Page 130 of Exposing Colorado

When we break apart, lips swollen and breathless, he looks at me in awe. “So we’re really doing this, then?”

“We’re really doing this.”

A grin spreads across his cheeks so wide that I nearly fall into it. “Guess I'd better book a honeymoon for real this time.”

“Please don't,” I groan, burying my face in his chest. “I just traveled the world. I'm totally cool spending a week in my own bed catching up on trash TV.”

“Or we could go to Vegas for old time’s sake?”

I snort and playfully shove him toward the door. “Hard pass. Now let's get back to your boyfriend before he thinks we've ditched him for marital bliss.”

Logan just chuckles, tugging me inside. We round the corner to spot Owen still at the table, scrolling on his phone while Closure by Dommin plays throughout the bar.

He arches a brow in amusement when he sees us. “Let me guess. You’re keeping her?”

Logan squeezes my fingers tightly. “Forever this time.”

“Then I hope you two are ready for one hell of a weird, wonderful life because I’m not going anywhere either.”

“Wouldn't have it any other way,” I add, slipping into the booth with my husband and his boyfriend.

Conversation flows effortlessly between the three of us, all teasing jabs and real laughter that brings tears to my eyes. Logan leans into me while Owen keeps one hand confidently on his thigh. There’s no jealousy, no discomfort—just warmth.

Just us, together and in love.

Others might not understand it, and that's okay. Love doesn’t have to follow societal norms to make sense. It just has to be true.

My fingers drift down to the camera hanging from my neck out of habit, curling around the worn leather strap.

Owen's mid-laugh, and Logan glances sideways with that crooked grin I’ve grown to love. They're both wrapped in each other's arms.

I could take the shot. The lighting is perfect. It would definitely make a pretty picture.

But I let the camera fall, untouched. Not because this moment isn’t worth capturing, but because it is. It’s messy and unconventional and strange as hell, but no less real. Some moments are too sacred to be viewed through a lens.

So instead of freezing it in time, I close my eyes—just once—and let this one live exactly where it belongs: in real life, authentic, unaltered by digital hands. Not stored in pixels or in prints, but in my heart.

And that’s the frame of mind I plan to keep.

The End

Flip the page for the prologue in Devon and Christian’s story…

TW: Drug use, sex work

Prologue

Devon

I’m sorry.

Darkness clouds the edges of my vision, the screen in front of me blurring. My thumb hovers for just a second, then I type out another message.

Please, hotshot. Talk to me. I’m fucking drowning.

Still nothing. No bubbles, no reply. Nothing but the text thread of my own fuck-ups staring back at me as they’ve done for ten months now.

If he saw me now, he’d hate me for this.