Addiction (Bayfront Billionaires)

Tristan stroked her silky hair as he said, “Why do I sense a but coming on?”

She stared up at him for a few seconds, then her gaze shifted to Nate. She said, “You’re both going to be in Bayfront. I’m not.”

Tristan felt as though a trapdoor had just sprung open—and he’d fallen right through it.

“You’re doing another movie for Nick,” Nate guessed. “A remake of Seven Years in Tibet? Emphasis on the seven years and the in Tibet parts?”

She laughed softly, though not necessarily humorously. “Not quite. I’m not taking on any more acting roles—for a few years, at least. I’m trying something different. Something I’ve always wanted to do, but like you two, I’ve needed to work my way toward it.”

Tristan’s brow furrowed. He wracked his brain for any hint she’d given over time as to what her ultimate career goal might be, but came up empty-handed.

Nate was the one to ask. “What is it?”

“Singing. I’m going to join a band and we’re going to do a lot of shows and build up our reputation and following. Hopefully catch the attention of a record label. Or maybe we’ll indie-produce something. Nick could certainly help us with that.”

Tristan said, “I thought you lost interest in singing. You didn’t take the deal from the L.A. studio.”

“I definitely haven’t lost interest. This is exa

ctly what I want to do,” she said emphatically. “I didn’t tell you why I passed on the deal. They didn’t want my songs or even me as I am. They asked me to lop off eight inches of hair, dye it blonde, and sing breakup songs. An American Adele. And while I love her music, I don’t want to sing breakup songs. Or change my name to Olivia. It’ll always be Liv—Liv Tyner. So we walked.”

“Wow.” Nate whistled under his breath. “Totally can’t see you as a blonde Olivia.”

With a slight shake of her head, she said, “Me, either. So I started looking for a band in need of a lead singer. I’ve narrowed my search to two. But here’s the kicker—I’d excitedly chosen East Coast bands. Closer to England, you know?”

Tristan let out a sharp breath. “You’re fucking kidding.”

“Surprise,” she said with little enthusiasm.

Nate scrubbed a hand down his face. Rubbed the back of his neck.

Liv said, “I’m planning on being in New York for the next few years. While you guys are here in Bayfront. Doesn’t that just figure?”

Although Tristan did see the irony, he pointed out, “New York isn’t exactly the moon, honey.”

“Agreed.” She ground her teeth a moment, then said, “It just feels like a sign, you know? Like the three of us are only supposed to have these snippets of time together, nothing more.”

Tristan cut straight to the chase. “Do you want more? With us?”

Liv pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was silent a few seconds, collecting her thoughts before saying—with conviction—“I do. I absolutely do. The problem is, we’re always so scattered from each other. And I’m worried that it’s difficult enough to make a relationship with three people gel. Seems downright impossible if I’m not around, right?”

Chapter Nine

The question she’d posed to Nate and Tristan remained front and center in Liv’s mind the next day. They’d all needed some time to process and put more thought into what they were really getting at—what they each wanted to get at. So Liv had kissed them goodnight, left the yacht, and returned to her condo.

The evening had been spectacular and she’d loved every moment of it. Especially her alone time with Nate and Tristan. But as much as she wanted them to truly consider the facets of their involvement with one another going forward, Liv had to do the same. Determine if a polyamorous affair was something that would work for them and what impact it would have on her career, her dreams . . . and theirs.

She let all of that percolate during the day, running all sorts of scenarios and potential solutions—not to mention the notable pitfalls—through her head. Just to make sure she didn’t rush into any conclusions or decisions.

In the late afternoon, before the sun set, she slipped into a black tank-style minidress and heels and headed over to the town square. Sylvia, Seth, and Noah had planned a surprise bachelor-bachelorette party and the festivities were just getting underway, though the bride and groom weren’t yet onsite.

The square’s gazebo sparkled with a Palladian chandelier and fragrant Wisteria sinensis vines twined around the glossy white railings. The courtyard tree trunks were wrapped with twinkle lights, and intricately designed arrangements of Sterling Silver and white roses decorated the perimeter.

Sylvia greeted Liv at the main entrance to the square, giving her a quick hug and saying, “As best as I can tell, both Chloe and John are clueless as what we have planned for them this evening. The invites only went out last week and mum has been the word this whole time.”

Liv’s gaze continued to sweep over the park. There were numerous caterers up front, serving all manner of food and cocktails. Scattered across the lawns were high-top tables and sofas and chairs. There was strolling entertainment, an awning-topped cigar lounge, and full-sized gaming tables toward the back right quadrant. To the left was a grand stage and dance floor.

“This is fantastic,” Liv told her friend. “What can I do to help?”