Playboy Prince

But I'm just as scared of becoming my father, watching my partner lock me out, keep me away, abandon me emotionally.

I'm fucking it up on every fucking level.

I don't want to hurt. But the alternative is worse. Locking everyone out, hiding all my ugly parts, refusing to embrace love—

That isn't a life.

It's not the life I want.

I don't want to keep everything to myself anymore. I want to have someone there. To be there for him.

Can Liam do that?

I don't know.

But I know I have to ask. I have to try.

I promised Preston.

I sort through my thoughts as I shower, fix tea, make toast. The raspberry jam is a far cry from the fancy stuff at the Pierce manor, but it's mine, and it feels good, being in my space, taking care of myself, believing in this future where I let someone take care of me.

Maybe it's not Liam. Maybe it's someone else.

But, fuck, I really want it to be Liam.

I need to say something, do something, somehow explain.

At least, I need to find him.

I pull out my cell, but I chicken out. I text Danielle instead.

Briar: Did Liam come back to the city?

Danielle: He and Simon left early this morning.

Briar: Thanks.

Danielle: What happened?

Briar: Love is complicated.

Danielle: It is.

If he's on his way, I need to get dressed. I need to do something. I find a simple outfit. A black sundress and sandals.

My phone buzzes with a string of texts.

Danielle: He's downstairs. He asked me to say that.

Briar: How are you involved?

Danielle: Opal is texting me.

Briar: I have an audience?

Danielle: Apparently. Should I tell them to step off?

Briar: I prefer one on one.

Danielle: She says no promises.

Briar: Tell her I'll buy her a bottle of gin if she does.

Danielle: She says you're not good for it unless you stick with Liam.

Briar: Is she really doubting my word?

Danielle: Sounds like it.

There's a knock on my door.

Danielle: Shit, I think it's happening. Good luck, Briar. We're still friends, no matter what happens.

I take a deep breath. Let out a slow exhale.

Easy breaths.

Steady breaths.

It's six steps to my door.

And there's Liam, standing in the hallway, a vase in his hands.

Not any vase. One that's been broken and repaired with gold lacquer. Kintsugi.

"I know, it's cheesy." He traces a gold line. "But I figured the best presentations have a visual component."

"What about taking off your shirt?"

"That's plan B."

"No A?"

"Gotta save some of my good material."

Fuck, I miss him. How can I already miss him so badly?

"And if that doesn't work, just imagine what else I'll take out."

A laugh spills from my lips.

He smiles. "Can I come in?"

"You ask now?"

"You can say no."

"I know." I pull the door a little wider. "Come in."

He steps inside. Sets the vase on the kitchen counter. Presses his palms to his thighs, suddenly awkward. "I'm sorry I lied to you. I wanted to tell you, but Preston… fuck, that's bullshit. He asked me to keep that secret, but it wasn't just for him. It was for me too, because I couldn't say it out loud."

"You didn't want to tell me?"

"No, baby, I was desperate to tell you. It wasn't you. It was me. I didn't want to face it. I didn't want to look at it. I didn't want to look at you and see what a fucked-up mess I am. I know that's no excuse. And that's not what you want. You want it all. Everything." His eyes meet mine. "You deserve that. You deserve someone who gives you every part of himself. I want that, too. I want to be your everything."

"Liam—"

"I don't know how. I don't know if I'm any good at it, but I want to try. Briar West, I love you."

"I love you too."

"I know I'm a fucking mess. I'm still going to be a mess tomorrow. And next week. Maybe forever. I can't promise I'll figure my shit out, but I can promise to try. I can promise to love you better every fucking day."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I want to be the person you need. I want to help tape together your broken pieces."

"And to let me tape together yours?"

"Yeah. The tape thing isn't working with my vase metaphor here."

A laugh spills from my lips.

"I'm ruining the moment with this metaphor pedantry, huh?"

"No." I wrap my arms around his waist. "It's perfect."

Epilogue

Liam

I double check the mirrors. The mood lights. The music.

This is it.

My promise to Bri, to deliver on every one of her dirty fantasies.

Starting with this one.

I need to nail this.

For her.

I need to be what she needs, the one person who gets this side of her.

This is still where we make the most sense. Where I know how to fill every single one of her needs.

I make her breakfast; I fix her tea; I hold her close.

I get Bri, I do.

But I don't know what the fuck she's going to say about my offer—