"The cruise line must be paying Samentha a fortune," Vic wheezed, breathless with laughter, "all just to keep us engaged." We were en route to our stateroom. Our continued antics drew curious looks from other passengers; however, the corridor was mostly empty. Besides, our situation was simply too hilarious to keep quiet.

"And-and we forgot to ask the most, the most important question," Lexie managed through fits of giggles. "Will we win the prize money?"

"D'ah! We had a psychic at our disposal, and we blew it!" Vic heaved a jovial sigh.

"We don't need That's So Samentha to see our future." I chuckled. "Devon Star Bentley does not play to lose, especially considering how much my family needs that money. Plus, Vic needs . . ." I trailed off before I put my foot in my mouth. It wasn't my place to reveal someone else's personal struggles.

"Vic needs what?" Lexie chirped. Her dancing eyes moved from me to Vic, who studied the floor with a frown. Silence nosed into the exchange, and Lexie sobered as she laid a caring hand on their shoulder. "Hey, what's going on? Is everything okay?"

"It's fine. I need a place," Vic mumbled. "My, uh . . . I got kicked out. Sort of. It's complicated."

"Oh my god! Are you serious?" Lexie grabbed their shirt and stopped them in their tracks. Roses blossomed on Vic's high cheeks. Their dark eyes never left the carpet, preoccupied with the kaleidoscope of colors and patterns. "Are your parents upset because of—? You know."

"Look, don't speculate, alright," Vic groaned. "This isn't really about my family. The whole world wants to dictate what being nonbinary means for me. People either want me to be more androgynous or less androgynous, or they want me to use they/them pronouns but pick a gender or to try on gender non-conformity but take it off when its inconvenient.

"I'm so—I'm sick of it from everyone. The one thing that will put me in a strong enough position to take full control of my life is winning that prize. I'll finally be able to be myself," Vic went on, "and that's why I'm willing to work with Shane, why I'm willing to play this game with you two. Never mind our weird history and even weirder potential future after this. How hard can it be to fake it 'til we make this money?"

"Speaking of faking it." I hiked a thumb at a Three's Company staff member rounding the corner with a clipboard in hand. "Incoming bonus points for PDA. Quick, let's stage a kiss."

"Say what now?" Vic choked out.

Laughing, I clarified, "Actually, I was talking to Lex, but. . ." Vic smiled and flipped me off. I caught Lexie's svelte body in my arms and pivoted. Suddenly, she was crushed between me and Vic, whose eyes widened and softened. My friend's back was against the wall. I raised a brow at the 'disarmed but intrigued' face. "We're supposed to be a threesome, right?"

Half-hidden by one of the eight-foot-tall decorative palms positioned at regular intervals along the corridor, we had time to change our minds. The blue uniformed staff member for whom this ballsy interlude was playing out was still a good pace away and hadn't seen us yet. Yet, Lexie nodded emphatic consent because yes. Yes, we both wanted this. Right now. And Vic didn't protest.

Lexie's hands went behind my neck. The lip-lock was deep and searing, turning my need for her up a thousand notches. Whatever lust had been stirring in the background for months moved front and center, except the desire didn't stop there. How could it with unforeseen attraction to our nonbinary friend thrown in for good measure?

Not only hers, mine. I was into Vic, and I had a sneaking suspicion I had always been. In some ways, the astrological reading had allowed the taboo inclination to step into the light for me.

At the same time, a sensuous, whimpering Lexie was slow grinding against Vic while she kissed me. I wanted her to have whatever lit her fuse—even if it was someone else. In fact, the novel idea of sharing her with another was doing something strange to my libido. A tortured moan from Vic told me I wasn't alone in yearning.

"I'm sorry. Got carried away." I tried to retreat.

Yet, Vic grabbed my collar and kept me in place. "Give me a minute."

"O . . . kay. Tell me what you want." I smiled.

"This. To feel this." Vic opened their eyes and wet their lips.

With a raised eyebrow, I gave it a beat before asking, "To feel . . . Lex?" Our audience—the Three's Company staff member—would soon be upon us. Was this still for show? Not entirely. I stared into the abyss of arousal in Vic's eyes. "Is that what you both want?"

Lexie gave a tentative nod.

I clasped her face and brought her lips to mine to savor the taste of her admission. "Then, what's stopping you two?" I murmured.

Her eyelids fluttered shut. She helplessly breathed Vic's name when their lingering kiss graced the curve of her neck. Giving in to the impulse seemed to unlock more daring. Vic traced the tip of their tongue to Lexie's earlobe as she trembled in elation.

Vic's hands traversed the hills of Lexie's breasts. The lush cleavage paid homage to every "heaving bosom" in her beloved romance novels. Then Vic drew Lexie's shirt lower to share the bountiful view with me. Brown skin glistened like sugar sand under the golden shell wall sconce. I wanted to bury myself in her. She looked like high tide was near.

It was clear the feeling was mutual. Her moans and tiny gasps were proof. The quivering legs. The way she squeezed her thighs together and lolled her head on Vic's shoulder and rubbed herself against me. All of it. It was impossible to ignore the tell-tale signs that without some method of doing this hands-off, the three of us were in for two-weeks of fake dating, real torment.

As if to prove myself right, in the rush of exploring Lexie's body, my fingertips grazed Vic's hip. Rather than move my hand, however, I smoothed the pad of my thumb across the forbidden zone of bare skin between designer t-shirt and trousers. Vic uncharacteristically pushed into the caress, and my body throbbed in anticipation.

Behind me, I heard the passing staff member's cheeky snicker. "You got a room, folks," he admonished. And just like that, the need for the public display was over. That was our cue to jerk apart like the three of us had been caught red-handed. The bulge in my pants that I turned to hide was authentic, though, because—WTF—that had gotten intense. I shoved my bewilderment about the timing of the hard-on into the Ponder Later pile.

"There, see? Mission accomplished." I privately flashed a thumbs up to Vic and Lexie. The Three's Company guy was jotting something on his clipboard. He was too far along for me to know for certain what he wrote, but I was pretty sure it was bonus points.

We were a winning threesome—trio—a winning trio. I blamed my elevated heartrate and sweaty palms on a well-established attraction to Lexie. But I couldn't admit my reaction had anything to do with Vic. My nonbinary companion went both ways, true. Irrespective of that, pitting our friendship against a casual fling wasn't an even match-up. I placed more of a premium on our friendship.

The three of us avoided eye contact for the rest of the trek to the stateroom, trading awkward banter to prevent a stale silence from descending. I felt like I was on a high-stakes tightrope walk. There was no question Lexie wanted me as much as I wanted her. She wanted Vic with the same intensity.

Hell, if forced to rifle through the Ponder Later pile, I could acknowledge my feelings for Vic went deeper than platonic, too. I didn't know if it was mutual or not, but my impromptu advances hadn't been rejected a minute ago.

So, what did that mean for us? The team had a huge liability: None of us had factored in how much authentic chemistry might hamper our dating charade. One wrong move, and our cover would be blown. We'd lose the prize money. I refused to let that happen.

I scanned the lock with my keycard, pausing on the threshold. It didn't seem smart to get stuck behind closed doors with Lexie and Vic after that incredible make-out session. Granted, it was auspicious of the cruise line itinerary to leave plenty of hours between the scheduled bonding sessions to give us time to ourselves. I needed an escape.

"Think I'm gonna do some exploring. You two head in." I backed away, but that asshole Shane exited the door across the hall. Profanity laced my next breath. I didn't want to deal with him.

"Hey, teammates." West boozily tipped a tropical cocktail at us. Gabrielle called out a greeting to Vic, who waved. It rankled.

"My man Devon!" Shane greeted me with a hand slap instead of a handshake. "Just the right person to appreciate our contraband. Me and the loves are re-upping on drinks, then retiring with some grade-A sativa. You want in? You guys want in?" His gaze encompassed Lexie and Vic, lingering on the shapely brown legs bared by Lexie's white mini shorts. She propped a hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes in displeasure.

I tamped down on my ire. "Nah. We're good. I don't smoke."

"Oh! Stereotypes! Sorry. That was—that's on me, man. My bad." His fair brown skin flushed red.

"Don't worry about it." I waved him off, but he parked a shoulder against the doorjamb of our room. I nixed exploring the ship. Not only did I not want to run into them every turn, but I also didn't want to leave him to harass my friends. What would staying in and struggling with my sus feelings for my roommates hurt? Nothing a pair of earbuds and the right playlist at top volume couldn't handle.

"So how long you guys been dating?" Gabrielle launched into small talk. I narrowed my eyes at her. Something about her success at making Vic smile rubbed me the wrong way.

"A year," I answered.

As Lexie said, "Three years."

"A few months," Vic replied in tandem.

I broke into a nervous laugh. "Ha! Look at us! How do you measure true love?"

"I mean," Shane drawled, "you measure it according to how long you've been dating. Oh, hold up! Are you guys together-together or did you, like, form a loose association so you could take advantage of a discounted trip?" There was a twinkle of merriment in his eyes as he leaned in for answers.

Lexie put a little too much chuck in her chuckle. "Dude, who would do that?"

"Tuh! Us," West admitted.

"I guess technically we did." Gabrielle twined a strand of purple hair around her finger. "Well, but we have a situationship. We're mostly together until someone needs greater flexibility. I overhead that Jackie woman saying she had to reshuffle teams because they figured out a group of cousins were masquerading as a romantic quad. Plus, a few others opted out. I guess that narrows the playing field!

"Anyway, I don't care about your relationship status, but whoever the big-timer bankrolling the prize money is, word around the ship is they prefer only the people seriously in love to be in the running," said Gabrielle. "So, you know, get your stories straight. You don't want to ruin our chances of winning."

"How the hell can they verify the seriousness of anyone's relationship?" Vic's brow furrowed.

"They can't. Not really. Unless someone tells." Grinning, Shane pushed his hands in his pockets and straightened from his slouch against the door frame. "Hey, don't worry about it, They/Them. Nobody's gonna say anything. Since we let you in on our secret stash of weed, we're even. Your secret's safe with us."

"Except, there is no secret," I insisted. "My partners and I have been together off and on for three years, which is why we each view our anniversary dates differently. Shit happens. As far as the competition goes, my squad is reliable. I just hope you guys are, given your . . . situationship. That prize money will cover my dad's cancer treatment. I've got too much at stake and no room for error."

"Don't we know it, brother. Sorry about your dad. Glad that bad first impression is water under the bridge." The asshole sympathetically patted my shoulder. I eyed him a second before nodding.

I was skeptical of his sudden change of heart, but I wondered if he was being sincere. As he beckoned for his group to leave, Lexie, Vic, and I watched them disappear into the elevators at the end of the hall. The moment they were out of sight, I yanked my friends into our stateroom.

"Alright, we need to come up with a cohesive back story, ASAP." I slammed the door behind us. "Considering the Three's Company crew is on the lookout for passengers trying to rig the competition, our bonus points interlude a while ago was a genius move, but we have got to nail down an agreed upon history, so we don't have another Battle of the Wrong Answers." I paced in a spurt of nervous energy.

"I say we've been together three years, met at university," Vic contributed.

"Good. That's easy enough to remember."

Lexie stretched on the bed like a feline and let her heavy eyelids drift shut. "It was a rainy day," she said. "I was sitting alone in the library, crying about another failed math test, when you sidled close and told me you'd be a listening ear if I needed."

"Nice, nice. A tad bit elaborate, but I guess it adds character. What else?"

She giggled dreamily. "I said something like, 'Unless you can hack into the system and give me an A in freshman math, I need you to move the fuck on,' and you said—"

"'Your eyes are like two precious stones that should never know the river of your tears.'" The words fell from my lips before I could process them. They were corny as a theater floor after a blockbuster movie. Freezing mid-step, my eyebrows shot upward, mouth agape.

Lexie rose on her elbows with a reassessing smile. "I mean, that line doesn't work there, but we can save it for our first date story. Did you come up with that by yourself?"

"Should've been better, given the source material." I rocked on my heels as I met her gaze. For a split second, I considered a foolhardy attempt at a strictly physical relationship with her. When she tilted her chin, the regal pose reminded me that even something 'strictly physical' might be too dangerous, too inescapable.

Vic stepped into our line of sight. With hands in pockets, tongue tucked in the corner of their mouth, they appeared both shy and seductive at once. "I said, 'I can help you ace your class. Fucking is optional.'"

I caught the way Lexie's eyes darkened at the response. The slight caving inward of her frame before she pushed her bust forward and tossed her hair. The look they shared, what passed between them needed no translation.

Smiling wryly at the floor, I nodded understanding. "This is based on a true story. Where do I fit?" The question was half in jest, half a serious bid to bring equanimity to this faux polyamorous affair we were trying to make of a lopsided love triangle. The magnetism between these two was off the charts.

Vic strolled to the window and stared at the plate glass sea before peering back at me. "Let's figure that out, shall we? Where did we meet, Dev? The ball court, right?" Their pointed gaze hooked mine and refused to let go.

"Actually, if I remember correctly . . . theshowers," I confessed.