by Angel Payne
Immediately, I shook my head. “Look, this—this thing we’re doing—can barely be considered a relationship—”
“In air quotes? Didn’t we just discuss this?”
“—and I guarantee there is no room for talk of love around the table.”
“Liar.”
I pressed my lips together. Any further protests and she’d see exactly how hard she’d just hit that bloody nail on the head. She’d know that Drake, Fletcher and I had practically composed a love sonnet on our own less than a week ago, our souls twined as tightly as our naked bodies.
“Damn,” Taylor muttered. “I wish Margaux were here, too. She’d be calling you on your shit so royally—”
“No,” I snapped. “She needs to stay at home!”
We both broke out in laughter. We might be disagreeing over the fine print of this conversation, but there was complete synchronicity about the force of nature known as our friend Margaux Asher—the soon-to-be Margaux Asher-Pearson. Now that she was pregnant, she’d turned into a hurricane and tsunami bundled into a sexy, glowing mom-to-be. Honestly, she scared me a little. Maybe more than that.
Taylor sobered again—all too quickly. “Well…it sure seems like love from here.”
“Well, it’s not.” I spoke the words as the conviction they were. Fine. So, the three of us still had to deal with the mess of our runaway feelings—but that would smooth now that Fletch and Drake were almost three thousand miles away again. Passions would start to mellow. Feelings would definitely fade. The leopards would reclaim their spots.
They had to.
“You know the way those guys are.” I tried to wrap it with airy dismissiveness, but, again, it resonated like bad acting. My gut twisted with that truth. Taylor’s face reflected it.
“I barely know them at all, okay?” she rejoined. “But what I do know, especially about the lifestyle they kept before…” She slanted her lips wryly while swirling the tiny puddle that was left of her drink. “Things have completely changed, my friend. The water-cooler talk has totally dried up. There used to be at least one recounting of somebody’s wild night with them every month. Since you? Nothing.” She downed the remaining beer. “They have it for you just as badly as you do them.”
Instantly, panic zapped in again. “Stop saying that.”
“Why?” she retorted. “Is it too close to the truth? And, if so, why are you pushing it away? You’re living the dream half the women in San Diego—and probably Chicago, too—dream every night. Why aren’t you yelling from Mount Soledad that those two are wrapped around your sexy little pinky? Why aren’t you—?”
“Because they went back to Chicago.” I let it lie at that. There was no good reason to go into all the conflict I had about it. How I’d not have to worry about them crashing any more princess parties, or trapping me in the corner right in front of my mother, or arranging for an Alfred special just to get more time alone with me…of how much easier the world was now.
And emptier.
And darker.
Taylor finally finished with her double-take. “What?”
“They went home.” I forced out a shrug. “Why is that so shocking? They don’t live here, T. They have lives in Chicago. Massive businesses to run. And they have an SGC board meeting at HQ.”
She blinked. Then again. “And your point is?”
I threw up my hands. Fell back in my chair. “Don’t you get it? I’m a stopover, Taylor—a fun way to pass time when they’re in San Diego. But this isn’t their home and I don’t think they have serious plans to ever change their zip code.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know them.” I studied my hands, now dropped and twisting in my lap. “It’s…intense…at the moment, with the three of us. I’ll admit that much. But it’s not forever. I’m not forever.” I swallowed back the grief from the words. It had no place here. I wasn’t a victim—I knew what I’d signed on for. “They’re used to beautiful, worldly girls falling at their feet wherever they go. I’m not worldly—and I sure as hell won’t be kissing their wingtips anytime soon. I’m just—just me.”
She playfully banged her head on the edge of the table—three times in a row for full effect. “Hell’s bells, Talia. Wake up and smell the latte, girl. Drake Newland and Fletcher Ford worship the ground you walk on. They spoiled you rotten in Vegas then hunted you down at your niece’s party, and God only knows what you’re not telling me… I am beyond confused how or why you think they aren’t into you.”
I’d laughed at her little rant but conjured up a somber look. “A leopard never changes its spots. It’s that simple.”
“It’s not that ‘simple.’” Her air quotes around the word were deliberate—and deadly serious. “It’s also unfair and close-minded—and you, my friend, are neither of those things. Who is planting this bullshit in your head? Your mother? Your judgy prude of a sister?”
“Back. Off.” It was one thing to talk disparagingly about my own family, but when someone else did it? Fighting words.
“Sorry. Sorry. I’m just fixing to jerk a knot in your stubborn tail. You have an amazing feast set on the table, honey—but you’re so worried about your diet, you can’t enjoy the meal.”
I let her grab my hand again. Even returned the pressure, letting her feel my inherent appreciation. “Maybe so,” I finally murmured, “but the indigestion may not be worth the very glorious taste on my tongue.”
“Touché.” She issued the concession softly. “But is that really any way to live? In fear of the ‘what ifs’?” She pressed her other hand atop mine. “Honey, life is going to pass you by while you’re playing it safe.” She let the comment settle into a stretch of silence before twisting her lips with unguarded curiosity. “So…it’s glorious, huh? Dammit, I knew it would be.”
I chuckled, shaking my head again. “You know I just came out of a terrible relationship, right?”
“With an asshole excuse for a man. Gavin came nowhere near the same league as Drake and Fletcher, and you know it.”
I had nothing for a comeback, except upheld hands to concede her point. Having nothing to say beyond that, I let one of those hands continue up, flagging down the waitress for another awful beer. After this conversation, the one-drink limit so did not apply anymore. Wasn’t that why they invented Uber?
“I thought you didn’t like that stuff.”
“I didn’t.” I wrinkled my nose at the aftertaste clinging to my tongue. At Taylor’s confused stare, I shrugged again. “But maybe it’s time to work outside my comfort zone.”
A victorious smile spread across her lips. “There’s my girl.”
“Ugh.” I softened that with a giggle. “Now you sound like Margaux.”
“No way. The F word would’ve been in there at least twice.”
We both laughed again, before I turned the subject to Stone Global. Since we used to work in the same division, I asked for all the office gossip—then regretted it. Much of the scoop centered around the guys and me. It was a let-down in some ways, but exhilarating in others. It was heady and surreal to hear how envied I was because of their attention—meaning I very carefully skirted any mention of the little ‘love’ exchange from the other night. If Taylor caught even a whiff of that, she’d be shopping for my wedding gown tomorrow morning and have the rest of the office planning the shower before end-of-business.
Inside two seconds, my heart rocketed from the thought.
Inside the next two, crashed back down.
Wedding gowns? Bridal showers? White lace and promises? Last time I checked, it was illegal to marry more than one person. Then there was the issue of my family. My family. So much of this stress came back to them—and, worse, I didn’t want to change that. Not a shred. Yes, they were snoopy. And opinionated. And single-minded and old-fashioned and stubborn. But they also loved me with staggering devotion and had always been there for me—yeah, even in the falling-apart months after the disaster of Gavin. So how could I throw an even more unscru
pulous situation at them? They’d feel betrayed. Alienated. Angry. Probably more.
I’d devastate them.
Then they’d devastate me.
Wasn’t going to happen. We’d always stuck together and that bond could not—would not—be replaced by amazing sex.
But…Drake and Fletcher love me.
Words. That was all. Men liked saying them, especially when ‘other’ heads besides the big one were part of the scene. The syllables rolled out, following by a miserable fail on the proof.
Once more, Gavin popped into mind. Wait. The man didn’t pop anywhere. Invaded was a better word. With the same selfish violence with which he’d sliced out a chunk of my spirit.
I physically shuddered.
“T? You okay?” Taylor gripped my forearm with as much urgency as her question. “Whoa. Maybe that second beer was a bad move. You look ready to vom.”
I shook my head. “I’m—I’m all right. It was just…unpleasant memories.”
“Well, cut that out. The past is the past. Roads that are behind you, junk that’s in the caboose.” She slid her hand back down, wrapping her fingers around mine again. “You have so much ahead of you, honey—and those two incredible men who really seem to want to take you on that journey.”
I exhaled hard. Her words washed me in huge feelings—the joy of acknowledging her comments, the anguish of letting them go. “They are…incredible,” I whispered.
“Right? So just do it, girl. Reach for that brass ring already!”
I filled my lungs again. The new air didn’t lend the fortitude I’d prayed for. “It’s…just not that simple.”
Taylor snorted. “You’re the only one making it complicated.”
A grin burst out, despite the overwhelming need to buy a gallon of Häagen-Dazs and lock myself in with Adele on repeat for a weekend. “I wish I had your mindset, woman. It must be refreshing to always be so optimistic.”
“Didn’t have a choice.” She leaned back, diverting her gaze for the first time during our exchange. “If I didn’t always look for the good in situations and in people, I’d be in a hole somewhere, doing really destructive things.” She blinked, inviting a strange darkness into her eyes, before murmuring with startling sobriety, “It’s…just a better path for me.”
“Well, I admire it.” I sipped at my beer, working so hard to like the stuff. Drake was such a fan, always picking apart the essences of brews as though they were gourmet wine. “It’s not as easy as it looks, the whole Penny Positive thing.”
Taylor wiggled her head as if fluff had landed on her nose. “Meh. I don’t know. It’s just become the way I approach things. I refuse to go by any other book.”
I stared into the golden bubbles inside my mug. “Maybe I should take a lesson from that book.”
“You think?” She dangled a pump from one toe while the sarcasm returned to her face.
I lobbed a wadded napkin at her. “At least I get an A for effort, right?”
“I’d hate to see you lose them.” She slipped her shoe back on as her tone became solemn. “I’ve seen a lot of relationships come and go from my place on the bleachers—and my friend, you have the real deal sitting in front of you.” She set her shoulders. Leveled her gaze. “It’s rare, Talia. And special.”
I didn’t want to absorb her words with every fiber of my body. Didn’t want to feel them seeping into me, feeling so good…so real. “I really wish you were right,” I rasped.
“Oh, I’m right. You can count on that.” She leaned forward again. “Now you have to believe it—and not let them slip away.”
I didn’t finish more than two sips of that beer. My need for it was gone, as my craving for its inspiration had ramped higher. As I hugged Taylor goodbye at the parking deck, it was all I could do to keep thoughts of Drake’s black velvet eyes and dark satin voice out of my imagination. Similar memories of Fletcher, the tawny god from head to toe, weren’t far behind. I knew Taylor understood, and was grateful to her for the sympathy. Though I’d see her again on Monday morning at work, I really was glad we’d spent some time together.
Still, the exchange had muddled me even deeper about Drake and Fletch. Left me more confused than ever.
More scared than ever.
I couldn’t get hurt again. It had taken months to get over the disaster of Gavin and he hadn’t cared about me…not really. Not the way I felt it, experienced it, knew it about Drake and Fletch.
But did I? Really?
I tried to reconcile that truth in my head and heart—yet so many negatives kept attacking, killer bees of doubt with stingers the size of hypodermics.
They live in another state.
They have very successful careers in said state.
They have social lives in said state.
Why the hell would they give up any or all of it for you?
They’d dated models and actresses, corporate goddesses and sexy nightclub dollies. None of those women had settled the two playboys down…so what the hell was different about me? Or even special?
That was the whopper question. One I just couldn’t find an answer for.
But as I brushed my teeth, the truth began staring back at me from the mirror, all over again. Taylor’s rah-rah session faded beneath its glaring correction.
This little affair we were having was just that. There was simply no other explanation. I was a momentary buzz for them, a novelty that would soon wear thin. Believing we could all be happy together was just ignoring the ruthless reality. I didn’t know a single other couple—or trio, as it were—like us.
Final answer—people didn’t actually live this way.
Not happily ever after.
I needed happily ever after. All of it. The house with the huge front yard. The smell of cookies in the air. A special corner for Titus. And yeah, eventually, grandkids to add to my parents’ brood.
I crawled into bed with a heavy but peaceful heart. The comprehension was an ugly cut, but awaiting its arrival had been worse. The three of us had been good while we’d lasted, but three people didn’t make a couple. As jaw-droppingly awesome as everything was with Fletcher and Drake, it simply wouldn’t amount to anything…and I had to stop seeing them before I became more attached to the idea that it would.
I could do this.
I’d be cordial and professional about informing them of my decision when—if—they came back to San Diego, but right now I wasn’t holding my breath. There’d been no talk of a return trip when they’d left.
My heart hurt as I curled onto my side and hugged my pillow closer. Hot tears slid down my cheeks as I contemplated the new truth of my world.
One of the best parts of my life was about to come to an end.
Chapter Four
Drake
“It’s still going straight to voicemail?”
My answer was Fletcher Ford, my closest friend—my ‘brother’—rolling his legendary pair of blue eyes back into his thick skull as he slammed it against the head rest of the passenger seat of my Range Rover.
“Shit.” I shook my head in mock disgust when all I could see were the whites of his eyes. “Get it together, pussy.”
Fletch grunted. “Sure thing. I’ll do that after we pick up your new phone later this afternoon, asshole.”
“I’m not the first person to ever crack a screen.”
“Because you were so pissed she wasn’t answering your calls?”
I shook my head while hitting the left turn blinker, then merging the SUV into Michigan Avenue traffic. “Thank fuck I backed up all of our texts to the cloud last night.”
Fletch coughed. “Now who’s the pussy?”
I let him get away with it—mostly because it was true. We were a pair of goddamn pussies. Smitten, stupid, lovesick idiots. It sucked. This sucked. I illustrated it by white-knuckling the steering wheel and letting out a low rumble. “What the hell is going on with her?”
“And why?” Fletcher rejoined. “Why the hell is she doing this to us? That se
x was fucking amazing.” He trailed off, but then added, “If I must say so.”
“And as usual, you must.”
“You know it was, dick, so shut up.” He thudded a fist against the elbow rest, as twitchy as I was. It had been our constant state for the last three days. “Something about that woman makes me even fuck better.” Thud thud thud. “Dammit. She makes me want to do everything better.”
“For her.”
“Exactly.”
“With her.”
“There’s the obvious.”
“What’s not obvious is the repeated blow-offs.” My own vexation dropped the words into my lower registers. It was either that or throw my fist through the windshield. “Fuck me. I thought we’d moved past this shit. I’ll be glad to tie that girl back down to prove the point again.”
We sat in silence, waiting for the light at Erie to change. As it did, Fletch ventured, “Maybe she’s actually too busy.”
“To even answer a phone call or text?” I debated.
He answered with a guttural sound I attributed to frustration or indigestion. Either one wasn’t going to get us to the bottom of why Talia had taken kiss-off to a brand-new level since we’d left San Diego. Tying her down really might be the magic weapon here—a task I’d be gleefully up for, in more ways than one.
I swung the car into SGC’s parking garage. The tires chirped against the cement before I braked into one of the spaces marked Board Members Only. A quick glance at my watch assured me that we’d walk into the board meeting right on time, if the express elevator was good to us.
Five steps into the dash, I wheeled up short. Cocked a puzzled stare back over my shoulder. “Fletch.” I snapped it at the dumb shit who hadn’t moved out of the truck. “What the hell are you doing? We’re going to be late if—”
“When was the last time one of these things started on time? Especially since the CEO went into paranoid daddy-to-be mode?”
Couldn’t argue his validity, so I didn’t. Instead, I reiterated, “What are you up to?”
He didn’t break rhythm on scrolling through his phone. “Checking her calendar.”