Free Teacher's Pets [Unlikely Bedfellows 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Jenna Stewart Page A

same time Beau’s door opened. Beautiful Leah brushed past Beau, pausing to kiss him.
    “Good night, Steve,” she said coolly as she went down the hall. He leaned against the doorframe and scratched his ear while Beau walked her out to her car. The bastard was bare chested, barefoot, and looked thoroughly satisfied. As did she. Steve sighed.
    The sound of Leah’s Datsun pulling away followed Beau back into the house.
    Steve wandered into his bedroom, wondering if he should ask about the evening or not. When Beau came out of his room carrying a tray with a saucepan and the remnants of the French bread, Steve decided to find out what his friend would volunteer.
    “So,” he started, settling at the breakfast bar.
    “So,” Beau agreed. “How was your evening?” He rinsed two salad bowls and rewrapped what remained of the bread. “The sauce was great. Thanks.”
    “Not a problem. It burned, huh?”
    Beau shot him a sheepish look. “I was distracted.”
    “I can imagine. I don’t want to, but unfortunately, I can.”
    Smiling, Beau said, “I promise, nothing you could possibly imagine, nothing in your wildest dreams, nothing you’ve ever experienced—”
    “Jesus Christ, stop! I get it. You heard angels sing.”
    “Right there at the foot of the bed.”
    “I’m thrilled for you.”
    Beau laughed. “I can tell.”
    “When are you seeing her again?”
    “Next Friday. She has to see Little on Wednesday.”
    “What? Seven hours with the god of the sheets and she’s still going to sleep with that little wimp? Pun intended.”
    Beau absently scratched his arm. “You were right. There’s something going on, something she’s doing with him and me.”
    “God only knows what she’s doing with him.” Steve studied his friend. “Does it bother you?”
    “Well, yeah. I think it does.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, in the same pose he’d struck when Leah arrived.
    “I mean, it’s not like it was me she was with as the second man.” Steve said it as a joke but half wished it was true.
    “I know,” Beau said, surprising him.
    “So what do you think is going on?”
    “Don’t know. It’s as though we’re subjects in an experiment. And it won’t be you,” he added. “I tried to tell her that you’re okay, but she wouldn’t even consider giving you another chance.”
    Hearing that bothered Steve more than he cared to admit. When he’d first known her, Leah had been the mythical girl about whom someone could say, “she has a good personality.” The fact was, he would have been happy to vouch for the fact that she was worth spending time with. Sure, he was as shallow as the next guy. He wouldn’t have tried to get her into bed. But there was real substance in her. Substance he’d appreciated then and still did. Taking a woman’s virginity in a drunken fuck was a big deal. But he hated that Leah didn’t think of him with even some small degree of friendship, despite that last night.
    “She has good reason,” he said. “I wish I’d never asked her to the party.”
    “Maybe she’ll come around.”
    “Maybe.” But he didn’t think so. Regret settled in his stomach like a stone.
    “Well, I’m hitting the sack,” Beau said. “Thanks for giving us some space tonight.”
    “Hey, no big deal.”
    “You going to bed?”
    He’d come home ready for bed, mentally drained. Now, for some reason, he knew he’d never be able to sleep. “After a while.”
    “Okay. See you in the morning.”
    “Yeah. Sleep well.”
    Beau’s door closed. The evidence was clear. Beau and Leah had hit it off, big time. They had fucked the night away then eaten his sauce with bread, no doubt in bed. Probably feeding each other like lovesick teens. Then they’d planned another tryst, during which he’d probably have to vacate the house again.
    The first woman he’d ever thought of as a friend—which was a hell of a lot harder to find than a woman to fuck, and he wished Leah could