Playboy Prince

He's always been a die-hard romantic. Always wanted to find the one. Something about his parents' divorce. His need to prove he was different than his dad.

At the end of the day, we're all the same: rich assholes trying to prove we're doing better than our parents.

Only he's about to lose his dad.

I'm losing my father figure, yeah, but he's losing his actual father.

He's losing his father and I can't let on.

"You haven't been here in years," he says. "Why are you having brunch with Dad?"

"I was here Friday," I say. "For your party."

"I don't mean parties." He pulls open the bottom drawer. Finds an ancient bottle of Maker's Mark. "This is from college."

"Aged."

"It stops aging when you open it." He sets the bottle on the desk. Motions go ahead.

"How about a glass?"

"What are you doing here, Liam?"

"Your dad invited me."

He stares at me. It's not quite Simon level of suspicion, but it's a lot.

"I know Lee is a blonde, but is that your preference for the party? Might be more fun to have a taste of what you'll never have again," I say.

"Liam."

"I can't plan my buddy's party now?"

He folds his arms. "Aren't strippers a little obvious for you?"

"There's a twist."

He rolls his eyes.

"I can't tell you. It will ruin the surprise."

"If you're not going to tell me why you're here—"

I have to say something. "Two reasons."

He motions go on.

"You want the good news or the bad news?"

"You know the answer to that."

I do. He's a bad news first kinda guy. But, hey, might as well give him a choice? Maybe he's in a mood.

No, he is in a mood.

An I don't want to deal with Liam on top of whatever is going on with my father mood.

Preston is obviously fading. I can see it. Even Briar can see it. She looked at him with concern the second she saw him. Maybe it was I want this guy to approve of me concern, but since when does Briar give a shit about anyone approving of her?

I need to distract Harrison.

Thank fuck this is my wheelhouse.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I ask. "Accepting the invite to the house?"

"I can't say no," he says.

"You can tell your fiancée to ask her sister to stay home," I say.

"Really? I can tell my bride to ask the maid of honor to skip the rehearsal dinner?"

"It's your wedding. You can do whatever you want."

"Is this about Simon and Vanessa?"

"No shit."

He doesn't buy it. "It's been a long time. He's over it."

"Uh-huh."

"I asked him," he says.

"He's got no self-awareness."

"They're high school rivals, not sworn enemies," Harrison says. "Maybe you should treat him like an adult. An adult who can spend time with someone he dislikes without causing a scene."

"Maybe you should meet Simon."

"He's not—"

"He is." I wasn't going to make this argument. Harrison is right. This won't upstage the wedding. Simon and Vanessa are rivals, sure, but she's as stoic as he is. Even if she does find him as annoying as I do, she won't say shit. He'll stare like he wants to fuck her—and he really does—but he'll keep it to himself. There's no reason to fret. They see each other at holidays and events and stay civil. But I need to pretend I care if I want to convince him I'm here for a reason. "We can change the bachelor party. Take the whole weekend."

"We can?"

"Yeah. Let the ladies party at the Pierce place."

"Adam is the one who invited us," he says.

"Adam can stay."

Harrison shoots me a really look.

Yeah, pointless argument. But I have to put up a fight or he won't believe this is why I'm here. "Think about it. Think about how whatever shit goes down between Simon and Vanessa is going to snowball and explode at your wedding. How is Lee going to feel about that?"

"Will you drop it if I promise to think about it?"

"Yeah. But if you think about it, you'll see I'm right."

He folds his arms, not buying my shit.

He doesn't think I'm right. But he thinks I'm here to convince him.

"What's the good news?" he asks.

"You're gonna want to sit down." I motion to the bed. "Trust me."

"It's good news."

"Do you trust me?"

"As far as I can throw you."

"You work out. That's gotta be a few feet."

A chuckle breaks his frown. "All right." He sits. Motions go on.

"Me and Bri. We're engaged."

His eyes go wide. "No."

"Yeah."

"Since when?"

"Not long."

"Dad knows?"

I nod.

"You said you weren't sleeping with her," he says.

"I wasn't. The first time you asked."

"For how long?"

"Five months."

"You went five months without bragging about sex?"

"It shocked me too."

He chuckles. "That can't be right. At the charity gala last month—"

"I was there with her." That is true.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"She wanted to keep it on the down low."

"I'd be embarrassed to sleep with you too."