Preston chuckles.
Liam too. "You have no idea what you're in for, kid." He raises his glass.
"To your last night dealing with Liam's bullshit," Simon offers.
Liam shoots him a fuck you look, then he toasts, smiles, sips. "Refreshing."
"How do you drink those?" Harrison asks.
"They're good. Strong. Stronger than brandy." He motions to Harrison and Preston's matching glasses. "You sure you don't want to come, Preston? This is fun for all ages."
"Children?" Preston.
"Maybe. Maybe not." Liam mimes zipping his lips.
"You should come, Dad," Harrison says. "Keep an eye on Liam."
"I'm afraid I'm relinquishing that duty for the night." He smiles at his son. "It will be practice for when you have kids of your own."
"Was he always this difficult?" Harrison asks.
Simon actually chuckles. "Worse. But I'll keep him in check tonight."
Liam shoots Simon a fuck off. It's not his usual fuck off. There's something between the two of them. But no one else seems to notice.
They shift into banter, finish their round, wish me and Preston good night.
I stand to say goodbye to Liam. "Are you okay?"
"Just Simon being an asshole." His frustration disappears as he brushes my hair behind my ear. "You look so fucking beautiful tonight, baby."
"Thanks." My cheeks flush. "You look handsome too."
He runs his fingers over my chin. "Will you be okay with Preston?"
"What?"
"He wants to have dinner with you."
"I thought—"
"I know. Will you?"
The two of us? Alone? Again?
I barely survived last time.
But there's something in the way Liam looks at me. A promise I have to answer. "I'll do my best."
"You'll be perfect."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Liam
The elevator is slow. This is a new building. How is the elevator this fucking slow?
Simon regales Harrison with a story about Lee. An old one, from his days dating her sister.
Finally, we arrive, walk through the lobby, find the limo outside.
Harrison's best friend, Jimmy, pops out of the moon roof. Right on cue, he yells, "Wooh," and pops a bottle of champagne.
Foam spills over the sides. The man might as well scream look at me, I'm coming. He's as obnoxious as I am. Or as I was, five, six, ten years ago.
I'm an idiot, sure, but I'm not desperate to party. He spent the last three years bragging about banging escorts. It's so efficient, Liam. You don't get it. No complications. No worrying they'll work for a competitor. No promises of cuddles after.
The girl comes to my office and blows me right there. Then she leaves.
It's the perfect relationship.
She wants to stay, sure. She adores me. But I don't have time for that.
Last year, he "graduated" to sleeping with sugar babies.
Now, he brags about the tuition he pays for his college girlfriend. And the apartment he bought for her. It's nice. In her neighborhood. So they won't run into each other by accident.
And she's Asian, so no one ever wonders if I'm her dad.
I feel an intense need to text Briar. To head back upstairs, drag her down here, beg her to save me from this pointless expression of masculinity.
Harrison doesn't want to mourn his lack of future pussy.
Jimmy doesn't want to keep it low key.
Simon doesn't want to tell me shit.
All we need is Adam teleporting from the mansion, exuding social anxiety and an intense lack of desire to touch dancers, and we'll really have a party.
How can guys with access to anything they want be such a miserable time?
"Last time you'll have the chance for that." I try to step into my role, but I'm not feeling it.
I want to take Briar home.
I want to fuck her senseless then hold her all night.
Sex.
It's still the only thing that makes sense.
Only it's more than that. Her laugh and her smile and her groan and her joy.
What would she say about Jimmy?
I wait until we're in the limo, and Jimmy is bragging about how he knows all the best strip clubs, and the strippers really do like him too, they don't just pretend, then I pull out my cell.
I text Briar.
Liam: How long until Jimmy brings up his sugar baby? Five minutes? Or less?
Briar: I'm having dinner with your surrogate father.
Liam: And?
Briar: It's rude to stop to text.
Liam: Then why are you doing it?
Briar: I'm in the bathroom.
Liam: And I'm rude?
Briar: Am I supposed to wait to pee now?
Liam: You can come.
Briar: In the bathroom? I'll pass.
Liam: To the party. I'll hold the limo.
Briar: And give Harrison that lap dance he's dreaming about? I don't think so.
Liam: What if you give me the lap dance I've been dreaming about?
Briar: Have you?
Liam: It entered my mind.
Briar: I'll think about it.
Liam: Really?
Briar: I said think. Not do. What's in it for me?
Liam: Me fucking you senseless.
Briar: Strong case.
Liam: I can reserve a private room.
Briar: Covered in creepy dudes' jizz? No thanks.
Liam: I love that you said that.
Briar: It's true. Are you actually going to a strip club?