Page 38 of The KING Review

Vida sticks her tongue out, but she’s glowing. Absurdly, radiantly happy.

“You three are nauseating, truly,” I say, sipping my cocktail. It tastes like sugar and summer and college mistakes. I snort a laugh to myself. “This is absolutely something Cade would make.”

Wren glances at River, then back at me, lips quirking. “Fiancé of the infamous Doctor Fia Hart?”

I lean in, chin propped on my hand. “The one and only. Have you checked out the new and improved poly-friendly app? You should let me know if anything doesn’t work. I can let Fia know.”

Vida groans. “Don’t. Your sister already hates me.”

I burst out laughing, almost spraying cranberry across the bar. “She doesn’t hate you. She hates that you found a flaw in her algorithm before she did. She’s been fuming about it ever since.”

“That’s worse!” Vida slaps the table, bracelets chiming. “I didn’t mean anything personal by it. I just wanted it to be inclusive. But she’s like a sexy little psych witch with a grudge-holding protocol.”

I guffaw. “That’s my sister.”

Vida shrugs. “Maybe she just didn’t see it, because she’s not poly. It wouldn’t occur to her.”

I sip my drink, weighing it. The cranberry hits sweet, and I swirl the straw in the glass, watching the fruit sink.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I say finally, giving Vida a look. “I mean, they’re both down bad, but if there’s anyone who’d surprise you, it’s them. I wouldn’t put money on them staying strictly monogamous for life. Cade’s not straight, and my sister could write a dissertation on how compulsory monogamy is a social construct. So maybe they’ll find a third, or a fourth, or… I don’t know, start a commune. Wouldn’t even shock me a little.”

River barks a laugh, but Wren just gives a thoughtful hmm. I like that about him. He’s always clocking the energy, never jumping to fill the space unless it’s called for.

Vida’s mouth opens, then she claps a hand over it, bracelets jangling like windchimes. “Honestly, you’re right. Sorry, not sorry, but I don’t care how good that man is—and I know he’s good, I’ve seen the way he looks at her in their interviews—that woman needs taking care of.”

I snort, stabbing a wedge of lime with my straw and chasing it around the glass. “My sister’s not built for small stakes. She’s all-or-nothing. And she deserves the world.”

Vida smiles, soft.

River’s thumb moves slowly against her wrist. She relaxes into him like a plant turning toward the morning sun. The easy familiarity makes something tug in my chest—a little hungry, a little happy.

I wonder what it would be like to be loved like that. Messy and open and unashamed. Not rationing yourself out in teaspoons, not worrying you’ll be too much, but trusting the people you choose to just… want you. All of you.

I think about it a lot. More, recently. For obvious reasons that start with “Professor” and end with “Daddy Grant King,” aka the man I want to see me like that, and the one person I absolutely should not be thinking about right now.

Before I can get too in my feelings about it, Vida notices the dopey look on my face and narrows her eyes.

“So, anyway,” she says, conspiratorial. “Are you gonna tell me what’s up with you, or am I supposed to just keep reading between the lines of your cryptic little texts?”

River quirks a brow. “What is up?”

“I plead the fifth,” I say quickly.

Vida snorts a laugh into her glass, amplifying the sound. “She wants to fuck her professor.”

I nearly spit my drink all over myself. “There’s nothing up with me and Grant.”

“Wow, I didn’t even say his name. You are such a fucking liar,” Vida says, delighted, as River and Wren both turn, perfectly synchronized, to decode my reaction.

“So, there’s not even a little something?” River smirks, which is an indecent use of facial muscles for a man who’s supposed to be the nice one at this table.

Wren’s mouth barely twitches, but his eyes are sharp. “You’re blushing,” he observes, and, traitorously, I am.

I jab my straw at Vida. “I love that you’re in a relationship with two emotionally literate people, and you still have the gall to be this nosy over something that’s none of your damn business. I respect it.”

River chuckles, and Wren throws an arm over his shoulder, pulling him in to kiss his temple before glancing at his watch. “We should head out.”

I sigh, throwing my bag over my shoulder.