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Three of Hearts

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Though I’m not a fan of weddings, I have to say—this one isn’t half bad.

I suppose it’s different when two of your closest friends are tying the knot. I’m so entrenched in their history it’s as if I had a hand in personally ushering them to the altar. 

And though the past is well under the bridge by now, watching Gale and Madge exchange vows officially sweeps away any lingering shards of it, and all that remains is peace. The ceremony is both cathartic and beautiful, and I find myself discreetly wiping under my eyes.

“Crybaby,” Peeta whispers, his lips brushing my ear.

I’ve never been one to fall prey to cheap tears at conventional festivities, but it’s hard not to get emotional when six-foot-three, stern-faced Gale Hawthorne sobs like a child when his tiny bride glides down the aisle in a custom Vera Wang gown.

The dress and this entire event was paid for courtesy of Mr. and Mrs. Undersee, who despite Gale’s initial fears, not only approved of the match but gave their new son-in-law a job at Undersee Corporation when he graduated from Panem University last May. It was a perfect fit for Gale, fresh out of school with an engineering degree and looking to conquer the world.

Mr. Undersee’s generosity didn’t stop there.

Located in downtown Charleston, the architecture and surrounding landscape of Undersee Corporation is gorgeous—almost a work of art in itself. Flowered pathways wind from one building to the next, and large oak trees offer shade for employees who wish to eat their lunch at the picnic tables in the sprawling central courtyard. Hedges pruned into topiary shapes decorate the outside of the glass and chrome building, and the best part of it all? The designs are ever-transforming. Potted plants both inside and outside of the building are seasonally changed. Mr. Undersee is a big fan of variety, and upgrading and maintaining the design strategy is a full-time job—a dream job for someone with a degree in urban forestry.


Though I’ve only had the position for six months, I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I never thought I’d be one of those people who are lucky enough to look forward to going to work every day. Who wake up in the morning with a smile on their face, anticipating what the world has in store for them.

Of course, my job isn’t the only thing that puts a smile on my face in the morning.

I glance to my left and smile at Finnick, who’s holding my hand tightly in his own and staring at Madge and Gale with a glazed look. Out of the three of us, he’s probably the sappiest. I squeeze his fingers and he crushes mine back without looking at me.

When I sneak a look at Peeta, I discover he’s already studying me. I recognize the hungry spark in his eye and the wicked twist of his mouth. The way he plucks at the hair tie around his wrist, a secret code. When his tongue flicks out to swipe at his bottom lip, I shiver.

“After,” I tell him, my voice low.

He nods and turns back to face the ceremony, and we sit in comfortable silence as Madge Undersee becomes Madge Hawthorne.

Two hours later, we still haven’t found a chance to break away. The reception is simply a party for the ages. The top-shelf liquor flows like water and the sushi bar boasts exotic fish that I normally wouldn’t be able to afford on a week’s salary. The music is a mix of older, nostalgic songs and current pop anthems, and the only thing they have in common is their irresistibility when it comes to being champagne-drunk and ready to dance.

I finally leave the dance floor after waving away Gale, who claimed a dance with me when “our song” came on, something embarrassing from middle school involving the running man and a host of other corny moves. I’m sure I’ll regret it when the wedding video comes out later, but for now, I’m grinning like a lunatic and limping over to the table where my people await.

“Very nice,” Finnick drawls, patting his lap. I drop down into it and sprawl against him. “I hope you know that you’re probably going to be a viral meme now.”

“Nah,” I say, swiping a sip from his glass of water. I brush away a piece of damp hair escaping from my elaborate up-do and shrug. “I’ll leave the online fame to you guys.”

Finnick bites my neck. “You say that until I release our sex tape,” he rumbles.

“Get a room, you guys!” Enobaria calls out, pointing at us from the dance floor. Glimmer whirls around from where she’s pressed against her girlfriend and glares at us.

“Y’all are animals,” she sniffs. Her sly smile is a direct contrast to her snippy tone.

“Like you can talk,” I retort, but there’s no heat behind my words. It took almost a year, but Eno and Glimmer are finally exclusive. The boys and I have a bet on whether they’ll move in together within the next few months.

My money is on yes.

But maybe that’s just the romantic in me. When you’re happy and in love, you can’t help but wish for the same for the world around you—colors are brighter, food is tastier, and every song on the radio is about you.

That’s not to say there aren’t bad days. Moving in with Finnick and Peeta was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, but it was definitely an adjustment. I’ve had screaming matches over leaving toilet paper rolls empty. I thought Peeta was going to choke me when I left the window open and a leaf flew onto a still-drying canvas he needed for one of his art shows. Finnick threw Peeta’s wet, moldering running shoes into the trash when they sat in the hallway for a week without being washed. The cat still hides from me. 

Peeta’s family didn’t magically accept him when he started dating a girl. If anything, they’ve retreated even further. And although the online response has been fairly positive toward our relationship reveal, the world is still a cruel place to those who don’t follow societal norms. 

But overall, it’s a blessing. And together, we can handle anything. 

We’ve all found jobs in Charleston—me at the Undersee Corporation, Finnick with a small but promising company where he’s the head of marketing. Peeta works at the museum as a junior curator, happy to have found a place within the art world when the field is such a competitive place. He’s also sold a handful of paintings at a local prestigious gallery for a surprisingly tidy sum. Well, surprising to him.

Finnick and I knew he would be nothing less than a star.

Both of them still have a large social media following. They’ve even recently been on the cover of a popular young adult book series. It’s still just a side hobby for them, but the extra income is welcome, especially in an expensive city like Charleston. I know they’ll tire of it eventually, and when they do, it’ll be okay—because somehow, we’ve all become functioning adults with fulfilling jobs and healthy relationships.

Oh. And a strong, vigorous sex life.

“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” Peeta asks, raising an eyebrow. When he leans over and taps my lips, I open them obediently. He feeds me a piece of  sashimi with an expert flick of his chopsticks and I chew with pleasure.

I almost choke when Finnick’s hand slides up my thigh and disappears under my dress.

“From the state of her panties, I’d say she wants to fuck,” Finnick informs him.

Peeta leans back in his chair and carefully places his chopsticks, an onyx wedding favor with Gale and Madge Hawthorne spelled out in gold lettering on the side, back onto the plate.

“I think we can accommodate your wish,” he says, discreetly but deliberately rubbing the growing bulge in his dress slacks. A thrill of desire runs up my spine. “Shall we, ah, find a room, as Eno so helpfully suggested?”

“Yes, please,” I manage to say, standing from Finnick’s lap so suddenly that I almost knock over a champagne glass while reaching for my purse.

“Easy, baby,” Finnick murmurs. He places his hand on my lower back and guides me out of the grand reception hall. I look over my shoulder and meet Madge’s amused eyes across the marble floor. She salutes me with a little wave of her hand, the sparkling diamond on her finger winking as if it knows my carnal secret.

We hurry out of the open doorway and Peeta catches up to us a moment later. He threads his fingers through mine as we stumble down a plushly-carpeted hallway, laughing like children as we try door handles along the way. Finally one gives in and we fall into what appears to be a small conference room.

“Lock the door,” Peeta growls to Finnick, grabbing his face and giving him a deep, wet kiss. It’s a sight that will never grow old. “You,” he says between kisses, pointing my way without turning his head, “get on that table and take off those fucking panties.”

I quickly obey, panting as I hop onto the conference table, the glass cold against my thighs. I shimmy out of my underwear and shove them into my purse. I’ve only just snapped the clutch back together when Peeta appears in front of me, his hand sliding between my legs. He confident, nimble fingers glide through the wetness there and a gleam of satisfaction enters his eyes.

“You’re ready to get it, huh, Kat?” he asks, tugging down the straps of my dress with deliberate ease. He pulls down the cups of my strapless bra and frees my tits, baring them to his covetous gaze. He bends his head and takes a taut nipple into his mouth, and I moan when Finnick joins him, latching onto my other breast. I press both of their heads closer to me and thank whatever higher power above that thought well enough to grant me the love of not one but two talented, beautiful men.

Peeta draws back, his eyes glittering with desire. Then he kisses me deeply before turning to our boyfriend. 

“You take her pussy,” he tells Finnick, running a hand down the other man’s shoulder. He meets my panting stare and smiles with a twist of his lips before unbuckling his belt. It hits the hardwood floor with a harsh clank. He pulls his rapidly growing erection free of his boxers and uses some of my wetness to slicken it. “And I’m gonna take your ass.”

“Hell yes,” Finnick says, releasing my nipple with one last, soft suck. “Definitely my turn to be inside her.” He turns his head and looks at Peeta, who’s quickly rifling through my purse for the small bottle of lube we decided to bring because, I mean, wedding sex . “And I always want you inside me, baby.”

This. Is. My. Very. Favorite. Thing.

“Oh shit,” I sigh, my hands shaking as I push Finnick away and start to work the button from his slacks. I make several attempts before finally slipping it from its slot, and together we push his pants and boxers down, revealing his thick cock and toned backside. Anyone else would look ridiculous with their pants around their ankles and a raging erection below a rumpled white dress shirt and tie, but on Finnick, it could be the cover of a high fashion magazine.

“Get in me,” I demand, leaning back on my elbows. I spread my legs wide and beckon Finnick forward, opening and closing my thighs teasingly.

He pounces, falling on top of me like a ravening beast. He shoves my dress up my hips and pushes into me with one smooth thrust, a move borne from practiced ease. But there’s nothing studied about the way he grinds into me, setting a furious, ruthless pace that has me biting his shoulder to hold back my screams.

When Peeta grips Finnick’s hips a moment later and drives his cock into him, I feel it in the way that Finnick lunges even further inside of me. And then we’re a pulsing, rocking entity, my hands wrapping around Finnick and reaching all the way for Peeta, my fingers clutching at his ass as he pounds into the man between us.

“You feel so good,” Finnick says thickly, “both of you feel so goddamn good.”

Peeta stares at me as he fucks Finnick, and I completely lose it. My orgasm hits me hard and fast, and my elbows collapse beneath me as Finnick and Peeta pump above me. Finn’s face is contorted into a mask of pleasure laced with a delicious sort of pain, the rhythm of his length inside of me now dictated by Peeta’s body behind him.

“I’m gonna come,” Peeta grits out, his face damp with perspiration. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck -”

Finnick presses his forehead to mine, still using my body with brutal, rough strokes. “Me too…god, Kat. Squeeze me like that again.”

I comply and he shoots his release inside of me a moment later. He collapses on top of me, and Peeta follows in a few short thrusts, shouting into Finnick’s back.

“Well,” I say, my voice muffled beneath Finnick’s shoulder. “That was fun. But I gotta breathe now, honey.”

“I’m sorry,” Finnick says, laughing as he and Peeta lift away from me. He touches my face tenderly and kisses my lips. “You’re a mess,” he whispers into my mouth.

“You’re not any better,” Peeta says, peering at the back of Finnick. “We need to clean up and get out of here. There’s probably a limit to Mr. Undersee’s kindness. I don’t want to be caught ejaculating all over his daughter’s wedding venue.”

“Classy,” Finnick replies. He takes it upon himself to reach into my purse and pull out a few Kleenexes. We help each other tidy up as best as possible and quickly fix our clothes.

“How do we look?” I ask after adjusting my dress.

“Freshly fucked,” Peeta says cheerfully. He pulls me by the shoulders and kisses me. “But gorgeous.”

“We always are.” Finnick adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves and gives us a breathtaking smile. “Ready to make our grand entrance?” He and Peeta offer me their arms, and I accept.


I’m prepared for anything with these two at my side. And as we walk back into the hallway and pass a woman who throws me an envious look, I just smile, because I know what I have.

It’s everything.