“That’s weird,” I say.

“So is kissing your best friend’s girlfriend, but here we are.” He looks over his shoulder. “Best tongue I’ve tasted in—“

“—Go.” I point toward the door.

Quinn laughs and winks at me. “Let’s be honest. It would have never worked out between the three of us. First of all, my dick is so big you’d—“

“—GO!” I yell.

MB bursts out laughing. “Come back when you can, Quinn. We can watch more pirates.”

“Come,” he repeats. “Now, why is that familiar?”

I throw a pillow.

And then MB is on top of me as the door shuts, she’s all over me, actually, and I realize that while he gave her pleasure, he’s the only one who reached it.

It’s not weird when I cup her, almost like his only job was to blot out what happened, get her ready, and experience pleasure for the first time in a while in a safe space.

I’m okay with it.

I’m okay.

I have her.

She has me.

And we both have him.

Weird but true.

“You okay?” I ask as I peel away her remaining clothes and discard them on the floor along with mine.

MB grabs my face, pulling me down to kiss her, and we tumble onto the floor. The heat from her body presses against mine; her skin is soft as I straddle her on the floor. This is my future.

Her.

My best friend.

MB grabs my hair, tugging me forward until our bodies are sliding against each other, and I know there’s no going back.

She’s already mine, but right now, it’s different.

She was mine because I wanted her.

Tonight she’s mine… because there’s no secrets between us, no lies, no more hiding—it’s raw, emotional, physical, spiritual.

Perfect.

Damn, It’s so fucking perfect.

Soft fingers touch my cock, and I nearly have the same problem that Quinn does as I try to keep my body from responding. My tip teases her entrance. I tell myself not to explode.

I keep the fireworks at bay, just barely enough to inch closer inside her heat, and then she grabs me by the ass, and I lose all sense of existence. I slam into her, fucking her against the floor, her head hits the red leather bottom of the theater chair, and she says nothing, just hooks her heels around my ass and pulls me deeper.

Deeper.

Deeper.

Deeper.

Until our motions are a reaction to being too close, too deep, too everything. Her hips rise up, mine push down, yin and yang.

She kisses me while I finish inside her knowing she’s already there if the lack of friction between us is anything to go by.

“Perfect,” MB whispers against my sweaty neck.

“The Perfects.” I correct. “Us.”

Epilogue

Ambrose

Everywhere I walk now, or drive, or eat, people stare, they point. I’m still on TV along with my “stepsister,” who I’m now openly dating.

It’s a weirdly imperfect world I now live in and one I wished for, not knowing what I was wishing for.