Pierce’s arms tighten around me. “I don’t know how I’m going to sit across from you in meetings and pretend I don’t love you.”
“We’ll figure it out.” I press a kiss to his chest, tasting salt that might be sweat or tears. “We have to.”
But even as I say the words, I know we’re lying to ourselves. There’s no going back from this, no pretending we’re just boss and employee when we’ve seen each other’s souls.
Tomorrow is going to destroy us both.
“Thatcher?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. For understanding. For choosing what’s best for both of us, even when it hurts.”
I close my eyes, holding on to the feeling of being in his arms, the sound of his voice in the darkness. “Thank you for loving me enough to let me go.”
We fall asleep holding each other, both of us knowing that when we wake up, everything will be different. Tonight is the end of us, and the beginning of the hardest acting job I’ve ever attempted.
In the morning, I’ll put my mask back on and pretend our hearts aren’t breaking.
But tonight, in the darkness of Pierce’s monochrome bedroom, I’m going to love him with everything I have.
28
PIERCE
I waketo sunlight streaming through my bedroom windows and the warm weight of Thatcher’s body pressed against mine. His arm is draped across my chest, his breathing deep and even, and for a moment, I let myself pretend this is just another morning. That we have dozens more mornings like this ahead of us.
But the reality of what we decided last night returns with brutal clarity. This is our last morning. In a few hours, we’ll be back to being boss and employee, nothing more.
Thatcher stirs beside me, his eyes open to meet mine. For a split second, his smile is pure happiness, sleepy and content. Then memory returns, and I watch the joy fade from his expression.
“Good morning,” he says softly, his voice rough from sleep and the tears we both shed last night.
“Good morning.” I brush a curl back from his forehead, memorizing the feeling of touching him freely. “How did you sleep?”
“Better than I will tonight,” he admits, pressing closer. “Pierce…”
“I know.” I pull him up for a kiss that starts gentle but quickly deepens into something desperate. His hands tangle in my hair as I roll us over, pressing him into the mattress like I can somehow keep him here forever.
“One more time,” Thatcher breathes against my lips. “Please. I need to feel you one more time.”
I can’t deny him anything, especially not this. I roll us over, pressing him into the mattress as my mouth finds his neck, tasting the skin I’ve come to know so well.
“Slow,” I murmur, catching his hands. “If this is our last time, I want to savor every second.”
Thatcher’s eyes well with tears he refuses to let fall. “Pierce…”
I silence him with a kiss that’s deep and claiming, my tongue sliding against his as my hands map the planes of his chest. He arches beneath me, his skin already flushed with arousal, and I follow the path of heat with my mouth.
“So beautiful,” I breathe against his collarbone, leaving marks that will fade long before my memory of this moment does. “I want to remember every inch of you.”
I grasp his underwear, sliding them down his legs. The sight of him hard and wanting beneath me makes my breath catch. His piercing glints in the morning light, and I lean down to trace it with my tongue, drawing a broken moan from his lips.
“Pierce, please,” he gasps, his hands fisting in my hair. “I need you inside me.”
“Not yet,” I say, working my way lower. “Let me taste you first. Let me make this last.”
I take him in my mouth slowly, savoring the weight of him on my tongue. Thatcher’s hips lift off the bed, seeking more contact, but I hold him still, controlling the pace.
