Sunday mornings were always slow in their apartment—sunlight pooling on the hardwood floors, the smell of coffee drifting through open windows, bare legs tangled in soft sheets.
Asha sat on the balcony wrapped in a linen robe, mug warm in her hands, watching the city stir. She heard laughter behind her—Sam’s deep chuckle, and another voice layered over it, lighter, unfamiliar. Melodic.
Riley.
They’d stayed over for the first time.
Asha had invited them.
Not on impulse—this had been building for weeks. The soft flirtation. The late-night texts. The shy-but-not-really glances across the couch. The long talk she and Sam had afterward—curled against each other in bed, his fingers tracing circles on her hip as he whispered, “I think you should kiss them. I want to watch you fall for someone.”
Last night, she did.
Riley had come over for drinks. And stayed. And then everything blurred into velvet kisses, shared moans, limbs entwined. Sam had been there—present, grounding, moving between them like he already knew how they’d fit.
It hadn’t felt like stepping away from Sam. It felt like expanding.
Now, she heard the soft rustle of sheets, the low murmur of Riley’s voice in the other room. Then footsteps.
Sam stepped onto the balcony shirtless, hair tousled, eyes warm. He leaned against the railing, sipping his coffee, his smile slow and full of something private.
“She’s still asleep,” he said.
Asha smiled. “You look like someone who didn’t get much sleep either.”
He grinned, lips twitching. “No complaints.”
She studied his face—the flush in his cheeks, the slight marks on his neck. She’d been on the other side of that mouth last night. Watched him take Riley apart with that same focus, that same fire.
And it didn’t make her jealous. It made her ache with love.
“You looked beautiful with her,” she said softly.
He turned toward her, serious now. “And you looked… free. I’ve never seen you like that before.”
She stepped into him, laid her head on his shoulder. They stood there in silence for a while, the city humming around them. It wasn’t about novelty, or sex, or escape. It was about the way the world opened wider when you stopped gripping too tight.
“She said she’d like to see us again,” Sam murmured.
Asha looked up. “Together?”
He nodded. “Or one-on-one. She said she’s not here to break anything. She just wants to be allowed in.”
Asha’s heart swelled. Not everyone understood. But some did. Some knew that love didn’t have to be scarce to be sacred.
She took his hand, squeezed it.
“Let’s let her in, then.”