Party of Four

A Night Out - Riley

Halloween was always one of Nica’s favorite holidays, but this year it carried a different weight. It was the first time since the hospital that we were attempting to be a “threesome” without the baby attached to our hip.

I checked my watch for the fourth time in ten minutes. We had tickets for The Raven’s Salon at Poe’s. It was an event the pub was putting on, imitating Victorian salons with ghost stories and poetry readings, staged seances, and actors performing scenes from gothic classics. I’d spent the last hour coordinating our departure with the precision of a military operation.

“Riley, breathe,” Nica laughed from the second floor landing. She looked incredible. This was probably the first year of her life that she wasn’t in full costume, but she still looked the spirit in her black velvet wrap dress. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose curls, dark eyeliner made her honey-colored eyes pop, and the plum lipstick made her look like a modern day enchantress. “Your parents have raised two sons. I think they can handle one infant for a few hours.”

“It’s not that. It’s the statistical probability of a sleep regression occurring the night we’re not here,” I said, checking my reflection in the mirror by the entryway. Cole came out of the kitchen looking remarkably relaxed. I wore a pair of pinstripe trousers with a black turtleneck and my docs. I was pretty sure Cole’s suit was a Gomez Addams costume, but it worked for him. We looked like a unit.

Cole caught Nica’s waist as she reached the bottom step. He turned her, dipped her, and grinned. Nica giggled as her arms circled around his neck. “He’s got the app open on his phone, Nica. He’s already set up a push notification if her breathing rhythm changes.”

I rolled my eyes as he pulled her upright again. “Data is comfort, Cole.”

The patio door slid open and mom and dad walked in, looking far too excited for a Friday night of diaper duty. Mom was already reaching for Poppy who was asleep in her playpen in a pumpkin onesie, complete with a fluffy orange tutu and matching socks.

“You three go, get out of the house,” mom started, cradling Poppy against her. “Drink something that didn’t come from a teapot and talk about something that isn’t projectile vomiting.”

“We have the emergency contact list on the fridge,” I started, but dad just laughed, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Son, go buy your girl a drink. We’ve got this.”

Walking out to the car without the diaper bag felt like losing a limb. I felt strangely light, and judging by the way Cole was rolling his shoulders, he felt it too.

Poe’s already looked like a gothic tavern to begin with. There was a statue of Poe himself in front of the heavy wooden doors. The inside was lit with red bulbs that cast dark shadows across the walls. Literary quotes crawled across the walls. Black lace and velvet curtains and faux spiderwebs had been added to lean into the spirit of the holiday. Fake candles were clustered in corners adding to the ambience. The small corner stage was set up for the night’s festivities. Servers walked from table-to-table offering themed cocktails.

“To us,” Nica said as she raised her glass once we were settled. “And to Poppy for not crying when we walked out the door.”

“To us,” Cole echoed. His eyes were fixed on Nica in a way that made me grateful for the dark lighting.

“To us,” I repeated, the words carrying a weight that only the three of us understood.

The atmosphere was thick with the kind of theatrical gloom Nica adored. From the stage, a man in a Victorian frock coat began a low recitation of The Tell-Tale Heart. A heartbeat effect thumped through the speakers subtly enough to be unsettling.

We were tucked into a raised corner booth with the perfect view of the stage. My hand rested on Nica’s knee, Cole’s arm was draped across the back of the booth behind our heads. I felt more grounded than I had in years.

“This is exactly what I needed,” Nica whispered, leaning her head back against Cole’s shoulder. She looked around, her eyes sparkling. “It feels like we’re in another century. I wish we could stay in this aesthetic forever.”

I had to fight the urge to smile. “Who says we can’t?” I asked, my voice smooth. “Between your horror novels, the posters, your oddities and trinkets…our house is no 1313 Mockingbird Lane, but it’s getting there. Besides, it’s a big year coming up. It can look however we want it to.”

The “seance” began on stage then, with the actors calling out the speakers of the pub’s past. It was campy and fun, and it allowed us to slip into a comfortable conversation. We talked about the first time we all realized this was actually going to work. We laughed about the early days bouncing between our house and Nica’s apartment. And we talked about how terrified we all actually were when Nica first revealed the pregnancy test.

“I used to think I was just waiting for the next disaster,” Cole admitted, his voice low enough that it didn’t carry over to the next table. “I spent so many years looking over my shoulder. But tonight? I’m just looking at you. Both of you.”

I felt a rare moment where my analytical brain shut off. I didn’t check the app or look at the time. I just watched the flickering red light play across Nica’s face. My inner theater kid was finally able to just sit back and enjoy the drama going on around me.

When we walked back out to my Sportage that night, the Halloween moon was high and pale. The cold air was sharp, and Nica shivered, tucking herself between us as we walked to the car.

“Is the data still comforting?” Cole teased as he opened the passenger door for Nica.

I pulled my phone out to find a text from mom: We took the playpen over to the cottage. Poppy is OUT. Enjoy your night. We’ll bring her back over in the morning.

“Looks like Poppy’s getting her first sleepover, we have the night to ourselves,” I told them as I held my phone out to Nica for her to read the message.

“Then let’s go home,” Nica said, smiling.

The drive home was quiet, but the air in the car felt charged. The memories of last Halloween surfaced while Nica sang along to some Sabrina Carpenter song on the radio. I found her hand across the middle console and laced our fingers while my gaze flicked to Cole in the rear view mirror. Judging from the smile on his face, I think he felt it too.

The front door had barely shut behind us when Nica’s arms were around my neck. Her lips crushed into mine and I felt a warmth spread through my body. My hands went to her waist, and I opened my mouth to her prying tongue.

I felt Cole step up behind her. He rested one hand on her hip just beneath mine. The other pulled her hair back away from her neck so he could tail kisses from her shoulder to her ear.

Nica hummed into the kiss and I let my hands glide up her sides.

Nica broke the kiss, leaning back into Cole as she looked at, her lipstick smeared slightly. She smirked as she reached up and used her thumb to wipe it off my bottom lip. “So we’ve got the night to ourselves,” she reminded us before pulling away. She kicked her heels off at the foot of the stairs and headed up, without waiting for us to follow.

Cole and I raced up behind her. Last year she had been our Aphrodite, but this year, she was our Mary Shelley. We made it to her room just steps behind her, and I caught her in my arms, pulling her back against me. She squealed, delighted, and giggled.

My mouth latched on to the side of her neck, my hands flat against her stomach. Cole was already shedding his suit jacket and unbuttoning the black button-down he’d worn underneath it. I dragged my hands up her stomach. A small sound escaped her lips as she tilted her head back against my shoulder.

I cupped her breasts, my thumbs finding her n*****s through the soft velvet of her dress. Now shirtless, Cole stepped in front of her, his lips catching hers. His hands were back on her hips and I continued to kiss and lightly nip her neck.

Once again, Nica was the one that broke the kiss. She lifted her hair up off her back as she asked, “Unzip me?”

I happily obliged, and the dress fell from her shoulders. She took her time pulling her arms out of the sleeves. The dress dropped, catching at her hips briefly, then pooled around her feet, leaving her in her black lace bra and matching panties.

She stepped away from the dress - and us - and headed towards the bed. “Be gentle tonight,” she instructed as she sat on the edge, facing us again. “I was only just cleared for this a few days ago.”

“Of course, kitten,” Cole agreed as he closed the distance between him and the bed. I suddenly felt extremely over-dressed. I watched as he leaned down to kiss her, his hands cupping her face while I struggled out of my boots. Then I pulled the shirt off and tossed it on the floor.

I went around to the opposite side of the bed, crawling across the mattress to settle behind her.

I pushed her hair out of the way and kissed along her shoulder blade. My hand cupped her breast again and I teased her n****e deliberately through the lace until I heard her moan against Cole’s lips.

She drew in a sharp breath, breaking the kiss when I pinched her n****e. My hand started a trail down her stomach. “You keep that up, and they’re gonna leak,” she teased, her voice raspy from the kiss.

“I don’t mind a little milk. You know I like to play with my food,” I whispered against her neck while my fingers teased the waistband of her panties. “Remember the whipped cream?”

She rolled her eyes, but I could see her smile reflected in Cole’s glasses.

“Whipped cream is definitely not the same as breast milk,” Cole pointed out, but I didn’t care. I’d missed being able to fully worship my goddess.

My hand dipped between her legs, and I traced the lines of the lace covering her. Her back arched against my chest, a strangled sound escaping her. Cole knelt between her legs and I gently pushed her thighs open. He wasted little time as he started trailing kisses up her legs.

I continued lavishing her neck with attention as Cole worked his way up her thighs. I cupped her cheek and turned her head towards me. I kissed her deeply. “Do you know how f*****g incredible you are?” I whispered when I broke the kiss.

“Tell me,” she smiled, the words barely a breath.

I pressed a kiss to her lips again, then her cheek. “You’re a goddess. You carried our daughter, protecting her while she grew until she was ready to join us. You take care of her,” my hands cupped her breasts again and I kissed her neck. “You’re the thing that holds us together.” I kissed her shoulder, “You’re the reason Cole and I stopped being two guys who lived together and actually started being family again.” My hands followed the lace band of her bra, finding the clasp in the center of her back. “Most importantly, you’re smart, funny, and kind. For some reason, you’re willing to tolerate both of us and deal with our s**t like it’s nothing.”

I peeled the straps off your shoulders and dragged them down your arms.

You gasped as the cool air fully hit your chest. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her spine. “I love you, Nica.”

“We love you,” Cole corrected, his voice vibrating against the top of her inner thigh. His lips brushed the crease where leg net hip.

“I love you too, both of you,” Nica murmured, her voice catching.

Cole’s hand moved, flat against her stomach as he pushed her back. His touch was somehow dominant and reverent at the same time. I shifted, giving her space to lay down.

I leaned down to kiss her again as Cole’s fingers hooked into her panties. He dragged them down her thighs and tossed them behind him. My hand cupped her bare breast now, thumb rubbing small circles against her n****e, hardening it into a little peak.

I watched as Cole’s mouth moved between her legs and Nica let out a low moan. Her eyes rolled back as his tongue moved between her folds.

My mouth closed over her n****e, my tongue swirling around it. I was careful not to actually suck as I lavished her chest with attention. My mouth moved back and forth, kissing, nipping, and licking her n*****s.

Her body writhed between us, her hand tangling in my hair. “Riley,” my name was a sharp hiss. At the same time, my tongue swept across her n****e and I tasted the warmth of her milk. “You’re making me leak,” she whispered, her voice strained, yet laced with amusement.

I pressed a kiss to her throat, then her lips. “I don’t care.”

My mouth moved back to her breast, each lick and kiss deliberate now. Cole did something between her legs that really worked for her because her hips bucked against his mouth. Her free hand tangled in his hair, holding him in place as a series of whimpers and low moans fell from her lips.

After her initial orgasm, we gave her a few minutes to recover. Cole lifted her off the edge of the bed, and moved her to the center. Once Nica was settled into the pillows, he and I lay on either side of her. The rest of the night followed like that. Our focus was on her. We were deliberate and gentle, following her guidance through each scene, and holding her in between.