I do a quick scan of the sites I have open. Even though I knew a second search on Zach probably wouldn’t turn much up, I had to try anyway. There are about a million more hits on Ethan, but so far none of them have been what I’m looking for. Neither one of them is on social media. Their online presences, as far as I can tell, actually look curated.
I wouldn’t put it past either one of them to have a legion of interns carefully monitoring the web, looking to dispel any rumors or unsightly photos. Both men are that precise and thorough.
I’ve hit a wall. It’s probably time to give up, but I can’t just yet. These men, two strong people who I’ve already come to admire so much… I can see perfectly how they would be best friends, and I just can’t get my head around their falling out.
Next to me, my transcribed notes from the morning’s interview sit, waiting to be written into a full article. I’m not ready yet, though. There’s no heart to the information I’ve collected. Or there is, but it’s just not enough.
Pushing my chair back, I shuffle over to the kitchen area and refill the mug with cold coffee. While it nukes in the microwave, I go back to the desk and check my email.
My heart flips at the sight of a message from Ethan.
Heard you got a second interview with Zach. Well done. Just remember what I told you, Noelle, and be careful.
The message was delivered around 10 p.m. Five minutes after that, there’s a second one from him.
By the way, I can’t stop thinking about you.
That makes me smile and wakes me up more than a hot cup of coffee. Now the only thing that would make this moment better would be hearing from Zach as well. Or, better yet, having him here.
I still don’t feel guilty about hooking up with the both of them. And what’s weirder is that I think I’m starting to feel less conflicted about it.
My memory drifts back to the dream, to the feel of their bodies pressed against mine. What happened was a figment of my imagination, but could real life be just as good?
I run my bottom lip across my teeth, my core heating up. It’s nothing but a fantasy, this idea that both of them would want me at the same time.
I’ve never had something like that before. I’m not even sure how one goes about making that happen. Considering Ethan and Zach hate each other, the chances of them sharing me is about as good as Hell freezing over.
Still…if they were to make up…
A delicious shudder goes through me. I shake it off. I can’t be thinking about things like that. Digging up the truth is something I’m doing for other reasons. Not only do I want to know Ethan and Zach better, I genuinely want them be friends again.
And if, somehow, someway, something did happen between the three of us…
Nope. Not going there. It’s late, and I’m being weird. Plus, the microwave is dinging.
The coffee is hot, and there’s work to do.
Chapter 11
The second time I fall asleep, it’s not at my desk, but in my bed at around three in the morning. Though I haven’t set an alarm, I’m awake by eight, the weekdays at the Franciscan having already made it impossible for me to sleep late.
Packing up my computer and notes, I book it downstairs and to the coffee shop a few blocks away, hoping a change of scenery will help reset my brain. There’s a pounding in my temples, and an even worse one between my legs. Hours later, I’m still thinking about that dream—and not much else.
I close my eyes and lean back against the exposed brick in the coffee shop. The cacophony of early morning customers, milk steaming, and baristas calling out orders helps me chill out.
At this point, with very little information up my sleeve other than what Ethan and Zach have provided me with, I’m not really sure what I’m doing. Once I discover the truth—if I discover the truth—what am I going to do with it? Am I going to let them know?
On the table next to my laptop, my phone buzzes. My eyes snap open, and I instantly reach for it. Zach? Ethan?
It’s Claire.
SOS. I’m outside your place!
I reply to her text, telling her where I am. Five minutes later and she comes into view on the other side of the glass, wearing a tight dress, a motorcycle jacket, and giant sunglasses. She ducks her head and lets her hair hang over her face as she enters the coffee shop.
“Hey,” she mutters, pulling out the chair across from me.
“Hey. That’s an interesting, um…choice of…”
She pulls the sunglasses off and gives me a pointed look with mascara-smeared eyes.
I put it all together.
“Oh. You didn’t go home last night.”
Claire sighs and helps herself to my coffee. “Nope, but it’s not what you think.”
“Spill, then.”
“Remember I told you about that guy I met on that new app? The writer?”
“Yeah.”
“We went out last night.”
“Keep going.”
A couple girls walk by, stealing glances at Claire. She slips her sunglasses back on.
“Everything seemed fine at dinner, and then when we went back to his place. He was doing everything right. The music was good, the wine was great…”
She’s pausing for dramatic effect—something Claire loves to do.
Taking a deep breath, she plunges on.
“And then he started talking about his ex-girlfriend. One it turned out he only broke up with four days ago. He started crying, Noelle. Crying. On my shoulder. I was sitting there patting him.”
“And then you had sex?” I ask between chortles.
She snorts. “And then he fell asleep on me. While still crying, I need to point out. That’s why I look like this.” She gestures to her face. “I get to do a walk of shame, except there was nothing to enjoy in the first place.”
“Why didn’t you just leave?”
“I tried to once, but he latched onto me in his sleep and begged me not to. At least I think he was sleeping.” She frowns.
“Maybe he was half-sleeping, and he thought you were his ex-girlfriend.”
“Ugh. You’re right. He probably did.” With a groan, she drops her head into her hands. “This is such bullshit. Has dating always been this hard?”
I sigh. “I don’t know, but don’t feel that bad. It’s not easy for any of us.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re seeing two guys.”
“I feel like ‘seeing’ is kind of a stretch.”
Her lips twist. “Whatever. You’ve still hit the jackpot, and you know it.”
I don’t say anything. Maybe the sudden influx of male attention in my life looks great, but the complications that have come along with it are pretty daunting.
“Can I have one of your guys?” Claire pouts. “Please, Noelle? Please?”
“Be careful what you wish for,” I laugh.
“Anything has to be better than having a grown man cry on your shoulder.” She stands up. “I’m getting coffee, and then I have to go pick up a new dog.”
“What kind?”
“A Great Dane.”
“You’re going to walk a Great Dane in those?” I eye her high heels.
“Girl, after what I endured last night, I can do anything.”
She gets her coffee, and we say goodbye. I’m just about to get back to my computer when my phone receives another text.
Zach.
Just seeing his name makes me all warm and giddy.
Ready for another drink?
Smiling, I compose a response.
It’s Saturday morning.
It takes less than a minute for him to write back.
Right. So… Brunch?
Biting my lip in pleasure, I take a moment to debate. My brain is fried, and it’s not like my hours spent researching have taken me anywhere. It’s the weekend. I want to let loose, enjoy myself. And I want to see Zach.
Plus, if I’m lucky, he might just be willing to talk about Ethan again. It’s not a guarantee, thou
gh, so I won’t push it… Only remain open to it.
After a few more texts, we set up a time and a place, and I rush home to shower. This time I don’t linger under the spray, indulging in fantasies. Real life is waiting for me.
I choose a yellow sundress, a color everyone says goes great with my hair and skin tone, and do my makeup natural. An hour later and I’m at the designated spot, a French restaurant that Zach picked.
I linger on the patio, near the wicker chairs and techies drinking press pots of coffee, my stomach aflutter with butterflies. Though I’ve spent a number of hours in Zach’s presence at this point, what’s about to happen here is different. This isn’t an interview. It isn’t a hookup. It’s a proper date.
And it has me grinning like crazy.
The soft touch on my lower back makes me spin around. Zach’s full glory—dimples, sparkling eyes, knee-shaking scent and all—overwhelms me. I can barely get my mouth open to say anything.
“You look…” His gaze goes down my dress, but it’s a quick once-over, one that feels merely appreciative and not lascivious. “Beautiful,” he softly finishes. “Should we get a table? Inside or out?”
It feels so perfect, so romantic, the way that he keeps his arm extended, gesturing for me to go forward as the hostess guides us to a table outside. He even pulls my chair out for me, waiting until I’m settled to take his own seat.
“Thanks for meeting me. I know it was kind of last-minute.”
I laugh. “Says the tech mogul.”
There’s that side grin. Pressure mounts between my legs, and I cross them in an attempt to quell my desire.
“I know I should probably ask you how the article is going, but I don’t want to.” He reaches across the white tablecloth, and his fingers just skim over the tips of mine. “Today, no work talk. No articles. No Ethan.” His gaze locks onto mine. “Just us.”
Just us.
The words are so good they steal my breath, so I simply swallow and nod.
“Sound good?”
“Sounds great,” I finally manage.
He smiles again, making me feel lightheaded. All I can think about is how many inches are between us and what I would be doing if we were somewhere alone right now.
Before a full-throttle fantasy can take hold, a waitress arrives and we place our orders.
“No cocktail after all?” I question Zach as the waitress brings us both cups of coffee.
“I’m hoping there’ll be time for that later.” He gives me a meaningful look.
I bite back my smile and get busy stirring cream into my coffee. It’s cup number three this morning, and I thought I was going to need it, but now that it’s here I find I’m amazingly awake. After a night spent researching over my computer, Zach’s bringing me back to life.
A bit of shame washes over me when I think about my digging. If he knew what I was doing, he probably wouldn’t be smiling for long.
Clearing my throat, I look for a cheerier topic. “You said we can’t talk about work today.”
“Nope.”
He leans back and sips his coffee. He’s the most casual I’ve ever seen him, in a T-shirt from a brewery and jeans, but the clothes still fit well, the shirt stretching tight against his muscles and the jeans probably custom made. I’ve already caught several women gazing longingly after him.
“Then what are we going to talk about?”
His cup lands on the saucer with a delicate clink. “Don’t tell me your whole life is work.”
“Definitely not.” I place my folded hands on the table. “It’s only about ninety percent of my life.”
We smile at the same time.
“Seriously,” Zach rumbles. “Give me a typical day in the life of Noelle.”
“A typical one? Hm, let’s see… I work. I go home. I go to the gym. Watch TV. Read. Sometimes meet my friends for drinks.” I shrug. “Just the usual things, I guess. What about you?”
“Work.” He shakes his head. “Way too much. But we said—”
“We said we weren’t going to talk about work,” I say over him.
“Right.”
Our food arrives, and we’re quiet for a minute as we unfold our napkins and take the first bites. It’s a comfortable silence, with no need to rush imbued in it.
“Where do you go camping?” Zach asks, eyes flicking up from his plate.
My fork stills. “So you were being serious about that?”
He blinks, looking uncertain.
“When you asked me about where I like to camp and hike,” I explain. “The night at the tapas bar.”
“I remember,” he softly answers.
His face hardening, he puts down his fork and knife.
“I shouldn’t have pretended to be someone I wasn’t, telling you I was my own assistant. It was low. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” My chest constricts. He looks so regretful, there’s no way I can stay mad.
“I was on guard. Telling you my name was Ryan and I was my own assistant, that was something I’d planned on doing before I even got downstairs. And then, we connected… We had…something there.”
“It’s fine, Zach. Actually, it’s kind of awesome. You’d make a good journalist. It takes balls to go undercover like that.”
“Or maybe just stupidity.”
I scrunch up my face. “I’m pretty sure it’s the former. Hey, by the way… I do have one question about all of that.”
“Mm-hmm,” he eagerly nods. “What is it?”
I lower my voice and bat my lashes. “Did you mean to put me in a position where I was calling out another man’s name while in bed with you?”
It’s as forward of a statement as I’ve ever made, and I almost want to regret saying it, but then Zach’s foot finds mine under the table and his tongue darts out to moisten his lips. Just like that, my panties are soaked.
Here we are, on a patio surrounded by other people, basically on the precipice of foreplay.
“That’s something else I’d like to make up for,” he answers in a gravelly voice.
Heat quickly spreads across my skin, and I take a sip of coffee just to stop myself from bursting out in excited giggles.
“You like Inspiration Point,” he says.
I feel my eyebrows go up.
“You remember that.”
“You’re a memorable girl, Noelle. Get used to it.”
“Okay,” I saucily answer. “I’ll try. And yes, I like Inspiration Point.”
“How about we go there?”
“After this?”
“I was thinking more like go on our way back from my cabin on Sunday.”
I almost choke on my coffee. “Sorry?”
“I have a place outside of the city. Come with me there. It’s on a lake, secluded from everything else. We can spend the night there, build a fire, do anything we want…”
He lets the suggestiveness hang in the air. My heart is beating wildly, rush after rush of what can only be described as adrenaline mixed with sugar water shooting through my veins. I’m swooning. Hard.
Of course I want to go to Zach’s cabin. I want to experience everything there is to there—and to maybe never leave.
“Do you go there a lot?” I ask.
He gives an almost imperceptible shake of the head. “Not nearly enough.”
“So you only go when you take girls there?” It’s a thinly hidden joke. I’m actually dying to know whether or not I’m special to Zach.
“I don’t take anyone there, Noelle,” he seriously says. “But I want to take you.”
It feels as if I’m hurtling through space. That’s the best way to describe what’s happening. My whole world, the life I’ve always known, is flying by my eyes. I’m reaching out, desperately trying to grab onto something.
And what I lock onto is Zach.
“I would love to go.”
His eyes light up. “Excellent. It’s only about an hour outside of the city. We can stop by your place after this so you can grab your
things.”
“What about your stuff?”
The slightest blush tints his cheeks. “I, uh, did some optimistic packing. There’s a bag in my car.”
I laugh out loud. “Excellent.”
I excuse myself to the restroom, thinking I should probably check my makeup and make sure everything is still good. I feel Zach’s eyes on my back as I walk inside, drilling a hole between my shoulder blades. Just to give him a show, I add a little hip swing to each step.
In the ladies’ room, a grin the size of the Grand Canyon meets me. I’m going to the country with Zach Garner. And not just for a few hours. We’re going on a weekend getaway!
Still smiling, I touch up my lip gloss and powder. Just as I’m dropping the makeup brush in my purse, my phone beeps.
With one look at the screen, I’m breathless.
Good morning. Meet me at the office? Ethan asks.
My thumbs hover over the screen as I debate what to say. Of course I can’t meet him at the office right now. I’m with Zach, about to head out of the city for the next twenty-four hours. But Ethan can’t know that.
Can’t today, I type back. Is this about the article?
The little dots on the text thread dance as he types back.
The article…and other things.
A hot shiver works its way through me. Closing my eyes, I lean against the sink and let out a low moan. If you’d told me a month ago that it was possible to lust this hard after two men at the same time, I would have called you crazy. Now I know the impossible really can come true.
I’m not canceling my plans with Zach for Ethan. I’m drawn to both these men, albeit in very different ways. But things are more complicated with Ethan. He’s my boss, the man signing my checks. There’s a lot more at risk in our relationship.
That doesn’t mean that I’m laying what we have to rest. Quite the contrary. If Ethan ever touches me again, my panties will be melting. For sure.
It just means that right now, with a hot, attentive, blond billionaire waiting for me, I’m giving myself to the moment. I’m getting out of San Francisco for the weekend, and I’m going to have the time of my life.
Power Play - A MFMMM Reverse Harem Billionaire Romance (You Can't Resist a Bad Boy Book 6) Page 40
