A Kiss For Three

chapter 25

Rumors. Threats. Lies. Secrets. They swirled around me like cigarette smoke—thick, choking, impossible to escape. It was the same cycle every day: digging, hiding, and pretending. I’d lived in that rhythm for years. But lately, it felt heavier and colder.

Because then, for the first time, I knew what warmth felt like.

Adrian and Nico changed everything. They didn’t ask to, but just did. They were the quiet in my storm, the sunlight breaking through concrete. And maybe it was foolish, but I had started to believe that whatever this thing between us was—it was real. It was the only part of my life that didn’t bleed.

So when I texted them to meet me on the rooftop, I wasn’t thinking about Camille, or the blackmail, or the deadline hanging over me like a knife. I just needed a few hours to breathe.

The city air greeted me the moment I pushed open the rusted door at the top of the stairs. Cold wind, faint smell of rain. Our rooftop looked the same as always—messy, comfortable, home. A couch that was too old to be decent, a glass table littered with beer bottles and half-eaten sushi, fairy lights still tangled from the last time Nico tried to “fix” them.

I dropped onto the couch with a long sigh, head falling back against the cushion. My body felt like lead, but my chest felt lighter already.

“Well,” Adrian said with a low whistle, sitting beside me, “someone had a bad day.”

“You have no idea,” I muttered, grabbing the beer he offered without hesitation. I drank straight from the neck, the taste bitter and perfect.

He chuckled. “You can always tell us, you know that.”

“I know.”

He nudged my knee lightly. “Remember the rules? You can count on us.”

“It’s not that,” I whispered, tracing the rim of the bottle with my thumb. “I just… wanted to think of something else. Anything else.”

Nico, sitting cross-legged on the ground beside the couch, tilted his head. “Then let’s play.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Play?”

“Truth or dare,” Adrian supplied, mischief in his eyes. “If you want to get out of your head, this’ll do it.”

I sighed, but my lips twitched. “Fine. But I’m too tired to run around naked, so pick your dares wisely.”

They laughed, and the game began.

At first, it was easy. Nico admitted he once tried to flirt with a girl in high school, tripped, and faceplanted into a puddle. I laughed so hard I nearly choked on my drink. Adrian’s dare was to climb onto the glass table and act like a chicken, screaming “bok bok” into the city night until someone from another building yelled, “Shut up!”

Nico and I collapsed in laughter, both of us crying from it.

Then it was my turn. I dared to juggle beer caps. I tried. I failed spectacularly. They laughed even harder. We went on like that—hours of stupid questions, dares, and laughter that hurt in the best way. For a while, it felt like we were the only people in the world.

But like all things, the game shifted. The questions grew slower, heavier, more intimate.

Nico leaned back, his voice lazy from beer. “All right. Truth.” He pointed at Adrian. “Your first time. How was it?”

Adrian smirked, not even pretending to be shy. “Fast, awkward, and in a car. Romantic, huh?”

I snorted into my drink. “That’s tragic.”

He shot back, “Oh yeah? What about you, Iris?”

I shrugged. “Weirder. My ex had a thing for… well, handcuffs. And not in a fun way.”

That got another round of laughter. Even I couldn’t help it. The more we talked, the easier everything felt. No fear, no guilt—just honesty and cheap beer.

Later, Nico asked, “What’s the weirdest fantasy you never tried?”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s private.”

He smirked. “It’s truth or dare, remember?”

I hesitated, then said quietly, “Someone once made me feel small. I always wanted to find someone who’d make me feel safe again, without breaking me first.”

Neither of them laughed this time. They just looked at me. And for a moment, the night went still.

Then Adrian lifted his bottle slightly. “To being safe.”

We clinked bottles, and I drank.

The next questions came slower. The laughter softer. Nico’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes bright. Adrian leaned back with that easy calm of his. I could feel their warmth pressing in from either side.

“What’s the worst thing someone can do?” Nico asked after a pause, his voice rough around the edges.

“Be a man,” I said automatically.

Adrian gasped in mock offense. “Oh no, she’s started again with the hate campaign. Should we start hormone therapy, Nico? Or book a flight to Thailand?”

Nico groaned. “Shut up, Adrian.”

We all dissolved into laughter again, the kind that came from too much beer and too much trust.

Somehow, my hand brushed against Nico’s. On my other side, my fingers grazed Adrian’s. I didn’t pull back. Neither did they.

Nico looked up at me through his lashes, a slow smile spreading. He caught my hand, turned it over, and pressed a soft kiss against my knuckles. It was barely a touch, but it stole the air from my lungs.

Before I could say anything, Adrian leaned in and kissed my cheek—gentle, fleeting, but enough to set fire under my skin. My heart raced. My breath caught. I leaned back into the couch, the world spinning softly.

Adrian’s voice dropped low. “Do you ever wish rules didn’t exist?”

I stared at him, the city lights reflecting in his eyes. “They don’t. Not here.”

Nico’s voice was a whisper. “Our rules.”

Silence. Heavy, electric. We just looked at each other—three people caught in something they didn’t dare name.

Finally, I said quietly, “Maybe they don’t have to.”

No one answered. But they didn’t need to. The look in their eyes said everything I was too afraid to admit. That boundaries had stopped existing long ago.