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After a few minutes of the comfortable silence that only exists when a group of people is way too hungry to hold a conversation while eating, Joey speaks up. “Okay, now that we’ve eaten some, I think we should take a moment to all check in. Obviously we ended up naked pretty quickly—no complaints from me—but I want to make sure we’re all still on the same page.”

“My only complaint is that we put clothes back on,” Patrick teases, but then turns to me to add, “Jokes aside, I’m really happy you agreed to come with us this week. We warned you about being open and honest with each other, and I hope you’re comfortable enough to be the same way with us. Even though we’ve had our vacation rule for years, we’ve never spent more than a day or two with the same person, so it’s a new situation for all of us.”

I swallow hard, trying to push down the fluttery way my stomach feels at the confirmation that I’m the only person they’ve gone back to or spent so much time with. I love feeling like I’m special, but I know they’re trying to have a serious conversation here, so I focus on what they asked. “To be honest, I wasn’t expecting this to feel as easy as it has. But I’m really glad I’m here too. I can’t wait for more sex, but also just hanging out with you guys.”

They both seem to relax into their seats a bit more, looking relieved as they smile at my response. Then Joey bites his lip, turning to me with a slightly guilty expression. “As much as I’d fucking love to promise an amazing second round tonight, the best I can probably offer is a blow job. My refractory time is not what it used to be.”

Patrick laughs. “Same. But I have big plans for the rest of the week, don’t worry.”

“Wow, you guys really did get old,” I tease. “I could probably get it up again because I don’t always have two extremely sexy men offering to suck my dick, but a night of eggnog and Christmas decorating sounds really great too. We can save blow jobs for tomorrow; feel free to wake me up with your mouth around my dick.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. We’re going to help you find that carefree part of yourself again in no time,” Patrick assures me, and Joey nods.

“Well, time to decorate?” Joey asks, looking around the table, and I notice all our forks are down.

“I’ll get the eggnog,” Patrick promises, jumping up.

He pours us each a large glass, and Joey holds his up. He smiles right at me as he says, “To being carefree and happy.” We clink our glasses and take big sips.

“Alright, time to make this place festive as fuck,” Patrick announces. He gathers our plates to load in the dishwasher, and Joey and I bring our glasses with us to the living room to start decorating.

“Want to put on a cheesy Christmas movie to really get into the spirit?” Joey suggests.

“As cheesy as possible, please,” I confirm.

We spend about an hour drinking way too much eggnog and getting all of the decorations they brought set up. The spiral staircase and loft balcony railing are now wrapped with garland and rainbow lights. The bare corners of the space have mini Christmas trees, wooden presents, and Patrick even brought a Christmas shower curtain we hung up. It’s very over-the-top, especially for a vacation rental, but the modern space looks so cozy and festive now. They even thought to bring an extra stocking for me.

The whole time, they make me feel so included, asking my opinion about where something should go, what I like, and I continue to feel far more involved than I thought possible. Maybe it’s the eggnog, but as the night goes on, I can’t stop myself from imagining nights like this with them back in New York and how much fun we could have if this arrangement didn’t end with our vacation.

When we’re satisfied with our “winter wonderland” for now—Patrick has assured us that he’ll find outdoor string lights in town for the deck railing—we settle in on the couch to finish the movie. I try to sit on the recliner off to the side to give them the couch, but Patrick immediately stops me, patting the spot between Joey and him. “Nope, come here.”

“If you want,” Joey adds with an inviting smile.

Clearly, they’re not concerned about wanting their own space. So I shrug, when in Rome and all that, and join them to cuddle on the couch. I’m so comfortable wrapped up between them. I’m also more tired than I realized, and my eyes grow heavy quickly. Patrick softly asks, “Can I carry you to our bed if you fall asleep? Or would you rather stay in your own room tonight?”

“With you, please,” I confirm just before I fall asleep.

10

“Are you sure we need to leave the cabin?” Scotty asks from his spot in the back seat, huddled around his second cup of coffee. “I can make us breakfast here if you guys don’t want to cook, then we wouldn’t need all of these clothes.”

Patrick snorts a laugh as he pulls out of the driveway. “I don’t mind cooking, but Christmas is only a few days away, and we still haven’t done most of our favorite holiday activities. Unfortunately, a lot of them are in public and require clothing, but you’re more than welcome to build your gingerbread house later while naked if you’d like.”

“So is that why we’re going into town? To get gingerbread house kits?” Scotty guesses.

Patrick laughs again, smirking as he shakes his head.

I twist around to face Scotty. “Patrick doesn’t believe in those premade kits.”

“They take all of the fun out of it!” he insists. “I want to walk around the cute downtown area and enjoy the decorations because apparently they’re pretty good. There’s also a brunch spot I want to check out, then I’d planned to get the tree. But there’s a big storm coming in, so we only have about an hour to spend in town. We can grab food to-go on our way back, but I think we’ll have to save the sit-down restaurant and tree for tomorrow, hopefully. Our only plan right now is to spend a ridiculous amount of money at the candy shop getting whatever we want to use on our gingerbread houses later when we get snowed in.”

“Patrick and I always try to outdo each other to make the best one from scratch,” I explain. “It’s become very competitive over the years. We post them online without labeling who made what, and then whichever house gets the most votes in an hour wins.”

“What do you win?” Scotty excitedly asks, looking far more awake than he did a few minutes ago.

“A blow job usually,” Patrick answers. “But it’s more about the bragging rights.”

“Patrick won the first few years, which I didn’t think was fair because he literally builds shit for a living, but I’ve learned some tricks since then, and the last few have been close. I think we’re about tied on victories now.”