Page 139 of Thin Ice

The package will be there soon. Please, open it.

I don’t respond to the message, leaving it on read. I hardly slept all night after my text conversation with him. Everything in my body is telling me I should be in Seattle right now, that I should be at the rink with Quinn later watching as Noah takes the ice for his first regular season game. But no, I’m stubborn and hurt that Noah keeps sending these freaking loading bar gifs with rainbows and hearts telling Quinn and me that he’s “working on it”—where “it” is the final step in the three of us being together.

The last four months have been intense to say the least. The three of us talk every day, either by text or video call. I visited them in Seattle, where we spent time in their house watching movies, playing games, and getting to know each other better beyond the incredible sex we more than enjoy together. I even got to see the scary Furby collection Quinn has hidden in a box in their garage and met their friends, Stevie and Lucas, both of whom I like and have kept in touch with.

I left that weekend thinking that the next time we talked, Noah would tell me he was ready to come out to more people in his life. Instead, they redid a room for me in their house—something that made me fall for them more—but Noah still didn’t make any movement toward bringing our newfound relationship to light, just telling me and Quinn again that he was “working on it.”

They came to visit me at a retreat I worked in New Mexico, and I thought Noah would tell me he was ready to take us all to the next step then. That weekend was magical. We played tourist and fucked Quinn together on a blanket in a cave that definitely was not supposed to be used for that purpose, and I swear we almost all admitted we were falling in love with each other. But then they left, and Noah’s hockey season started to ramp up.

Still, we all talked, and they continued to better not only their marriage but also themselves. Noah began taking medication for his anxiety and doing yoga alongside things he learned at the retreat to help calm his nervous system, and Quinn admitted to us both that she’d been secretly thinking she wanted to expand her photography beyond sports.

With that and the setup of her new darkroom in their home, she bought an old film camera to take nature photos. They’re stunning and soulful, just like her. Noah and I have convinced her to put a show together in the future.

Lately, they’ve been suggesting ways we could see each other more, especially during hockey season. Quinn even mentioned me starting my own retreats in the Seattle area, though I’d feel awful leaving Hazel after everything she’s done for me.

But her suggestion forced something into the open we’ve been avoiding: We’ve never redefined what we are now. And over the past few weeks, that’s started to eat at me in a way I can’t ignore—something Noah and Quinn both know.

It’s why I didn’t go to Seattle for tonight’s game. I feel like shit about it, but I lied and said I had work even though our next retreat isn’t for another week. Because I couldn’t sit there and pretend the last few months haven’t meant everything to me, that I’m not in love with them.

Both of them.

“Hey, you.”

I look up as Hazel walks over to me, a large padded envelope in her hand. “This came to you via courier. He told me it was time-sensitive and asked me to please give it to you right away.”

I look at the package she’s holding out toward me and know it’s from Noah. I take it and place it on my lap, staring at the seal.

“You’re stressed,” Hazel observes, sitting down on the lounge next to me. “Do you know what’s in it?”

I shake my head. “Just that it’s from Noah.”

“You said his first regular season game is tonight, right?”

“You remembered.”

“Of course I did. I remember everything you tell me.”

I chuckle. “You do have an incredible memory.”

There’s silence for a long moment before she asks, “Is there a reason he’s sending you urgent packages on the day of a game instead of you being in Seattle so he can give it to you himself?”

I rub a hand over my beard. “I told him and Quinn I had work.”

She exhales. “I see. I’m guessing that means things are still up in the air with them?”

Hazel is one of my best friends and the only person who knows the full extent of my relationship with Quinn and Noah. Not only did she help me tell them my truth before they left the retreat, but she’s also helped me work through any negative emotions or triggers that have come up for me the last few months.

“Just that one thing,” I say.

“The biggest thing,” she reminds me.

I nod. “I told you before what I told them: I’m not going to be a secret in anyone’s life. I’m not going to hide who I love—or how many people I love, for that matter.”

“At least you’re finally admitting that you love them.”

I stare at her. Her smile is bright and warm, eyes dancing with wisdom.

“You’ve loved them for a while now, but it’s nice to hear you say it out loud. Though I’d guess you haven’t told them?” she asks.