Chapter 39: A Nepo-Sex Relationship.

February 6, 11:00 PM, Mimi Vega’s room, third floor, Château des Rêves.
“Alright, I’ll admit it again—your idea with the hidden cameras in their room is perfect, Mimi,” Wickie says, shifting on the bed and eyeing her friend’s laptop. She wears a white tank top and green shorts. She watches Mimi pull an orange soda from the mini-fridge. Mimi wears a pink t-shirt and white pants.
Wickie smirks. “This is better than any soap opera. You need a few more cameras around their room—it’ll be just like those MTV shows. Kate is lying to herself. She clearly wants to break up with Alex. Fuck—sending her boyfriend to the guest house starting next week while she does ‘experiments’ with her best friend’s guy. Does our ‘Shaved Dolphin’ even realize that behind all this ‘boundary expansion’ there’s only one thing—she wants a bigger and blacker cock? He’s a 29-year-old man and a writer—and such a fucking idiot…”
Wickie stares at the screen. “Alex is taking a while… Looks like he’s staying the night with Sarah, lol. Maybe we’ll get to see Kate jumping on Daria?”
She smirks again. “By the way, what do you think about this move—Kate letting her new assistant take over Alex’s office while he’s first in the guest house and then in Cambria?”
Mimi shuts the fridge, takes a long sip of soda, then sits cross-legged on the bed beside Wickie. The laptop sits between them. Her fingers trace the edge of the keyboard as she watches the empty feed of Alex and Kate’s room. Kate and Daria are gone.
Mimi tilts the laptop. “Look at this angle,” she says, pointing. “If I put a camera here—above the bookshelf—it catches more space without being obvious. The light glares on the glass edge, so no one notices.”
Wickie leans in, squinting. “Perfect. You’ve got good taste, Mimi. Almost like we’re the production crew for the most real reality show ever.” She laughs softly, biting her lower lip. “Kate wants to live in her own drama, so we might as well document it.”
The air conditioner hums. On the screen Daria appears, laughing at something on her phone. White T-shirt, purple shorts. Her accent cuts through the static—a sweet, sing-song Russian cadence. “Da, is so funny,” she murmurs, scrolling.
Wickie’s face lights up. “Ohhh, that’s our Russian cutie. What’s she laughing at?”
Mimi snorts, glances at the screen, then goes back to her drink. “Probably another weird anime meme. She’s obsessed.” She points. “See? Little anime stickers on her phone case.”
Madi steps into frame, tired but relieved. Yellow shirt, blue pants. She drops onto the bed, groans, and stretches her arms overhead. “Oh, thank God for this couch-bed,” she mutters. “I want one just like it for my room. My feet are killing me.”
Wickie leans forward, elbows on the mattress. “Madi’s working too hard again. She never takes time off.” She watches Daria scamper over, small frame bouncing. “Look how much smaller Daria is next to her.”
Mimi giggles. “Madi looks like she could pick her up with one hand. Twenty-six, physique of a track-and-field champion. A busty champion, yes…”
Wickie nods. “She’s got that whole ‘sexy but athletic physician’ thing. I bet half her patients hit on her.” She watches Madi stretch out her legs. “Man, I’d kill for her body.”
Mimi takes another sip. “Damn, you’re the same age as her, Wickie. I’m a year older. You and I are sexy too. But… I agree.” She exhales. “And then there’s 21-year-old Daria, all tiny and cute, the former bartender. Like a little doll Kate picked up from that LA hotel and brought home.”
Wickie giggles, twirling a strand of pink-dyed hair. “Kate loves collecting beautiful people, doesn’t she? ‘Nepo-HR,’ huh? First Alex, now Daria, and soon Brian will be her newest boyfriend.” She taps the screen where Daria now lies beside Madi, chatting about casual domestic nonsense.
Mimi rolls her eyes. “Nepo-HR. What a ridiculous term. Didn’t Alex come up with that? Like it’s some kind of…” She sighs. “Doesn’t matter. But Daria’s cute. I see why Kate likes her. Same energy—bubbly, naive in a sweet way. Like they’re living in a fairy tale of sunshine and rainbows.” She exhales hard. “God, I wish I had that kind of optimism.”
Wickie crosses her legs, tapping the screen where Daria and Madi talk animatedly. “Daria’s so innocent,” she muses. “I mean, she used to bartend, sure, but something about her just screams ‘vulnerable little sister energy.’ Cut her and she’d bleed sugar and glitter.”
Mimi snorts. “You’re such a poet, Wickie. A weird poet.” She leans closer. “Madi’s so calm with her. I bet she plays the older-sister role effortlessly.”
Wickie yawns. “I wonder who Kate will spend February 14 with. She always spent it with Alex. Though we’ll have our usual small party anyway.”
She pauses. “And there’s Abraham Lincoln’s birthday… February 12. Celebrations all over town. Kate’s in some opening ceremony—something with the Black History Museum, I think. Not counting the regular weekend parties. Still curious how they’re going to handle February 14.”
Mimi leans back against the pillows, watching Daria and Madi. “Honestly? I think Kate’s gonna spend Valentine’s with Brian. She’s almost moved him into the main house.” She sips, lips pressed together. “Alex is going along with it. That alone tells you something.”
Wickie sighs, fingers trailing the laptop edge. “Yeah… I figured. If she’s moving him in, she wants to be with him more. And let’s face it—Brian’s got that whole dream-boyfriend thing. Model body, charming, knows how to be respectful… and apparently he can fuck like a porn star.” She grins. “I haven’t seen it myself, but Aria’s been bragging and showed everyone photos of his dick…” She gestures at the screen where Daria and Madi discuss someone’s bad cooking. “Damn, it’s great being Kate’s closest friend. Just walk into her room and lie on her couch-bed… I realize Château des Rêves, like a lot of mansions in Dreamside, is a creative commune. None of us are exactly maids… But people like Madi and Daria are far too privileged here.”
Wickie watches Madi yawn and stretch. Her yellow shirt rides up, showing a strip of toned abdomen. Wickie smirks. “Look at that. Even after a long day, Madi’s still built like a damn Greek statue. I bet half her patients are straight men with no actual medical problems.”
Mimi chuckles, rolling onto her side and propping her head on her hand. “Oh yeah. And some of those women must feel insanely intimidated. She’s got those strong legs that could crush a watermelon.” She pauses. “Or a man’s skull, for that matter.”
Wickie giggles, nudging Mimi with her knee. “Oh my god, are you fantasizing about Madi right now? Because I know I am.”
Mimi shrugs, grinning. “I mean, she’s hot. But she’s too… professional. I can tell she’s got a wild side, but she keeps it locked down tight. That’s what makes her so good at her job.” She taps her chin. “Though I wonder what she’s like in bed… Just as controlled, or does she let loose?”
Wickie nods. “Oh, definitely. I bet she’s one of those women who can make a man beg for permission just by touching his dick.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “In a completely professional way, of course.”
Mimi barks a laugh. “Right. Completely professional.”
The two fall silent for a moment, watching as Madi stands up from the couch and stretches again, her back arching gracefully. Wickie lets out a low whistle. “Damn. And you know what? I bet she’s just as much of a tease as Kate is. But like…” She lowers her voice, grinning. “The quiet, subtle kind. The kind where she knows exactly what she’s doing to you but plays it off like it’s no big deal.”
Mimi nudges Wickie playfully. “Sounds like someone’s imagining herself in that position. Should we test that theory? I bet Madi wouldn’t even hesitate to tease you if she knew you were interested.”
Wickie gasps dramatically, clutching her chest. “Oh my god, Mimi, you want me to hit on the head doctor of our mansion? Are you crazy? She’d probably analyze me and then kick me out of her office for trying to flirt!”
Mimi laughs. “You’d be surprised.” She leans back against the pillows. “I mean, Madi is a pro. She’s gotta be used to all kinds of shit from her patients—guys trying to be cute, women throwing themselves at her. But you? You’re a whole different kind of chaos.” She grins, nudging Wickie’s side. “That’s exactly why she’d eat you up and spit you out.”
Wickie sighs dramatically, fanning herself. “Oh my god, Mimi, now I can’t stop thinking about it. I mean, imagine trying to talk to her all serious-like and then dropping some casual innuendo? She’d probably just raise an eyebrow and say, ‘Is that a medical question or something else, sweetheart?’” She snickers, watching Madi stretch again on the screen. “Damn, even the way she moves is so effortless. So controlled.”
Mimi tilts her head, watching Madi as she steps toward the kitchenette to pour herself a glass of water. “Yeah, I bet she’s like that in bed too. So put together it’s almost irritating.” She turns back to Wickie. “But once you got her off, I bet she’d turn into this mess of limbs and moans and teeth.” She giggles. “All that control just… shattering.”
Wickie hums in agreement, biting her lip. “And do you think she likes when patients hit on her? Or does she just shut that shit down immediately?”
Madi sits back down on the couch, crossing her legs, and for a moment she just stares at the ceiling.
“Probably both,” Mimi says after a beat. “I mean, she’s got to be used to it by now. But she’s also smart enough to know when someone’s actually serious.” She glances at Wickie. “And we both know you’re not serious, right? Like, you’d love for Madi to flirt with you, but you’d never actually do anything about it.”
Wickie huffs, pretending to be offended. “Hey! You don’t know me, Mimi Vega! I might be braver than I look!”
Mimi laughs, nudging her shoulder. “Oh, I know you’re brave. I’m just saying, Madi’s different. She’s not some drunk girl at a party who’s gonna let you lead. She’s gonna turn that whole situation around on you if you’re not careful.”
Wickie grins. “Damn, and that’s hot. I bet she’d make me work for it.”
Mimi giggles. “Just make sure your girlfriend Darcy doesn’t find out about your crush on Madi. There’ll be a huge scene.”
Wickie rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning. “Pfft, Darcy? She knows I like looking. Doesn’t mean I’d actually do anything about it.” She shifts on the bed, stretching her legs out. “Besides, if Madi even gives me half a second of real attention, Darcy wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Mimi snorts. “That’s the thing—Madi probably doesn’t give you half a second of real attention. But she might if you actually tried.” She flicks a pillow at Wickie, who catches it with a laugh. “You talk big, but we both know you’re a coward.”
Wickie tosses the pillow back, hitting Mimi square in the face. “I am not! I’m just… I don’t know what game I’d even play with her.”
Mimi brushes the pillow off her lap, smirking. “Oh, that’s easy. You let her play all the games.” She leans forward, propping her elbows on her knees. “You know how Madi is—all smooth edges and perfect control. So you let her think she’s the one leading. But every time she tries to shut you down, you just keep coming back with something even more stupid and suggestive.” She grins. “Like, instead of hitting on her directly, you talk about your work—some dumb thing that gets her riled up. You say it wrong on purpose. Make her correct you. Then when she looks at you like, ‘Are you serious right now?’, you just shrug and say, ‘Well, I dunno, doc, that’s what I read on the internet.’” She giggles. “Madi loves being right. She loves being the expert.”
Wickie’s expression turns serious. “Um… shit… I have a girlfriend. And Madi is definitely straight. Although I don’t know if she’s seeing anyone right now.”
Mimi smirks, resting her chin on her hand as she watches Madi’s form on the screen. “Straight girls play games too, you know. And from what I’ve seen, Madi likes a challenge. She probably eats up all that subtle teasing from her patients.” She winks at Wickie. “Besides, aren’t we just fantasizing? You and me, two girls spying on the sexy doctor, wondering what she’d do if you actually tried something.” She trails a finger down Wickie’s arm. “You don’t have to make a move, silly. Just imagine Madi looking at you with that stern, serious face, like she’s about to lecture you, and then she gets all worked up because she knows you’re not taking her seriously.” Her grin widens. “Fuck, even thinking about it makes me hot. I bet she’d get all flustered and start trying to put you in your place.”
Mimi and Wickie shift on the bed, still watching Madi on the screen. The laptop hums softly, the feed steady from the camera hidden in Alex and Kate’s room—though neither of them is there. The room is empty except for the faint glow of the balcony lights seeping through the curtains. Mimi rests her chin on her palm, eyes fixed on the monitor.
“You think she’d get flustered?” Wickie asks, picking at a loose thread on her jeans. “I mean, she’s always so… composed. Like, if you dropped a tray of scalpels in her office, she’d just arch an eyebrow and tell you to clean it up.”
Mimi hums. “Exactly. That’s the part I love. You give her one wrong look, and she turns it back on you. Makes you wonder what she’s actually thinking.” She taps the spacebar, pausing the feed. “And you know she hears stuff.” Mimi nudges Wickie. “I bet she’s got stories. About guys begging for her attention. About some lucky bastard who actually got her to loosen up.”
Wickie’s fingers tap nervously against her thigh. “I don’t know… she’s really professional. Even when she’s flirting—if she’s flirting—it’s still super controlled.”
Mimi grins, leaning closer. “Oh, I’m counting on it.” She whispers conspiratorially. “I want to see what happens when someone actually pushes her buttons. Like, if some dumb patient gets all bold and tells her he’s imagining her outside the clinic…”
Wickie rolls her eyes. “Mimi…” she warns, though she’s smiling too.
“Or better yet—“ Mimi’s fingers dance across the trackpad, zooming in on Madi’s face frozen on the screen. Her fingers trace along the edges of the laptop, eyes never leaving Madi’s perfectly composed expression. “Imagine Madi, all stiff and clinical, sitting in her office. Some guy—some desperate patient—walks in and starts spilling his guts. Tells her he can’t stop thinking about her.”
Wickie watches her friend with amusement and curiosity. “And then what? She gives him a prescription for horniness?”
Mimi scoffs. “No, no, no. She plays coy. She pretends to be annoyed. Maybe she makes some lame excuse about maintaining professional boundaries.” Her voice drops into a low, teasing murmur. “But inside, she’s burning up. She’s thinking about all the ways she could put him in his place. Maybe she’s even… enjoying it.” She bites her lip, her gaze flicking to Wickie. “What if the patient keeps coming back? Keeps pressing her buttons?” Mimi turns the laptop slightly, tilting it toward herself so she can get a better view of Madi’s form on the screen. “She’d pretend to ignore him at first. But eventually, she’d start testing him. Giving him tiny little clues.”
Wickie leans forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Like what? Suggestive comments in his charts? Subtle glances when he’s changing?”
Mimi grins, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the trackpad. “Exactly. And every time he reacts, she gets a little bit hotter. A little bit bolder.” She turns to Wickie, a mischievous spark in her eye. “You ever seen her prescribe vitamins? ‘Take this. Every night. With water. Preferably on an empty stomach.’”
Wickie giggles, catching on. “Oh my god, she’s basically telling guys to swallow. On a regular basis.”
Mimi throws her head back and laughs. “I know, right? And she’s not even trying! She just says it so matter-of-factly, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.” She shakes her head. “That woman doesn’t even realize how suggestive she is half the time.”
Wickie leans back against the pillows, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I wonder if she ever lets herself… go a little crazy. I mean, she’s got to have a private life, right?”
Mimi shrugs. “Probably. But you know what I think? I think Madi is the kind of girl who loves control. In bed, at work—everywhere.” She lowers her voice. “And I bet the second some guy starts taking control back from her, she gets absolutely wild.”
Wickie chews her lip, imagining. “She’d probably try to look stern the whole time. Like she was in charge.”
“But her breathing would give her away,” Mimi adds, her grin widening. “She’d get all flustered. Start talking slower, deeper.” She mimics the sound with a breathy murmur.
Wickie shakes her head, laughing softly. “You’ve put way too much thought into this.”
Mimi scoffs. “Like you haven’t.” She nudges Wickie’s knee with her own. “Come on. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about Madi like that before.”
Wickie hesitates for just a second too long. Mimi sees it instantly and her face lights up with triumph.
“Oh my god,” she says, pointing at Wickie. “You have! You’ve totally imagined it!”
Wickie rolls her eyes again. “Okay, fine. Maybe a little.”
Mimi moves closer, resting her elbow on the bed between them. “Details, please. What’s your fantasy?”
Wickie shifts. “Well,” she starts, playing with a strand of her pink pigtails, “I’ve thought about what it would be like if she caught me… messing around in her office.”
Mimi’s eyebrows shoot up, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “Messing around? Like playing with yourself on her desk?”
Wickie nods slowly, her eyes fixed on the laptop screen. “Yeah. But not just that. I’d be touching myself, and then she’d walk in. And instead of getting mad, she’d… I don’t know. Watch. Maybe join in.”
Mimi snorts. “That’s not realistic.”
Wickie just shrugs. “I know. It’s Madi. I bet she’d act all professional at first, trying to be stern. Telling me to stop. But…”
“She wouldn’t mean it,” Mimi finishes for her, leaning forward.
“Exactly.”
They sit there for a while, the laptop screen casting a soft glow between them. Madi is still on the couch, scrolling through something on her phone now, her posture relaxed. The room feels quiet except for the faint hum of the computer fan.
Mimi shifts the laptop so they can see the hallway cameras. Nothing much happening—an empty corridor, a flickering light near the stairs. Then movement. Someone walks past, but it’s not one of the maids. It’s Kate, heading toward the main lounge. She’s wearing that red dress again, the one that makes everyone talk.
“Think she’s going to see Brian?” Mimi asks.
Wickie hums. “Probably. She can’t stay away from him for long, right?”
Mimi giggles. “I bet he’s already hard just thinking about it.”
Wickie watches Madi on the screen. “You know, out of all the girls here… I think Madi might be the most… challenging.”
Mimi raises an eyebrow. “You’re into that, huh? Girls who make you work for it?”
Wickie shrugs, trying to sound casual. “I mean, yeah. It’s exciting. Someone who’s not just… handing things over.”
Mimi grins. “Then I think you should go for it.”
Wickie turns to her, blinking. “Go for what?”
“Madi. You should flirt with her. Push her buttons.”
Wickie groans, shaking her head. “Madi doesn’t do flirting. She’s got zero patience for games.”
“But that’s why it would be fun,” Mimi insists. “She’s all business, all the time. But if you got her to break character? That would be amazing.”
Mimi laughs. “Listen, I usually try not to push my luck, you know… I didn’t decide right away to install this hidden camera in Alex and Kate’s room… And I really hope they won’t check the ceiling lamp fixture. Who the hell would even check the ceiling lamp fixture for a high-tech hidden camera?” She shrugs. “But you’re usually bolder. And every time we talk about Madi you get way too embarrassed. Maybe you should talk to Darcy about this? Before you completely fall for Madi.” She looks at the laptop screen. “Maybe you three could even start something together… You, Darcy, and Madi.”
Wickie presses closer to Mimi on the bed, their shoulders brushing as both lean in toward the screen. “She’d be fucking stunning, right?”
Mimi giggles, running her hand through her hair with the pink streaks. “I mean, if she’d even let herself go there. She’s the type who makes you work for it. You’d have to be really good to get her to break.”
Wickie sighs dreamily. “God, imagine if she did. If she just… let herself go.” She mimics Madi’s pose from the video, tilting her chin up slightly. “You know what I think? I think she’s the type who takes control. The one who’ll tell you exactly what she wants.”
Mimi watches Wickie unconsciously copying Madi’s movements. “Yeah? You think she’d be dominant?”
Wickie nods vigorously. “Absolutely. She’s got that confidence.”
Mimi giggles, nudging Wickie with her elbow. “Seriously, though, how hot would it be? Getting down on your knees in the dirt, letting Madi teach you all about cultivation, while her hands, all calloused from work…” She makes a teasing little growl. “God, and those hazel eyes of hers, so focused and intense, as she explains every little detail. I bet she’d make you memorize the Latin names of every flower, wouldn’t she?”
Wickie squirms, half-embarrassed, half-excited. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” She glances back at the laptop screen, where Madi rearranges some potted plants on the balcony. “But maybe you’re onto something. I mean, she’s always so precise, so careful. She’d probably have you doing everything just right, wouldn’t she?”
Mimi laughs. “Well, naturally! She’s one of ‘Alex’s mommies’ along with Amy. God, that always cracks me up… I mean, Alex and Amy are the same age, but Madi is three years younger than them… Still, being such a badass physician at Health&Cozy at just 26 is impressive… Though in our mansion, she’s basically Alex’s therapist for the most part. Hmm…”
Mimi pauses, deep in thought. “Listen, in her clinical-free time, she’s all about embroidery, knitting, and gardening. I think gardening is the easiest way in.” She wiggles her eyebrows playfully at Wickie. “Maybe that’s the key? Just imagine: long evenings together with Madi, tucking seeds into the dirt, fixing up the saplings, and keeping both the plants and your panties well-watered…”
Wickie groans, burying her face in her hands. “Mimi, I swear to god, you’re killing me here.” But she’s smiling as she says it, shifting closer on the bed. “You know, she does have these moments… where she gets really hands-on when she’s talking about something she loves.”
Mimi snorts. “Oh, I know. Remember when she was showing Alex those pictures of her rose garden?” She makes a little shivering motion. “The way she was explaining it all, so precise, so intent… I thought Alex was going to faint right there on the spot.”
Wickie laughs. “God, I remember. The way she leaned in, all intense, describing the thorns and petals like they were people.” She mimics Madi’s voice with a whispering intensity: “’The secret is in the layers, you see? The right combination of protection and invitation.’”
Mimi claps her hands together. “Exactly! And that’s what I mean. She’d make you work for it, but she’d make it feel like the most natural thing in the world.” She leans back against the wall, crossing her legs beneath her. “I bet if you just… I don’t know, got her talking about plants long enough, she’d start touching you without even realizing it.”
Wickie looks at her. “That’s not helping, Mimi.”
Mimi grins, unbothered. “What? It’s true! You should see her when she’s pruning the roses. She’s all… ‘now this one needs to be cut back, sweetheart, to encourage new growth.’” She laughs softly. “Oh, Wickie, gardening and our Madi are pure science.”
Wickie shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “I can’t even look at her without feeling like I’m being dissected.”
“And that’s why it would be fun,” Mimi presses, her eyes bright with mischief. “Imagine how she’d react if you actually pushed back once in a while. If you teased her right back.” She lowers her voice, almost to a purr. “I bet she’d try to keep control, but you’d catch it—that little moment where she loses her footing.”
Wickie bites her lip, glancing back at the screen where Madi kneels by a flowerbed, hands moving with practiced precision. “Yeah, I think you might be right.” Her voice drops. “God, she’d probably just put me in my place if I tried anything.”
Mimi wiggles her eyebrows. “Maybe. But wouldn’t that be half the fun? Watching her try not to react?”
Wickie’s fingers twitch against the laptop. “Yeah. Yeah, it would.”
“Then you should do it.” Mimi nudges her. “What’s the worst that could happen? She shuts it down? At least then you’ll know.”
Wickie swallows hard, staring at the screen as Madi rises and brushes dirt from her hands. “What if she just… laughs at me?”
Mimi shakes her head. “Nah. She doesn’t laugh at people.” She taps the screen where Madi pulls a small pair of garden shears from her pocket. “She just looks at you like you’re a puzzle she needs to solve.” Her grin widens. “And maybe, just maybe, you’ll make her break that look for once.”
Wickie exhales sharply, heart racing. “I don’t know. I mean, Darcy—“
Mimi waves a hand. “Oh, come on. Darcy doesn’t get to be the only fun one in this relationship. You can still have your secrets.”
Wickie shifts, tugging at her sleeve. “I dunno. What if I make it weird between us? What if she thinks I’m weird?”
Mimi laughs. “You’re already weird. You just haven’t been weird to her yet.”
Wickie groans and hides her face in her hands again. “God, you’re impossible.”
“But I’m right.” Mimi stretches her arms over her head, yawning. “Look, you don’t have to do anything big. Just pay attention next time you’re talking about gardening. Lean in a little closer. Be a little more… insistent when she’s explaining things.” She grins. “Make her realize you’re not just listening—you’re watching her too.”
Wickie lowers her hands, eyes still bright with uncertainty and something darker.
February 6, 11:00 PM, Kate’s art studio, first floor, Château des Rêves.
Kate glances at the clock on her phone. She’s about to finish work and leave the studio when a video call notification appears. It’s Aria.
“Oh, hi!” Kate says, cheerful but slightly tired. She walks through the brightly lit, spacious art studio in loose gray pants and a white shirt—the ones she changed into after talking with Daria in Alex and Kate’s room an hour and a half ago.
“Oh, sorry for calling so late, but you know me—I can’t wait until tomorrow,” Aria says from the screen, smiling. She lies completely naked in her Cocoavilla bedroom, covered only by a blanket.
Aria continues, waggling her eyebrows. “Listen, considering all the circumstances… Well, the fact that Brian is clearly moving in with you next week, if I’m not mistaken, and…” She pauses, narrowing her brown eyes. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do for February 14? Brian told me that starting next week you’re sending your Alex to the guest house, and you’ll be living in the same room with Brian…”
Kate leans against the canvas-covered easel, smirking at the phone in its holder nearby. “Well, well… Looks like someone’s got a vested interest in my Valentine’s Day plans.”
Aria giggles and pulls the blanket down just enough to show her bare shoulders. “Can you blame me? I’m practically invested at this point. Plus,” she props her chin on her hand, “I know how these things go. If you’re not careful, February 14th will sneak up on you like a drunk Brian at 3 AM.”
Kate chuckles and crosses her arms. “Oh, I doubt I’ll let it sneak up on me. I have a feeling my Valentine’s Day is gonna be… eventful.”
Aria’s eyebrows shoot up. “Eventful, huh? Now you’re speaking my language.” Her face fills the screen. “Listen, I was thinking… Maybe we could organize a little contest? Not a party—I know Alex wouldn’t survive that.” She rolls her eyes slightly while Kate listens with a deadpan expression. “Like, a best date contest. Between Alex and Brian. Twelve hours for each. With prizes and everything. That would fit into your idea of ‘eventful,’ wouldn’t it?”
Kate tilts her head, considering. Her expression stays neutral, but a spark of amusement dances in her blue eyes. “A contest, huh? That’s certainly one way to make Valentine’s Day… memorable.”
Aria giggles. “Basically, Alex and Brian will compete to see who can take you on a better date. I already suggested it to Brian. He’s generally not against it.” She says it almost casually. “So now it’s up to Alex. I think we can make it into a small, intimate reality show—just the four of us, plus a small jury that doesn’t know either Alex or Brian. For better objectivity, of course. Although the final decision will naturally be yours, bestie.”
Kate smirks, already intrigued by the audacity of the idea. “So let me get this straight—you want to turn my Valentine’s Day into some kind of intimate competition between two guys I’m sleeping with?”
Aria nods enthusiastically, her bare shoulders glistening in the soft bedroom light. “Exactly! And not just any two guys—one’s your devoted partner of four years, and the other is a ridiculously well-endowed basketball player who’s about to move into your room. And with whom you had amazing first-time sex in Topanga last night. It was amazing, wasn’t it? I mean, come on, Kate. If that’s not prime reality TV material, I don’t know what is. Some people make homemade sex videos. But you’ll have a homemade reality show.”
Kate uncrosses her arms and leans back against the easel, tapping her fingers against the canvas. “And the jury? Who did you have in mind?”
Aria’s eyes sparkle mischievously. “They’ll be secret, of course. But I think I can persuade someone like… I don’t know, maybe Dara Liva? Or even Miley Thompson? She loves this kind of drama. And hey, they’d both get a front-row seat to see if your Alex can really keep up with Brian’s… talents.”
Kate exhales slowly, tilting her head. The canvas creaks slightly under her fingers. “Dara would be interested, yeah,” she muses, tapping the edge of the easel. “She’s always up for… boundary-pushing entertainment.”
“And Thompson loves a scandal,” Aria adds, stretching her arms above her head. The blanket slips further, leaving nothing to the imagination. She has no intention of covering up. “But listen, this isn’t just for an audience, bestie. It’s for you. It’s a chance to decide—really decide—what you want.” She bites her lower lip, watching Kate with playfulness. “And it might be the most honest way to figure it out.”
Kate smiles slightly at Aria on the screen. “Honest,” she echoes, rolling the word over in her mouth. “I guess that’s one way to put it.”
“Well, not like I haven’t been honest with you before,” Aria purrs, resting her head on her hand. “We’ve known each other for many years. Remember back in college when I told you that guy with the septum ring would fuck better than the one you were dating? And I was right.”
Kate laughs and shakes her head. “That was different.”
“How?” Aria challenges, eyes bright with amusement. “You were curious about something new. I helped you try it. Now you’re curious about something else. And I’m helping you try that too.”
Silence falls.
Aria leans closer to her laptop screen. “Hey, is everything okay, bestie? Listen, about what happened a few days ago…” She sighs. “I probably shouldn’t have insisted on telling Alex the whole situation with Brian myself. Yeah, on Saturday morning I dumped everything on him while you were hanging out at the gallery with Tori. February 3, 2024 is definitely going down in your calendar as a special day. I bet your girls at Château have already painted me as some kind of monster trying to tear you away from Alex, booo…”
She makes a scary face, then continues with a giggle. “By the way, Brian is also worried about Alex, can you imagine? Just don’t tell anyone, or it’ll ruin his image as a cool black guy with a big black cock…”
Aria pronounces the last words slowly, almost syllable by syllable. Kate adjusts the angle of her phone holder, soft studio light catching on the canvas easel as she studies her best friend through the screen.
“Brian’s worried about Alex? That’s actually kinda sweet.” She traces the edge of her canvas with one nail, voice dry as ever. “I guess even guys with fifteen-inch dicks have a soft spot for someone.”
Aria giggles, shifting so the laptop camera catches more of her bare shoulders. “Don’t you mean sixteen? Brian’s got a gift, bestie, and he knows how to use it.” She taps a manicured finger against the screen. “Okay, enough with the measurements. Point is, he’s not as heartless as people think. Neither am I.” Her voice softens. Kate notices Aria’s eyes dart away from the camera for a second before she continues. “I do care about you. And Alex… he’s complicated. But he’s good to you. I wouldn’t want to mess that up for nothing.”
Kate nods, fingers still tracing patterns on the canvas. “Yeah, I know. But…” She bites her lower lip. “This thing with Brian… it’s not just about him. It’s about what I want. And I think… I think I need to figure that out.”
Aria’s smile turns warmer. “That’s why I came up with the Valentine’s thing, bestie. You, Alex, and Brian all need to agree on the terminology. Depending on who wins and who loses, we adjust the relationship between you, Alex, and Brian. And me, of course.”
Kate stares at her phone, watching Aria’s face shift into something more calculating under the playful tone. “Adjustments to the relationship?” She arches a brow. “What kind?”
Aria laughs softly. “That’s the fun part. If Brian wins your heart on the 14th, you officially crown him your main man—right there in front of the jury, in front of Alex, in front of me. No more vague ‘experiments’ or ‘expansions.’ You tell Alex to his face that from now on Brian sleeps in your bed every night and fucks you whenever he wants. Alex stays your sweet boy in the guest house—forehead kisses, emotional support, nothing intimate for a few months even after Erodreamarts. He keeps writing his books, you keep painting and golfing, and we all just… flow.
If Alex wins—Brian moves into the second bedroom. Still gets to rail you, but no more sleeping in your arms. And I deprive him of sex with me for a whole month as punishment. Sounds fair, or do you need me to sweeten the deal?” She tilts her head, ponytail slipping over one shoulder, eyes sparkling with that familiar mix of mischief and hunger.
Kate lets out a slow breath, tapping the edge of her phone. The proposition hangs between them—absurd and yet not entirely insane. She meets Aria’s gaze through the screen, searching for a trick, a hidden motive. Aria just watches her, waiting, biting the inside of her cheek the way she always does when she’s trying not to grin too hard.
“That’s… a lot,” Kate says finally.
Aria nods. “I know. But it’s honest. And I think that’s what we all need right now.” She shifts on the bed, crossing her legs. “Alex is scared, but he already agreed to all of this.” She waves a hand at the entire chaotic mess of their relationships. “Brian’s… Brian. He wants you bad, but he’s not an idiot. He knows Alex is important to you.” She chews on her thumb. “And me? I’m just here to make sure everything goes smoothly.”
Kate’s pulse quickens despite herself. “And what if neither of them wins?” She tilts her head. “What if I decide I don’t want to choose?”
Aria’s grin widens, sharp and calculating. “Then we adjust. But, bestie…” She leans closer to the camera. “You need to make a choice eventually. Not for me, not for Brian—hell, not even for Alex. For yourself.” Her voice softens. “You’ve been in this limbo for weeks. You can’t keep stalling forever.”
Kate exhales through her nose, fingers drumming against the canvas. “I know.”
And maybe that’s why Aria’s ridiculous game doesn’t feel so ridiculous anymore. A clean line in the sand. A real moment of decision. Not just another night of half-admissions and ambiguous glances.
Aria watches her for a beat, then hums softly. “You like that, don’t you?” The tease carries something almost tender. “The idea of it. The control. The spectacle.” She leans back against her pillows, stretching her legs. “I always knew you had a secret exhibitionist streak, Kate. It’s why I love pushing your buttons.”
Kate huffs a laugh, shaking her head. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Aria grins. “It’s not. It’s fucking hot.” She runs a hand through her ponytail. The image on Kate’s phone tilts and blurs for a second as Aria settles the laptop on her lap, then her face comes back into focus.
“Just tell Alex about it,” Aria says. “If you two decide this idea is bad—we forget it. But let me know your decision in the next couple of days.”
She sighs. “Alright, it’s almost midnight. Neither of us works in an office, but we’re both busy women. So… bye!” She almost sings the last word.
“And goodnight,” Kate answers, resignation and amusement balanced on her face.