Trifecta by Kim Carmichael Page A

mouth, but his phone went off again.
    Russ?  Lauren texted.
    "Dude, hey.  I was just joking."  Tom held his hand out. "Even if Jason is gay it doesn't make you gay. You're getting laid."
    Yes, he was getting laid.  Laid with his two best friends, one who happened to be a man.  What did that mean?  More than that, what did the three of them mean?  Once again the phone vibrated.
    I think I need to finish some calls.   Lauren let him off the hook.  Russ needs to work.
    He didn't need to be in the same room as Lauren to know she had her lower lip pursed out even if she was trying to smile.  All he wanted to do was go to them.  Both of them.
    Russ needs something else. Jason prodded.
    He nodded. Yes, he needed something else, but he wasn't sure what.   This wasn't as easy as bringing his ancient components to life.  I'll be home in twenty-five.  RS
     
    ***
     
    Jason glared at his phone when Russell's ring tone chimed.  His friend better not be on the way here.   Actually, Russell shocked him by agreeing to throw down his tie and leave.  He supposed it was testament to what great orgasms could accomplish.
    He tossed his pencil aside, stepping back from his canvas to assess his work.  The creative juices were literally and figuratively flowing ever since little Laurie crawled through his trio tunnel.  His two best friends and sex combined better than oil on canvas, or should he say were stunning in oil on canvas. 
    The only problem was, this wasn't supposed to be what he was creating.  Not technically.
    He didn't have enough art for a show, and his agent continued to try to get him to do contract work.  Art for hire. 
    Yes, he considered the projects, especially after his disastrous exhibit.  Of course, for weeks he didn't even enter the studio.  He couldn’t create a thing, not even a straight line. 
    Then one Sunday afternoon inspiration hit.  Not that he didn't think of this before, but this Sunday possessed a different energy.
    That Sunday they all hung around the house and decided to watch movies.  He tried to paint, sketch, anything, but ended up in the family room with his two best friends.  He noticed the three of them went out solo less and less. Lauren sat between them, her arms interlinked in both his and Russell's.  An innocent gesture, probably one she made a million times over the years.
    At Lauren's touch, he relaxed, put his feet up on the coffee table and almost reached down and grabbed her hand. It was natural, right, and he leaned up to find Russell staring down at her hand as well. 
    Since second grade they shared everything. 
    Well, almost everything. 
    Neither of them ever had a successful relationship, maybe because they didn't share.
    The moment he cemented the idea in his head he went to the studio to draw. 
    His phone went off a second time jolting him out of his thoughts.  He prepared himself for battle and read the text message.
    You said you'd get everything ready . Home in ten open the wine. RS
    Don't text and drive.   He typed back and shook his head.  To this day, Russell felt the need to initial all his texts as if they were an official correspondence.  He made one quick swipe with his pencil, covered up his latest masterpiece in waiting and dashed out of his studio.  They decided to eat before the night's festivities.
    Stop light.  Turn off the crockpot.  RS
    K. He hit send and went into the kitchen, pulling the crockpot plug out of the wall.  Lauren only used the crockpot about two times a year when she got on some housewife kick.  He didn't really understand the crockpot.  No matter what one made, or the ingredients used, everything tasted exactly the same, but this was the first time Russell used the crockpot.
    He lifted the lid and let the steam out trying to figure out if Russell knew some magic about crockpot cookery when his phone went off again.
    Put the lid back on.  RS
    He slammed the lid down, almost dropping it as to not to get caught by