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Drake swallows hard, the muscles of his throat jumping beneath my hand.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” I murmur, trying to ignore the way hips cant back against me. “Why the hell are you here?”
“Liam is getting married,” he manages to croak out.
I tighten my grip on Drake’s body, unconsciously betraying my distress at the mention of the Cordonian prince. “That’s got nothing to do with me,” I respond, relaxing my hold, but still keeping his body tight to mine.
“We need to stop the wedding. And we need your help.”
“Goddamn it,” I mutter, leaning forward to rest my head on his shoulder. I let out a frustrated groan and Drake shivers, his breath catching. I shove him away from me, running my hands through my hair in an attempt to calm my nerves. “Come on then. Let’s get this over with.”
Thirty minutes later…….
“I’m sorry… you want me to do what?” I lean back in my office chair, looking over my desk at Hana, Maxwell, and Drake.
“Attend Liam and Madeline’s engagement party,” Hana says hurriedly.
“Talk to Liam privately,” Drake says.
“And blow up the engagement so Liam can call off the wedding!” Maxwell finishes.
I rest my elbows on my desk and drop my head into my hands. “Yeah, that’s what I though you said.”
“I know we’re asking a lot of you,” Hana says, rising from her seat and joining me behind my desk. She wraps her arms around me and squeezes tightly. “And I’m sorry we just barged in like this, but we really don’t know what else to do.”
I raise my head and gently extricate myself from her embrace. “Even if I agree to do this, there’s a chance it won’t work, Cinnamon Bun.”
Hana smiles at my use of her nickname. “It may not,” she admits. “But at least we’ll have tried.”
“Liam has to get married at some point,” I continue. “Why can’t he just marry Madeline and get it over with?”
Maxwell grimaces. “Madeline is awful.”
“Liam deserves to be happy. And you made him happy,” Drake says, looking as if this admission is causing him physical pain. “He needs to be reminded that there’s more to his life than just duty to Cordonia.”
I bark out a laugh, the sound loud and startlingly cruel in the relative silence of my office. “He didn’t care when I left; what makes you think he’s going to care now?”
“To be fair you completely ghosted him. What was he supposed to do?” Maxwell says bitterly.
“I left him a note.” Defensive, I cross my arms over my chest.
The three of them exchange a look I can’t decipher.
“Liam never got a note,” Hana says slowly.
I shake my head. “No. No… I left a note in his room, just like I did you guys. I told him… it doesn’t matter now. But I left him a note. Are you sure he didn’t get it?”
“No, he didn’t.” Drake scowls. “Which means someone got to it before he did.”
“You really think someone in the palace would hide something like that from Liam?” Maxwell asks, frowning.
“Constantine,” Hana whispers. “Constantine would.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” I repeat, shaking my head. I drum my fingers against my desktop, thinking. “So to re-cap... you want me to go to a party full of people who despise me and would do almost anything to keep me from being with Liam. Then you want me to somehow sneak past who knows how many bodyguards to try to speak with Liam privately. And if he does agree to talk to me, you want me to convince him to rebel against his father and call off his wedding, which could potentially affect his ability become king?”
“Yeah, that about sums it up,” Maxwell says brightly.
“You’re all fucking insane.”
Hana sighs. “We understand, Callum. It was unfair of us to even - ”
“Do it for me,” Drake interrupts her. “Please, Callum. Please do this for me.”
His brown eyes bore into mine, silently pleading with me.
“Motherfucker,” I mutter, rubbing my forehead. “Fine. Fine. What’s the plan?”
The trio exchanges a surprised look, like they hadn’t actually expected me to ever agree.
“You can come to the engagement party as my date,” Drake blurts out suddenly. “And the three of us can get you an opening to talk to Liam.”
“Drake…” Hana glances between Drake and I, suddenly hesitant.
“You really want me as your date, Brat?” I ask, unable to keep the teasing note from my voice.
“Absolutely,” he replies, his voice low and husky.
This is insane.
“When are we doing this?”
“Tomorrow night,” Maxwell says. “Dress code is black tie.”
I shove a post-it and a pen towards him. “Write down the details.”
“The party is in the ballroom of the hotel we’re staying at. You should meet me at my hotel room before the party starts,” Drake says, blushing faintly. “So we can walk in together.”
My heart thumps loudly in my chest. “Sure,” I manage to say, my mouth suddenly dry.
“We should probably go,” Hana says, breaking the tension between me and Drake. “It’s late and tomorrow’s going to be a big day.”
“Yeah,” I mumble in agreement.
I hug Maxwell and Hana before they hurry out of my office, leaving Drake to linger behind.
“You need something else?” I ask, arching one eyebrow.
He takes a step closer to me. “From you? So many things.”
My eyes widen in surprise, and a frisson of excitement streaks through me. I raise my hand, cupping the side of his face. Drake sighs, nestling further into my touch. I run my thumb over his full lower lip as a number of sinful thoughts run through my mind.
“Tell me,” I whisper. “Tell me and I’ll give you anything you want.”
Drake nervously licks his lips, his tongue flicking out and touching my thumb. I groan, unable to stop myself, the warm, wet touch of his tongue sending every drop of blood in my body straight to my dick. Drake suddenly jerks away from me, breaking the spell.
“Maxwell and Hana are waiting,” he says, stumbling to the door on shaky legs. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you…”
What the fuck was that?
I heave out a shuddering breath, staring at my closed office door. “What am I doing?”
I sit back down in my office chair, taking out my phone and automatically opening up a news app.
“Cordonian Prince Visits New York as the Last Stop on Official Engagement Tour”. A full color picture of Liam and Madeline walking arm in arm accompanies the headline. They look happy.
Like they belong together.
“What is wrong with me?” I mutter, unable to take my eyes off of my phone screen. I trace Liam’s face with the tip of my finger, remembering the softness of his skin. His scent. The way his body felt against mine. The way his lips tasted. How his eyes would crinkle at the corners when he would smile.
“Fuck!” I scream, throwing my phone. It shatters against the walls, bits of plastic flying through my office like shrapnel. I sweep my arm across my desk, scattering papers and bits of office paraphernalia.
Rage…
Grief…
Love…
Confusion…
The emotions I’ve spent that past year bottling up swirl in my chest, refusing to be contained any longer. I scream again, tearing the computer monitor from the top of my desk, and smashing it on the floor. I slam my office chair against the wall, tearing a hole through the dry wall. I tear pictures and framed certificates from the walls, dropping them to the floor and crushing them beneath my boots. A visitor’s chair gets tossed against the door, cracking the smooth wooden finish. When I run out of things to destroy, I crouch down in the far corner of my office, tugging on my hair as I breath heavily, using the pain as an anchor.
Liam…
The next evening…
“Damn it.” Drake stand in front of a mirror, struggling with his tie. A soft knock sounds on his hotel door, breaking his concentration. He sighs, giving up on his tie, and goes to answer the door.
“Hey, Brat.” Callum leans against the door jamb, smirking languidly as his eyes lazily rove over Drake’s body. “You look good.”
Drake’s brain short circuits as he takes in Callum’s appearance. Dressed in a form fitting black suit and black silk shirt, black gauges and septum ring his only jewelry, he oozes confidence and sex appeal. Unlike Drake, he’s opted not to wear a tie, leaving the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone and showing off a tantalizing strip of skin that Drake desperately wants to kiss.
“Having some troubles?” Callum asks, gesturing to the undone tie hanging around Drake’s neck.
Drake clears his throat, trying to fight the blush creeping over his cheeks. “Yeah… I never really learned how to tie one of these things.”
“Want some help?”
Drake nods, sighing in relief.
“What do you say when you want something, Brat?” Callum’s voice is low and playful.
“Huh?”
“What’s the magic word?”
Drake narrows his eyes. “I’m not playing this game with you. I’ll figure it out on my own.”
Callum kicks the door closed and takes a step closer, gazing down into Drake’s eyes as he takes hold of the tie around his neck. “Who’s playing? All you have to do is say one little word… then I’ll give you what you want.”
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Drake blushes and clears his throat, growing increasingly flustered by my flirting.
Too easy.
“You should quit teasing me,” he mutters.
“Who says I’m teasing, Brat?” I purr, using the tie to tug him closer, until his chest is pressing against mine.
His eyes flit away momentarily before meeting mine once again. “Can I ask you something, Callum?”
“Of course,” I say, confused by the sudden subject change.
“If we had met somewhere else… anywhere else. At a club in New York, or in an airport, or at a party… If you hadn’t been our waiter that night, and I hadn’t been sitting next to Liam… Do you think all of this… do you think it could’ve been different… between us?”
I blink, stunned into inaction by the question.
Would it have been different?
Drake stares up at me, beautiful brown eyes wide and beseeching as he waits for my answer. Drake, who had always been on my side, who had done his best to warn me about the dangers of the Cordonia court. Who had been there for me when Liam wasn’t. Who let me be myself and liked me in spite of it. Drake, who stands before me open and vulnerable, laying his feelings bare for me to accept or reject.
I lean forward until our mouths are barely a hairsbreadth apart. “Yeah, baby,” I murmur, our lips gently brushing together with every word I speak. “It would’ve been different. I think everything would’ve been different.”