete forever—”

“Hell, yeah,” he sighed, giving Pete a seductive grin.

“And Pete,” I continued, “I know you like Bryan. Maybe you can lie to yourself and say you don’t find him sexy—”

“I never said that,” Pete hurriedly corrected me.

I laughed. “Right, well, we need some ground rules. My rule is I get to participate. Pete said he didn’t want to share me with another guy, so—”

He interrupted me again. “I meant some random guy,” he clarified. “If Bryan wants to fool around with you, too, then I’m okay with that.”

“Well, Bryan said no girl parts,” I pointed out.

“I might change my mind,” Bryan said. “So, are we going to do this, or just talk about it the rest of the night?”

Pete finished off his final glass of wine and set it on the nearest end table. His next words came out in a breathy rush. “Oh, hell yeah.”