Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 58(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 58(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
This is a m/m/m short story.
Life’s been hard for the love triplets.
Abusive home life. Cruel kids at school. Hateful town.
The only love they’ve known is each other.
When they turn eighteen, they leave to make a life of their own, free of pain and sadness.
It’s better than they could have ever imagined.
Until new feelings emerge, threatening to destroy the only thing they care about…each other.
They’re brothers. Best friends. Together from the beginning.
Can they be lovers, too, or will this steal the only bit of happiness they’ve ever known?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
Dexter
The betrayal in his amber eyes lashes at me harder than any whap of Dad’s belt used to. At least, back then, I could just mentally block out the hatred from my father. Hide in a place he couldn’t find me while he beat the shit out of me.
I can’t hide from this.
Never him.
Not Andrew.
“Andy,” I start, but I don’t have any other words.
“He was my only friend, Dex. The only one.”
I swallow hard, lowering my gaze to the ground, unable to look at my brother. I fucked up. I know I did.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur and then wince because it feels cheap. “I am. It meant nothing.”
“Which makes it worse.” He throws his hands in the air, features screwed up in an angry way that transforms his normally smiling face. “You fucked my friend who meant ‘nothing’”—he makes exaggerated air quotes with his fingers—“and now he won’t come over to study anymore. You’re some kind of asshole.”
He stomps out of our tiny kitchen, his feet sending thundering ripples through our ramshackle trailer. All I can do is stare after him.
Andrew Love.
The tallest but also the baby…by two whole minutes.
His dark hair has grown out lately now that we don’t have Dad giving us shit about everything. It hangs to about his cheekbones and frames his eyes so that they’re the focal point on his face. When he’s smiling, I like how his amber eyes seem to smile too.
Tonight, they’re not smiling.
Nathan creeps from the living room into the kitchen, his head bowed and shoulders hunched. Guilt roils in my gut. Not only did I hurt Andy, but I upset Nate too by fighting with Andy.
We’re triplets.
When one of us is angry at the other, that puts the third brother in a spot where he has to choose sides. It’s torturous and a position we don’t often find ourselves in. I can tell Nate is torn between comforting me and calming Andy.
Turning away from Nate—the middle brother in our trio—I place both palms on the cracked Formica countertop. I squeeze my eyes shut and wonder what the hell I was thinking.
I wasn’t thinking.
I’d been tired from working my ass off all week, a little buzzed from the beers some guys from work bought me, and just really needed to get laid. Seth came over to hang out with Andy, but when my brothers were passed out, Seth kissed me. We’d ended up in the bathroom, him bent over the sink while I fucked him. It was fast and meaningless. That was three weeks ago. With morning brought regret and the dread that he’d eventually find out. Which he did. Today, apparently.
Lanky arms wrap around me from behind. Nate is always the comfort. When I was little and would be nursing whatever fucked-up ailments I had going on from Dad, he’d always cling to me, somehow making it better with his hug and familiar scent and quiet disposition.
“I’m sorry,” I say to him too because I am. I’m the only one of us who thinks with his dick. A heavy sigh escapes me. “I’m fucking this all up.”
“No,” he murmurs, hot breath tickling my back through my thin T-shirt. “You’re making it so we can have all this.”
Our own place.
My brothers in college.
Safe.
And I stupidly messed up Andy’s first and only friend because I just wanted to feel good for five minutes after a stressful week.
“Want me to cook something?” I ask, my voice gruff with emotion. “I bought stuff to make spaghetti.”
Nate and Andy’s favorite.
Nate releases me to peek into the sack. He reaches inside and pulls out a tub of cookies and cream ice cream. His smile—a rarity but warmer than the sun—is wide enough to chase away my self-loathing.
“I haven’t had this in forever,” Nate says, tawny eyes twinkling as he fawns over the store-brand container in his beloved flavor.
Not since our birthday when we turned thirteen. It’s been five years since we lost Mom and it still hurts.
“Special occasion,” I tell him. “I got Andy’s favorite too.”
He pulls out another container, this time vanilla bean. “Where’s yours?”
“Don’t need it.”
His smile fades and his brows furl. “Dex…”
“It’s just ice cream,” I say with a shrug.
“We’ll share ours.” He hardens his gaze, daring me to argue. I don’t. “What’s the special occasion?”
I was going to tell them the good news, but then Andy tore me a new asshole the moment I stepped in the front door.
“Got a raise.”
“No shit?” He grins again, making me feel less of an asshole than ten minutes ago.
“For real. Bert says I’m kicking everyone’s ass at the shop as far as moving vehicles out. He’s been making more money and said it’s only fair to pass it down my way.”
We’ve been in this dinky-ass town for four months now. But it’s within walking distance to the community college and the auto repair shop that was hiring. This town is more like home than anything we’ve ever had. Finally, it feels like we’re starting to move up a little.