It doesn't matter. This is pretend. He might want me. I certainly want him.
But we're not crossing the line.
So it doesn't matter whether or not he spent the last five months dreaming about my lips—
Falling asleep thinking about the feel of my skin—
And it doesn't matter that I'm desperate to kiss him again. That I want to climb into his lap and tear his clothes off and feel every inch of him against every inch of me.
"I tried," he says. "Believe me, I tried. I was in the utility closet with this babe at a conference. She was on her fucking knees about to unzip me, but I couldn't—"
"Liam, if I may offer some fatherly advice," Preston interrupts.
Liam snaps out of his trance. Slips into his usual aloof role. "Shoot."
"I understand your generation is more modern in your attitudes about sex," he says. "If I'm wrong, correct me."
Oh Lord.
"But I imagine your fiancée doesn't want to hear about your encounters with another woman in lurid detail." Preston turns to me. "Or is it some sort of kink?"
My entire face flames.
"What do people call it? Cuckolding?" Preston asks.
Liam's eyes meet mine. He raises a brow.
Somehow, my blush deepens.
Liam chuckles. "Cuckolding is the other way. Man who gets off on his woman with another man."
"Ah." Preston nods.
"Not sure there's a name for this one," Liam says. "Have had a few women ask for it though."
"Was Briar one of them?" Preston asks.
Liam notices my blush. Smiles, charmed and victorious. "No."
"Then stop while you're behind," Preston says.
"This is why I need you. Smart advice," Liam says. "I never know when to shut up."
"I'll second that," I say.
Preston chuckles. "We're weak, aren't we?" He sips his coffee. "Men who have everything throw it all away for sex."
"Not me." Liam turns to me. "Only love."
"Is that right?" I ask.
"Yeah. Never crossed the line before." He holds up four fingers. "Scout's honor."
"Do you trust him?" Preston asks.
"To be faithful?" I swallow hard. Liam is loyal to me, yes, but it's a different kind of loyalty. "I do."
"I know what matters," Liam says.
"I'm not sure fidelity earns you bragging rights, son," Preston says.
"Five months is a long time for me. Five months without a fuck. Can't I brag about that?" He looks to Preston. "It was before we were together." Something drips into his voice.
He means it.
Or I'm imagining things.
I'm out of my mind. My blood is in my cheeks. My sense of embarrassment is draining my reasoning abilities.
"It doesn't appear to impress your fiancée," Preston says.
"Fuck. I guess whipping it out is off the table, huh?" He looks to me. Raises a brow. "Proving I know how to satisfy."
"Please don't," I say.
He smiles. "I can wait."
"You still haven't told me"—Preston looks to me—"how Liam won you over."
"I, uh… I need some strength after that assault on my, uh…" Something.
Preston motions go ahead.
I cut a slice of French toast. Mmm. Warm, eggy bread. Rich maple syrup. Fresh strawberries. "This is really great. Thank you."
"French toast is Liam's favorite," he says.
"It is? I never see you order it," I say.
"Not appropriate for morning meetings," he says.
"It was a Pierce family tradition. Every Sunday," Preston says. "I took it over after Liam's father passed. I hope you two will continue it once you marry."
Liam's eye corners turn down.
That thing that's weighing on him? Or his father's death?
I have no idea, but I know I want to soothe him. I want to wrap my arms around him, hold him close, whisper it's going to be okay in his ear.
But I can't promise that.
I have no idea if it's going to be okay. And I hate empty promises.
What can I say that's true? I don't know anymore. I care about Liam. I have for a long time. But where does it end? I don't love him. Not the way Preston thinks I do.
As a friend, maybe.
And I want him. I really, really want to ride him until we're both spent and sweaty.
But, I, uh…
"Bri sleeps in," Liam says. "We don't do a lot of weekend breakfasts."
"You're always at the gym when I wake up." Or just back from the gym. The one time I slept over. But, hey, that does fit the definition of always. "And I need to catch up on sleep. My difficult boss never lets me have any rest."
"Not for long," he says.
"Oh? You won't be working together any longer?" Preston asks.
"We will. But as partners," I say. "Liam is funding my start-up."
"That's wonderful." He smiles. "The two of you are going to create a splash."
"Oh?" I ask.
He nods. "You'll be on the cover of Forbes."
"I think he means Page Six," Liam says.
"The Playboy Prince Finally Finds His Princess," I say. "I see that."
"Playboy Prince?" Liam asks.
"You haven't seen it in the tabloids?" I ask.
"Of course." He sips his coffee. "Didn't know you had."