Playboy Prince

She swallows hard. "I don't know. I haven't thought about it."

"Adam and Danielle?"

"He adores her."

"She's hot," I say.

"And he isn't?"

"I thought you didn't like the scars."

"That makes me sound awful."

"Yeah. Pretty fucked-up shit, Bri."

"I don't dislike them. I'm just not into them the way she is."

"You think that's all it is? Sex?"

"For now."

"Lee and Harrison?" I ask.

"Is that a real question?" she asks.

"Yeah. She's horrible, but he loves her."

"He does," she admits. "But… I don't know. Maybe that's all relationships. Maybe we always love how we feel with someone. Or the empty spaces they fill."

"It almost sounds romantic."

"Almost." Her fingers skim the doorframe. "What are you asking him to do? Your friend, Ian?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I'm thinking about it."

"Thinking about…"

Asking him to find out what the fuck Simon is hiding. "Just checking on Simon."

"Why don't you ask him?"

It's not a bad point. If Simon pulled this shit with me, I'd never let him hear the end of it.

But I've tried.

It's clear he's keeping secrets.

Yeah, I can't talk, but I can't keep looking the other way either.

"I'll see you at home," I say. "Yeah?"

She nods. "Danielle and I are going to get dinner after class."

"Oh."

"But after that…" Her voice softens. "It might be late, but I'll be home after that."

Relief floods my body. She's coming home.

She's not running away.

I haven't fucked things up irrevocably.

"Don't call me Mr. Pierce. Fills my head with dirty role play scenarios," I say.

She smiles. "It's your name."

"Call me sir again, I order you out of your panties. Understand?"

"I do." She takes a step backward. "Good night, Liam."

"Good night." I watch her leave.

My shoulders relax. My chest eases.

For a while, I slip into the zone. I work until I see a light turn off in the other side of the office.

Simon.

He's still hiding something.

And I still have to find out.

I text my friend.

Liam: Does your offer stand?

Then I hit the gym, run until I'm out of energy, go home, shower, fix dinner.

He doesn't reply until I'm on the couch in my pajamas.

Ian: Of course.

Liam: What does this level of intel run?

Ian: Don't be ridiculous. I'm not taking your money.

Liam: I don't want to owe you a favor.

Ian: I'll cash it now.

Liam: You already bought drinks.

Ian: Even so.

Liam: Don't tell me you want a threesome. My girl won't go for it.

Ian: I don't share.

Liam: You just want to watch?

Ian: Not if you're there.

Liam: No deal.

Ian: Isn't your brother screwing a photographer who posts pictures of the two of them having sex?

Liam: Like you don't know.

Ian: Everyone knows.

Liam: Is that the favor? You want the inside scoop?

Ian: What scoop? She's gorgeous and talented. He's thinking with his cock.

Liam: Aren't we all?

Ian: We're idiots.

Liam: I'll drink to that.

Ian: When we meet with the information.

Liam: When?

Ian: If we meet with the information.

Liam: What's the if here?

Ian: I don't know what I'll find. It might not be what you want to see.

Liam: I know.

Ian: Sleep on it. Take the night. Hell, take the week or the month if you need it. This is a line you can't uncross. Be sure you're ready to cross it.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Liam

As promised, Briar gets home late. She claims exhaustion, wishes me good night, showers, and goes to bed.

Her room stays quiet. Only the hum of the fan.

She's asleep. We're normal. Or as normal as we're going to be.

I try to find a distraction with the TV, but everything is sex and death and secrets.

It's the entire fucking world.

After a few hours, I give up, get ready for bed, fail to find sleep.

I toss and turn forever.

Until I give in to my thoughts of Briar. Her black dress rolled to her waist, her panties at her ankles, her long body bent over my desk.

My name rolling off her lips as she comes.

Is there any better sound in the entire fucking world?

The day is busy. Briar and I don't have time to discuss anything other than numbers. All morning and afternoon, we work. Finally, right when I think I'm free, my family arrives to fuck shit up.

My half-sister, Opal, rushes into my office with a smile.

Briar steps in after her. "Ms. Pierce, I don't think—"

"Oh my god, Briar! Don't call me that. It makes me feel a million years old." Opal throws her arms around me. "I can't believe you're finally engaged." She releases me. Turns to Briar. Hugs her like she'll never let go. "I always wanted you two to be together. I love seeing an idiotic man with a smart woman."

"Hey," I claim offense.

Opal ignores me. "And you're just so cool. Oh my god. Am I gushing? I think I'm gushing." She smooths her long, dark hair. "Can I buy you dinner?"

I try to delay her—"We're actually…"

"Not you, Liam. Briar." Opal presses her hands together. "Please."

"Can we do it later?" Briar asks. "I'm totally wiped."

"What if we come over?" Opal asks. "Me and Simon! I know Simon is all"—she drops her voice an octave—"grrr, I'm overprotective and mean. I won't let you have any fun, even though you're an adult woman who is attending college next year." She rolls her eyes. "He's a drag. I know he means well, but he's a serious drag."