Tempted Heir (The Heirs 7)

Worried, I ask, “You think it would be awkward? Why?”

Glancing over her shoulder at me, she widens her eyes. “Seriously? You know why? One look at my bra was enough to send you running.”

“That was once, and I was caught off guard,” I argue. “Have you ever thought about it?”

I get up, and it has Dash turning so she can face me as she asks, “What? Sex with you?”

“Yes,” I murmur as I walk toward her.

Her eyebrows pop up before she glances away from me. “When I was a teenager. Maybe.”

That’s something I can work with.

“And?” I ask.

“What do you mean and?” she mutters, an uncomfortable look settling on her face.

“Was it awkward thinking about it?” I ask, needing to know if she’s repulsed by the idea or not.

“Are you really asking me this right now?” she gasps, then she throws the question back at me. “Have you thought about it?”

“Of course, and I was fine with it,” I answer honestly as I stop in front of her.

Her mouth opens and closes a couple of times, and then she takes a sharp breath. “Are we really having this conversation?”

“We are,” I state, figuring it’s now or never. “Think about it, Dash. Everything you said was the truth. We’re fucked. Either we get married, or our friendship will have to take a back seat to whoever we choose to date.”

“We’re fucked,” she mutters before taking a sip of her wine.

“I’ll never be able to not be your best friend. It’s not a possibility to me,” I admit the truth.

“Same here,” Dash agrees. Lifting her eyes to mine, she asks, “So what do we do?”

We can work as a couple. Dash is drop-dead gorgeous, brilliant, funny, loyal, and the attraction is there from my side.

“Let’s think about it,” I answer her, even though I’ve made up my mind. But it’s not just up to me. “Would it be the worst thing for us to get married?”

Dash stares at me for a while, then she says, “No, I guess not.” She steps around me and heading to the kitchen, she fills her wine glass again.

Slowly, she walks back to me.

“You said you thought about sex with me. Was it awkward?” I ask again. Being direct is the only way through this.

Dash drinks half the damn glass of wine before I reach for it. I set the glass down on the coffee table then turn back to her.

She looks uncomfortable as fuck, making me worry even more. I expect to hear a yes from her, but then she mumbles, “No.”

It takes a couple of seconds for her answer to sink in. “It wasn’t awkward?” I ask to make sure I heard right.

“No, it wasn’t,” she says as she lets out a defeated sigh. “But it was years ago.”

The corner of my mouth curves up. “It’s something we can work with.” Knowing Dash needs time to get used to the idea, I say, “Let’s take a week to think about it. Next weekend we can talk again and figure out where to go from here.”

She nods, and as she meets my gaze, she says, “I’m just worried it will affect our friendship. What if we do this and one of us ends up wanting more than the other is willing to offer?”

I stare at her for a couple of seconds, wondering if she’s talking about herself or me. “More? In what way?”

She lets out a sigh, and her shoulders slump. “I might have given up on dating, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want it all. What if I want romance, dates, being swept off my feet?”

I lock eyes with her. “Then I’ll give it to you.”

Dash’s lips part, and I watch surprise flutter over her features. “Just like that?”

Needing her to hear every word I say, I lift my hands to the sides of her neck and step closer to her. “Dash, you’re perfect. You get me like no other. We fit.”

“What happens if we agree to do this? How do we go from being best friends to being… romantic?” She lets out a burst of nervous laughter.

That’s a whole different topic. I held back with my previous relationships because… honestly, I just didn’t feel it with any of them.

But with Dash, I won’t be able to hold back.

Letting go of her, I murmur, “If we agree to this, we commit fully. There’s no breaking up, no getting divorced.”

I wait for her to nod. “You know how I feel about that, so we’re on the same page.”

I stare at Dash, taking in how fucking beautiful she is. I remember how hard I got just from seeing her in her bra. There’s no way I’ll be able to take it slow.

Fuck, here goes nothing.

“If we agree to cross the line, I won’t be able to hold back,” I warn her.