Page 42 of Off Limits Daddies
The history teacher looks as exhausted as the rest of us, his dark hair messier than usual and his glasses slightly askew. I hand him a beer too and gesture for both men to sit.
The tension in my living room is thick enough to choke on. Jack sits in the armchair, his posture rigid and defensive. Noah takes the couch and I remain standing, needing the height advantage for what I'm about to propose.
Plus, I'm just too anxious to sit still right now. I still haven't decided if I've lost my mind to even think about this, and I'm nervous about how Jack and Noah will react.
"Okay," I start, then stop. How do you suggest something this unconventional without sounding completely insane?
"Just say it," Jack says, his voice tight. "Whatever you're planning, just get it out."
I take a breath. "We all want Mia."
"Obviously," Noah mutters.
"And she clearly has feelings for all three of us," I continue. "She said as much last night."
Jack's jaw clenches. "Your point?"
"My point is that fighting over her is going to destroy everyone involved." I pace across the living room, needing movement to organize my thoughts. "Mia is drowning in guilt. We're all miserable. And professionally, this situation is a ticking time bomb."
"So what do you suggest?" Noah asks quietly. "That we draw straws? Flip a coin?"
"No." I stop pacing and face them both. "I suggest we don't make her choose."
The silence that follows is deafening. Jack stares at me like I've grown a second head. Noah's expression is unreadable behind his glasses.
"Explain," Jack finally says, his voice dangerously calm.
"We share her." The words come out more confidently than I feel. "All three of us. Together."
"That's insane." Jack stands abruptly, his beer bottle hitting the coffee table with a sharp crack. "You're suggesting we what, pass her around like some kind of object?"
"That's not what I'm saying at all." I hold my ground, meeting his glare. "I'm saying we give her permission to be with all of us. No guilt. No choosing. No competition."
"That's not how relationships work," Jack argues.
"Says who?" I counter. "Who made the rule that you can only love one person at a time? That caring about multiple people makes you somehow broken or wrong?"
Noah shifts on the couch, his fingers drumming against his beer bottle. "You're talking about polyamory."
"I'm talking about not forcing a woman we all care about to rip herself apart choosing between us." I look at Noah, grateful he's at least considering this instead of immediately rejecting it. "Did you see her face last night? She was devastated. Terrified of losing any of us."
"Because what we're doing is wrong," Jack insists, but his voice lacks conviction.
"Is it?" I challenge. "Or is it just unconventional? We're all consenting adults. We all want her. She wants all of us. The only thing making this wrong is the guilt and secrecy."
Noah scrubs at his chin, a thoughtful expression pulling his eyebrows down. "Historically speaking, such a thing was not unheard of. Usually, men had more than one mate. But in some societies, it was the women who had more than one husband. Not only for power, but in case one of the husbands died, she and her children would not starve or go unprotected."
Jack runs his hand through his hair, a gesture I'm learning means he's conflicted. He shoots a glare at Noah but ignores his remarks. "This is my career we're talking about. My reputation. I'm the principal, for God's sake. If anyone finds out I'm involved in some kind of arrangement with three of my employees under my authority, I'm finished."
"We're already involved," I point out. "The only difference is whether we're honest about it or keep sneaking around like we're doing something shameful."
"She's twenty-seven years old," Noah says softly. "A grown woman capable of making her own choices."
Jack turns to stare at Noah. "You're actually considering this?"
Noah sets down his beer and removes his glasses, cleaning them with the hem of his shirt in a gesture that seems more about buying time than necessity. "I like to weigh all my options."
Well, that was a great non-answer.
