Abby, directly

Abby smiles at me when I open the door and asks, “May I come in, Ben?”

“Sure, Abby,” I say, waving her to the couch. “Would you like anything?”

“Yes, but nothing to drink, please,” she says with a half-smile. I look at her curiously and sit down. She gives me a direct look with her heather-grey eyes and says, “You heard Bailey and Jessica through the window, didn’t you.” The words should be a question, but there’s no question in her tone. I start in surprise, then feel myself flushing.

“Yes, I did,” I say, years of training helping me keep my voice calm and matter-of-fact. “Or rather, I heard Bailey. I didn’t hear anything Jessica said.”

“I thought so,” Abby replies, her voice equally calm. “I had seen you at the window, and I was sure Bailey at least was loud enough for you to overhear. Then a couple things Scarlett said fit with that idea.”

“Wait—” I say, feeling a bubble of panic beneath my breastbone. “A couple things Scarlett said about what?”

To my amazement, Abby giggles. “About spending a solid week fucking you, of course.” My face heats, and she giggles harder. “You should see your face, Ben. They could put you on a pole and use you for a stoplight.” I blush even harder at that. “Of course we talk, Ben. We talk about everything. We have for years. Most of us have known for years that we all want to fuck you. Lily didn’t know because we didn’t talk about it in front of her; I’m not sure why Jess hadn’t realized it, but it seems she honestly thought she was the only one until Bailey set her straight.

“Scarlett started talking to Lily about it before she—Scarlett I mean—turned 18 . . . she wanted you for her birthday present.” My eyes go wide. “Lily . . . had trouble with that, and wouldn’t go for it. But she talked Lily around, with help from Bailey and Meaghan and me. We got Lily to agree that we all get to fuck you. Jess, of course, wants to keep you once we’ve all had our turn—and she’s not the only one . . .” Abby licks her lips sensuously.

“What do you mean—keep me?” I ask, my mind racing.

Abby raises an eyebrow and looks at me like I’m being deliberately dense—which, I suppose, I am. “You know what I mean, Mr. Harrison. Keep you as in boyfriend-girlfriend, then hopefully ring, marriage, babies, and happily ever after.” I start to open my mouth, and she puts a finger on my lips. “None of us wants to hear about your age, Ben. None of us cares. As it happens, we know your grandfathers are still hiking together in their 80s—and your grandmothers are still enjoying complaining together about them going hiking—and your great-grandparents all lived into their 90s. I asked Lily. What’s more, we know you take good care of yourself.” She looks me up and down salaciously. “We didn’t have to ask Lily about that. So when we turn 70, you’ll be 92. Who cares?”

“Your parents will,” I say hoarsely. “None of them would like the idea of their daughter dating someone their age.”

“Some of them could be a problem,” Abby admits, her tone judicious. “On the other hand, I know my mom’s onboard, and—”

“What?!”

“Ben, it’s been just my mom and me for most of my life. We talk about everything. She’s known for years that I lusted for you.” I shake my head, stunned. I can’t believe I’m hearing this. “She’s made it clear she wants a chance with you, too, as long as all six of us are getting ours.” I think I’m going into overload here. This is too much. “I think you’d find, if you could ask, that some of the other parents have also been brought around. Bailey’s are the only ones I’m sure haven’t been.”

A thought suddenly occurs to me: Did Fiona actually know what she was doing? Abby must see the question in my eyes. “I don’t know if Scarlett’s mom knows or not. On the other hand, remember that her mom married a man sixteen years older than she is, so I don’t see either of them as likely to object to the idea too strongly. They had to fight their families to get married, and they’ve never regretted it.” I nod slowly—I’ve heard Scarlett tell the story a couple times. Now that I think about it, she made a point of telling me the story a couple times. Maybe there was a message there that I missed.

“Now, Ben, we agreed that each of us gets at least one good chance to fuck you. Scarlett wanted dibs on going first, though I wouldn’t have been surprised if one of the others had snuck in ahead of her. Actually, Bailey and I tried to talk Jess into making a play for you at the party—the rest of us would have gone off to a movie to give you two some time alone—but we couldn’t quite get her to take the leap. In an alternate universe somewhere, I guess.

“But this is my turn, and I’m done talking about the other girls. Now is for me.” With that pronouncement, Abby swings herself astride my lap, embraces my neck, and kisses me hungrily.