“Not everyone’s like that. Allie and I have a good marriage.”
“You’re an anomaly.” I raised my brows and smirked. “And Allie’s a saint.”
The tension between us broken, Ethan reclined in his chair, eyes bright with laughter. “You may be right about that, but a relationship takes hard work. If you love someone, you have to learn to take their faults in stride sometimes and not be so black or white or unbending. People fuck up, Nate.”
“I know,” I said irritably. “I’m not looking for perfection. I’m not looking, period.”
“So, what?” Ethan’s brow wrinkled. “You’d rather be alone and screw your way through life with no lasting relationship?”
The conference room phone rang, and I pointed at it. “Saved by the bell. Answer it. I’m going to my office to dig through those SEC filings.”
“Hey, wait. I wasn’t finished.”
“Yeah? Well, I was.” I escaped, listening to him sputter out curses before scrambling to pick up the call. I slammed out of the room and walked down the hall to my office, barking at my secretary, Marlene, “No calls unless it’s my mother,” and closed the door behind me. Heart pounding, I fell into my chair with athump.
Ethan, I decided as I prepped my files, didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about. He’d had a pampered, gilded life and never had to worry about acceptance. An only child for ten years, he left for college and never returned. Ethan followed the life plan—he married, had kids, and joined the firm, fitting all the right pieces for the son of Whit Sherman.
I was the outlier, the wild card my father never planned on. Years later, even after his death, I still felt I had to prove myself and show him that his gay son was good enough, strong enough, to make it. A real man.
Fuck it.I swiveled my chair to face the stunning view of Midtown Manhattan, but it didn’t register with me. Dwelling on the past never helped, only held a person back. Look at poor Presley, still in the dumps about a best friend he lost six years earlier. Thinking about Presley and the night before, my lips tingled and my dick filled. Damn, he was hot, and I wanted him.
Antiques…I spun around to face my desk, googled Presley’s name, and his store popped up. I scribbled the address down, and with a smile, tore off the paper and tucked it into my jacket pocket, then got to work. With any luck, I wouldn’t be spending my night alone.
Three hours later and four hundred dollars poorer—having bought some bookends I really didn’t need—I held Presley’s hand and gave him my most winning smile in an effort to persuade him to have dinner with me. And after dinner…
“Please, Press?” I widened my eyes.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Are you actually pouting?” A teasing note entered his voice. “You must’ve gotten a lot of mileage that way when you were four.”
Ouch.I did, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Okay. Seriously? I had another shit night, and since we had a good time together, I was hoping to continue it tonight and not have to wait until next week’s meeting.”
At those words, Presley’s smile disappeared. “I wasn’t sure you’d show up again. You didn’t seem too enthusiastic.”
“I have a hard time talking about myself in front of people.”
“Oh, I get that.” Sympathy clouded his eyes. “And I do too, but sitting staring at four walls every night or forcing myself to go out hasn’t helped me.” His face fell, and I wanted to find out what hold that friend had on Presley to keep him in mourning all these years. “I’m hoping if I get a chance to talk about it with strangers in a group, where no one knows me, it’ll be easier.”
“You can talk to me.”
Now why the hell did I say that? I wasn’t the type to unburden myself or have cozy heart-to-hearts about feelings. Uncomplicated and easy. That way no one can ever lie and say they love you, so when they disappoint you, there’s no surprise.
Presley raised a brow, his lips pursed as if he doubted the veracity of my words.
“Are you saying that to get me into bed with you?”
“Wh-what?” Sweat popped out on my brow, and I ran a hand over my hair. Damn, the man wasn’t as sweet and naïve as I thought. The more I studied him, the more I wanted to lay it on the line. “If I said yes, would that help me?”
Presley closed the accounting book in front of him, slid it under the counter, and circled around the display case. His smoky gaze met mine, and in his eyes I read both fear and strength.
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see what happens after dinner, won’t we?”
Nerves jangling, I followed him out the door, my blood beating hot and thick through my veins.
Chapter Five
“Tell me about it,” Nate said.
