by Piper Lawson
3
I’m lying on my back, the water lapping around my ears and the sun warming my body, when a shadow falls over me. I blink my eyes open and right myself, frowning as I look back over one shoulder toward the living room.
No more heads of the lawyers poking above the sleek minimalist furniture.
I turn back to the view, the carefully designed illusion that the pool edge hangs off the Hollywood Hills and looks down on the valley of West Hollywood. But it’s not the view that has me hypnotized. It’s the man standing at the top of the carved steps at one end of the pool.
He’s tall and strong, every part of him built with intention, from his carved torso and arms to his lean hips and the perfect ass I can’t see from here but could draw from memory.
From fifteen feet away, he feels my blatant perusal.
He expects it.
“Lawyers left for nap time?” I call.
Tyler strips off his shirt in a single movement.
His body is art. A canvas of lean muscle and tattoos I know as well as I know any part of my own body.
His attention is on me, as if the view, the house, the pool, all mean nothing. He walks down the steps into the pool, the water soaking his jeans. He doesn’t look down once, not when it claims his waistband, licks at his abs.
My thighs clench under the water.
I should tell him he’s getting wet, that we’re not cool after what went down inside, but I’m riveted by the look in his eyes.
I can’t do anything but let the water ripple around me, the hairs lifting on my arms and neck as he approaches, my nipples pebbling just above the water level. My heart hammers at his closeness, my palm flattening against the heated skin of his chest.
He frowns. “Where’s your ring?”
I nod toward the side of the pool. I didn’t want to lose it, to have the pool chemicals affect it. It’s there along with my necklace and the promise ring he got me before we split up for his tour.
Tyler wades across the pool to retrieve both.
My breath catches as he reaches for my hand beneath the water. He doesn’t lift it out, just slips the diamond ring over my fingertip. The metal and his touch are whisper-light along my skin, a sexy, possessive slide that ends in firm pressure as the band slides home.
He murmurs in my ear, “You’re mine.”
“You think I need a ring to remember that?” I tease.
“No. You remembered it every time we hung up on a video call this past month. Every time I told you what I’d do to you if we were together. But it’s not the same.” He wraps the necklace around my neck and uses it to tug me forward until our lips are almost touching.
A thrill works through me.
I’m mad at him. He knows it, but it’s harder when he’s this close.
I force a shrug. “Your billboard in Times Square kept me company.”
The crinkling at the corners of his eyes cracks my resolve. His thumb brushing my lips doesn’t help either.
“Too bad.” His beautiful voice breaks. “Because I fucking missed you, Annie Jamieson.”
His arms band around me as he crushes my body to his.
Yes.
Tyler’s mouth is hard and demanding, as if everything he’s owed is on the other side of my lips and he won’t stop until he’s claimed it all.
The broken prince I fell for, the relentless man he became, they twine together. I belong to both of them, both of him.
The dirty thoughts that’ve been taking me over since I woke up this morning. Every part of me cries out for this, for him.
My back hits the side of the pool, and I suck in a surprised breath. I didn’t know we were moving. I was focused on his cedar scent sending me reeling, the possessiveness of his mouth slanting over mine, the hard denim of his jeans abrading my stomach and thighs.
Tyler lifts me up on the edge of the pool, breaking our kiss to stare at me with wide pupils under a thick fringe of lashes.
He drags my hips to the edge, and I fall back on my hands. My core—wet from his touch, not the water—presses against his abs, separated from him only by the thin fabric of my bikini bottoms.
“I know what you’re trying to do,” I manage. “Make me forgive you with sex.”
His slow grin could steal hearts and panties at once. “Is it working?”
I loop my arms around his neck, feathering his hair as I look down. “Tyler, I’m serious. I don’t even know where to start.”
“My jeans are wet. You could start with those.”
I slap a hand against his shoulder. “Dammit. I wanted you. I thought I’d walk in and everything would be good and…”
His jaw works, guilt flaring behind his dark eyes. “I’m sorry, Six. I hoped it would be done by the time you got here. Now, I could spend the next hour telling my future wife I fucked up, or I could show her how much I missed her in the little time we have before your dad and Haley and the kids arrive tomorrow.”
His hot, purposeful mouth travels down my neck, lingering along my collarbone, where he knows it makes me shiver, and sends a tendril of heat straight to my core.
I’m so entranced by his words I almost forget. “Half an hour.”
“Hmm?”
“I promised I’d meet Beck this afternoon. He said he had a surprise.”
“Fuck Beck.”
“He’s your best friend,” I remind him.
Tyler eliminates every millimeter of space between us, pressing his tight abs against my heat and inviting me to rub on him as his mouth moves lower. “If he keeps you away, the man is dead to me.”
He massages my breast with his hand, lifting it so his tongue skims along the edge of one cup.
He’s not holding me against him anymore, but I couldn’t move away if I tried. I’m already on fire when he lifts my breast out of the top and sucks on an already-peaked nipple, sending a bolt of need through me.
I yank on his hair hard enough it should hurt. He doesn’t make a sound, just touches me, licks me, grazes his teeth over my sensitive skin until I’m reduced to a pile of wanting.
Out of nowhere, I remember New Year’s Eve. We spent it apart but on a video call, each of us retreating to the roof so we could stare at the same sky.
“Your memory will keep me warm until you’re back,” I told him.
“I’ve never left. My heart is with you.”
We talked for hours, wishing for time, for space. For this moment.
I swallow, fighting the wave of emotion in my chest. I don’t want some quickie in the few minutes we have. But it’s all I’m going to get.
He yanks on the string at the side of my bikini, and the fabric gives way, baring me to his view.
With a knowing look, he moves down my body. “What’s that smile?” His mouth vibrates against my skin in a way that makes me tremble.
“Rae said to leave a sock on the front door.”
“We’re not in college anymore,” he reminds me. As if I need a reminder he’s not the boy I grew up with, but a man. “This is my house, and I will fuck my fiancée until she screams. I don’t care who hears.”
I’m breathless even before his tongue paints a line down my wet slit.
My fingers dig into his hair and the sight before me steals not only my oxygen, but my need for it.
The skyline of Hollywood, Sunset, and the surrounding streets, stretching to the ocean.
My rebel prince. His hand—the one dark with ink, with roses and swirls—traces up the inside of my thigh, higher and higher, as he devours me.
Heat rolls over me in a consuming wave. It’s not the sun or the balmy air, but Tyler’s relentless mouth lighting fires in every nerve.
I want to take this slowly, but I’m too overwhelmed. My heart and my body feed off each other, off him, and when he sucks right above where his fingers are playing, I break apart like a wave on the shore.
It’s not enough. Nowhere near.
When I come down from the climax, I shift forward, reaching for the butto
n on his jeans.
But Tyler bats my hand away.
“Later.” His raspy voice is a promise. “We have plans after you’re done with my ex-best friend.”
“You want me to wait,” I echo, already aware of the emptiness between my thighs now that his fingers have gone.
A smile ghosts across his face as he reaches for the strings on my bikini bottoms, fastening one side, then the other.
“This pout.” His lips brush over mine, and I can taste myself on his tongue. “I forgot how much I missed it.”
“You could reacquaint yourself with it now.” It’s shameless. I don’t even care. In fact, I think I’ve won when he traces the outline of my mouth with a calloused fingertip.
“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, the eyes I love burning with arousal and cockiness. “I will fuck every inch of this. And you.”
He hauls himself out of the water, leaving me gawking at his dripping body.
I’m already thinking about begging him to come back and finish what we started when the phone alarm goes off.
4
As I slide out of the car, I stare at the text I fired off to my stepmom on the way to the club.
Annie: Tyler and Dad are buying Wicked? WTF???
Deciding it’s a little harsh, I add one more.
Annie: Safe travels from Dallas tomorrow. Can’t wait to see you all.
I pocket the phone and trip into the back entrance of BLUE, shoving aside the million questions that feel as if they can’t wait until Haley and my dad arrive tomorrow.
I come face-to-face with a shark.
It takes a moment to realize it’s mounted on the wall.
“Watch out, Manatee,” comes a familiar voice from the dark hallway to the left. “It’s gonna eat you.”
I turn to see one of my favorite people.
Beck looks effortlessly at ease in a button-down shirt that clings to his body, shoulders and chest made more defined from workouts with his Hollywood trainer for his new TV show. His dark hair and lean, smiling face are the same.
He holds out his arms, and I dive into them.
“Tell me you haven’t turned into a douche since I last saw you,” I murmur into his shoulder before pulling back.
“Why would you say that?”
I tap a finger against my lips. “Because your show is number two on the biggest streaming service? But mostly because those are some douchey Prada shades.”
He shrugs. “People send me clothes. Legally, I have to wear clothes to go out in public. Win-win.”
I grin as I follow him down the hall and into the club.
“This place is incredible,” I call, my voice bouncing off the walls designed to optimize sound. “Why did you want to meet here?”
“Free drinks.”
I think he’s joking.
BLUE is ocean themed—not like a kids’ aquarium, but like some yacht fantasy come to life. Rae came down early to check out the setup with the sound engineer, so we decided to have our meeting here because it’s closed and private with room to spread out.
“In that case, a soda would be great.”
Beck crosses to the bar and talks to the bartender—maybe a little longer than necessary—but when I look, the bartender’s the one leaning over the surface, eyes bright with interest.
Rae’s already sitting at one of the booths, on the phone. She holds it up, and Elle waves at me from the screen.
“Surprise! Sorry I’m not there in person,” Elle says. “I will be in a couple of days.”
“Are you kidding? I’m so glad you guys are all coming. We both are,” I amend.
Beck pries himself away from the bartender and returns with drinks for us. “Where is Tyler?”
“Working,” I tell them, struggling to leave the disbelief out of my voice. “So, what’s with the ambush?”
Beck and Rae exchange a look, but it’s Beck who speaks. “First, remind me what you guys have planned for the next week.”
I shift forward, wary but excited to talk about anything wedding related. “Well, I knew it would be hard for everyone to get the time, given our schedules, so I wanted to make it special. To show everyone how much it means that you’re all coming and part of our lives.”
I open my list of items on my phone. “Dad and Haley, plus Sophie and Mason, are coming here tomorrow, then we’ll all fly from LA together on the charter Wednesday. A few other people, including Pen—who’s covering a concert in Tokyo—are coming in later.
“The wedding is Saturday with the rehearsal at sunset on the beach the night before. Thursday and Friday, I have a few things planned… No known allergies? No crazy phobias?”
“No foursomes. It’s in my new contract,” Beck says, apologetic.
Rae presses her lips together to keep from laughing. “I’m sure Annie will keep that in mind.”
“Speaking of wedding events, thanks for not making us wear matching powder-puff dresses,” Elle says.
Beck shakes his head. “I still can’t believe you’re shunning the time-honored tradition of dressing your friends in shrouds so you look hotter. It’s bad karma.”
I laugh as he straightens in his seat.
“So listen. I know you said there wasn’t going to be a wedding party.”
“Right.” I didn’t want them to have to do any extra work, and it was simpler to organize things myself.
“But”—he spreads his hands—“we’re going to have one.”
I frown into my drink. “One what?”
“A wedding party.” Beck’s eyes gleam. “Elle and Rae figured I should tell you, though I wanted to keep it a surprise longer. The day after tomorrow, I’m hosting an epic event for all the people not cool enough to get an invite to the knot-tying.”
My pulse picks up. “Beck, we’re not having a party this week.” I swallow as I think of the logistics—dress fittings, calls with the officiant, packing, and now this business deal of Tyler and my dad’s. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s thoughtful of you. But you don’t need to lift a finger.”
“Oh.” He offers a charming grin. “The fingers have already been lifted.”
A man with cables wrapped around one shoulder crosses to our booth, looking apologetic. “Can I get your eyes on something?” he asks Rae.
She hands me the phone with Elle, leaving me with a phone in each hand. Then she shifts out of the booth by standing on the seat and swinging both legs out to drop off the other side.
“I appreciate the thought, but…” I try to think of the best way to say that even though I’m touched, we simply don’t have time. “I’m not sure everyone will be able to make a party at the last minute.”
He waves. “Everyone already knows except you, Manatee.” He cocks his head, glancing back at the walls. “Do sharks eat manatees? Anyway, whatever’s on this little list”—he lifts the phone from my hand and surveys it while I stretch across the table, trying to snatch it back—“you’re gonna clear it for two nights from now.”
“Annie? Take a breath. You’re turning purple,” Elle advises from the phone. “Now, I have to go if I’m going to see you in person for the party.” She blows a kiss and clicks off.
I’m still numb when Rae returns, leaning over the back of the booth.
“We good?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say and try to mean it as I shift out of my seat.
Beck stands as well. “Your folks get in tomorrow, right? When was the last time you saw them?”
“This winter,” I admit.
“It’ll be good to catch up.”
“It’ll be something,” I say, thinking of the text I sent Haley as my stomach knots all over again.
When we reach the door, Beck squeezes my shoulder. “Hey. I know you’re a Jamieson by blood. But you know who your real family is, don’t you?”
I huff out a breath. “Yeah.”
“Fuck anyone who messes with you,” he calls after me. “Including Ty. You’ve got us. Right, Rae?”
“Go Avengers.”
Her deadpan has my mouth twitching.
“Thank you, guys.”
Their love carries me all the way to my car, until I check my phone to find a group text to me, Tyler, and Dad.
Haley: Family meeting tomorrow morning.
5
When Tyler said he was taking me to dinner, I had no idea what to expect—or what to wear. He refused to tell me, and knowing him, it could be a corner table at the hottest place in town or something simple.
I walk downstairs and see him on his phone, pacing in the living room. I take a second to admire him in his navy shirt and dark pants.
He turns, and his entire expression warms as he takes in my gold cocktail dress and heels.
“Yeah. We’ll talk later.”
The phone disappears into his pocket, and a grin stretches across his face.
“You know the first time I realized how beautiful you are?” he murmurs as I take the final few steps. He rounds the couch to meet me, stopping a foot away. “Your dad and Haley’s wedding. I saw you walking down the aisle, and my chest cracked in two. Because I knew I could never be your friend the way I had been, the way I swore to myself and your dad that I would be.”
My throat is thick with emotion. “How do you know just what to say to wreck me?”
He brushes a thumb down my cheek. “I don’t want to make you weak. I only ever want to make you strong.”
As the limo takes us to the restaurant, we catch up on the past few weeks. I talk to him about handing off the show for the next month, how it feels exciting and scary at once. He tells me about his tour, the anticipation and awe of such a huge production and the reluctance of departing.
“I don’t like the idea of leaving you again,” he says quietly.
“You’ll visit me, and I’ll visit you. We decided together this time. It’s different.”
I thread my fingers through his, tilting my face up for a kiss he grants me without hesitation. As the limo pulls up outside the restaurant and we step out, I take in the vintage hotel with delight.