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  “And Noah asked me to marry him in front of everybody only after Duncan spilled the beans and congratulated me on the engagement that hadn’t happened yet. And you know what? It was beautiful and perfect…until he told me he wished it hadn’t happened. That it wasn’t supposed to be like that.”

  Miles whacked his head against the headboard.

  “Mags…go with him. You have nothing keeping you in Minneapolis.” Maggie opened her mouth to protest, but Miles held up his hand. “And Jordan, did he rescind his offer?” Jordan shook her head. “Then maybe he had something else planned that he didn’t get to do. Maybe he thinks he could have done better. You guys are traveling after this, right? Maybe he wanted to do it where you first met, with the perfect words in the most perfect moment. Like, what if he had some amazing speech, where he planned to tell you how you’re the wind beneath his wings, that you complete him, and that his heart cannot go on without you?”

  Jordan snorted. “Did you just sum up our relationship with Beaches, Jerry Maguire, and Titanic?”

  Miles shrugged. “Who am I to deny the power of Bette Midler, Tom Cruise, and Celine Dion? Take it from a guy who, for a long time, thought he was responsible for his own broken heart. The fear of losing someone is a very powerful thing. If Noah blames himself for any pitfalls in your past, he probably saw this as his one chance to get it right, and Duncan kind of took that away from him.”

  Jordan pulled her knees to her chest. “He’s not going to lose me,” she argued.

  Miles shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t get that yet. Give him the chance to show you in his way that you’re his eternal flame, that every little thing you do is magic.”

  “Stop it,” Jordan said, but she was laughing.

  “I’m sure he’s hopelessly devoted to you.”

  Jordan kicked him playfully. “Enough. I get it. He loves me but needs to prove something to himself, even if I don’t need him to prove it to me.”

  Miles laughed. “If you need a wedding playlist, I’m your guy.”

  Maggie narrowed her eyes at him. “If you think it’s so easy for us, why can’t it be easy for you?” she asked.

  He crossed his arms. “First of all, I wasn’t supposed to even be here. I’m an add-on to this whole wedding shindig. An afterthought. I wasn’t supposed to fucking fall for someone in the midst of all this.” He let out a long breath. “Do either of your men live more than an ocean away? Who falls in love and commits to something like that? I…I have a thesis to finish and defend.”

  Maggie nudged his foot with hers. “And after that? You don’t have anyone or anything tying to you Minneapolis after May. You could risk your heart and be in love anywhere.”

  Both girls nodded at him, and Maggie was grateful for Jordan’s solidarity. But she also knew that Miles’s own words, the ones she was echoing to him now, had a lot of merit.

  The only people Maggie had in Minneapolis were Griffin and Miles. She’d always just assumed that the safe little bubble she’d let these two men into would never burst. But after tonight, it was starting to leak. Eventually it would deflate, and she would have to step outside the safety zone—but not at the expense of Griffin’s peace of mind. This fellowship in D.C. was an amazing opportunity for him. How would he be able to enjoy it, to put the work into it that would make him successful, if he was always worrying about her? That was the part she couldn’t let go of.

  Miles brushed the powdered sugar from the bedspread and made sure the cookies were carefully stowed on the night table. Then he hopped off the bed and patted the spot where he’d just been.

  “How about you ladies spoon it out?”

  Maggie’s brows drew together. “Where are you going?”

  He put on that patented Miles grin, the one that told her he was up to no good but would enjoy every second of being bad.

  “I told Alex I was coming back for my bag and to have a quick shower. He’s probably already thinking I decided to cut and run—which, to be honest, was exactly what I was doing here.”

  Maggie stood as well, wrapping her arms around her friend in a tight embrace.

  “Open yourself up to possibility, sweetie,” she whispered in his ear. “Don’t let someone who couldn’t love you like you deserve keep you from someone who can.”

  He squeezed her back, and she felt his heart hammering against her.

  “Don’t tell anyone, Mags,” he whispered back to her, “but I’m scared.”

  “We all are,” she assured him before pulling away and kissing him on the forehead. “Text me when you get there so I know you made it safe. I don’t like you walking back there alone so late.”

  Miles winked. “You got it, darling.” He turned to Jordan, and Maggie followed his gaze. “Good night—” He stopped before uttering her name, and Maggie giggled as they both found Jordan passed out on top of the bedspread, head on a pillow and a smudge of powdered sugar on her nose.

  “She’s going to be okay, right? I mean, her and Noah?” Maggie asked.

  Miles nodded. “So are you and Griffin,” he said. “It’s okay to be scared, but it’s not okay to let fear take the wheel.”

  “Wise words from a man who let fear drive him all the way to my room tonight.”

  Miles chuckled. “Touché. I’m taking the wheel now. Maybe you should, too.”

  And then he kissed her on the cheek and was out the door before she could respond.

  Maggie crawled into bed next to Jordan. She had to tug, jostling her bedmate, to loosen the linens enough so she could climb under the sheets. It didn’t matter. Jordan was out cold.

  But Maggie lay awake for a while longer, trying to convince herself that her reasons for not wanting to go to Washington were rational and not born of her own fear. Because Miles was right. There was nothing holding her in Minneapolis except for the safety of routine.

  What if she had to learn a new routine? Would she be able to adapt, or would it set her back the three years it had taken her to get where she was now?

  Maggie wanted to know the answer, but right now she was losing the battle. Sheer will was nothing against a monster case of jet lag, and as elusive as it had been before Miles and Jordan showed up, sleep finally came. Her last thought was a projection into her near future—rolling over in the bed she shared with Griffin to find his side empty, his nightstand devoid of his glasses and whatever book he was reading.

  And that? Well, that was the scariest thought of all.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Duncan

  Duncan’s fist pounded against Noah’s door, but there was no answer. He checked his phone again. Seven o’clock. Fucking hell, what was he doing awake at a time such as this? Oh, right.

  “I’m getting married today, ya bastard! Wake up and have a pint with me, aye? I’ll just go call on Griffin and be right back.” He turned to make his way farther down the hall to Griffin’s room when he remembered his slight oversight.

  He knocked again.

  “And mornin’ to ya, too, Jordan. I’m sorry if I woke—”

  Before he could finish, the door swung open to reveal Griffin standing in nothing but his jeans. Duncan didn’t have time to process what he was seeing because he was more concerned with the brain malfunction that had led him to believe he was at one location when really he was at another. He hadn’t had that much to drink last night, and even if he had, his talk with Elaina helped fast-forward him to complete and total sobriety.

  “Jesus. What time is it?”

  The question came from behind Griffin, and though he didn’t know her well, Duncan was sure Maggie hadn’t grown a set of baws overnight.

  Griffin pulled the door wide, and Duncan’s eyes took in his surroundings—a blanket and pillow on the couch, the hotel bed unmade just enough to fit one body along the outer edge.

  “Aw hell, lads. What did ya do?” Duncan asked. “I thought I was the only one who fucked up last evening.” He nodded to them both. “You, too?”

  Griffin scrubbed a hand across h
is jaw and looked toward Noah.

  Noah shook his head slowly.

  “What?” Duncan asked. “Out with it. It’s my wedding day—if the bride will still have me, though now she thinks I won’t have her, which is ridiculous, though I did have a bit of a freak-out—shite! What the fuck was I saying? Right. Why are you two here…together?”

  Noah was acting all cagey, scratching the back of his neck, and Duncan didn’t like it. Not one bit. He narrowed his eyes at the two of them.

  “Awright, mates. Someone is going to come clean, right about…now. Let’s have it.”

  “I got this,” Noah said to Griffin before turning back to Duncan. “See…Duncan…I wasn’t actually going to propose to Jordan last night. I had this whole idea of doing it on the train to Scotland—or maybe even on campus. But—this weekend was yours. I had no intention of overshadowing that.”

  Duncan’s brows pulled together. “Overshadowing? I don’t— I mean I didn’t— Wait—” It was all clicking into place. His stomach did this twisting thing that made him feel like the morning after a bottle of Drambuie. But instead of getting sick, his stomach held on to its meager contents, and the man himself slumped against the back of the door.

  “I announced the engagement before it happened.”

  Noah nodded. “But it’s my fault Jordan’s not here, Duncan. Not yours. I messed up.”

  Duncan’s eyes met Griffin’s, and he finally saw the sadness there.

  “Aw, shite, Griffin. I told Maggie you were going away.” Duncan slid all the way down to the floor now, half laughing and half wincing. “Guys—I don’t know what to say. I wasn’t myself yesterday. It was all just too much. And now I’m afraid I may have ruined the day for all of us.”

  Griffin turned and walked back toward the couch, grabbing his phone off the nearby dresser.

  “Enough,” he said, eyes on the screen as he scrolled for something with his thumb.

  “Enough what?” Duncan asked, arms draped over his knees and his chin sunk all the way to his chest.

  And then he heard it, that unmistakable electric guitar rhythm. As much as he wanted to mope, Duncan lifted his head. Griffin was smiling, head nodding to the beat.

  “Dude,” Noah said, laughing. “You are fucking out of your mind.”

  “Get up, McAllister,” Griffin commanded.

  Duncan stood. He couldn’t not. And once he was up, he couldn’t keep his head from bobbing in time with the music, either. Aw hell, he was almost dancing, and he hadn’t even had a pint yet.

  “You just happen to have ‘Eye of the Tiger’ ready and waiting on your playlist?” Noah asked, and Griffin’s smile grew. He held out his phone for Noah to see.

  “A man never knows when he may need the help of one of the greatest American bands from the eighties. It’s like a pep talk from Rocky Balboa each time!”

  “Mickey gives the pep talks, asshole,” Noah said, but he was still laughing.

  All of them were laughing.

  Duncan had made a right mess of everything, starting with the Athens airport. He’d just thought he needed a few minutes to clear his head, to get used to his new life. And now he had to save that new life before it wasn’t his anymore. And he had to make sure Griffin and Noah did the same.

  He opened the door.

  “Where are you going?” Noah asked, but Duncan shook his head.

  “We,” he said. “We are going down to the lobby for a pint, and then we’re going to fix everything.”

  Noah shrugged. “I could use a pint.” He slipped on his shoes and joined Duncan at the door.

  “Early-morning pints it is,” Griffin added and stepped toward the two other men.

  Duncan held up his hand to halt any further movement.

  “Put on a shirt, ya bastard. That may work on your Maggie, but I want none of it.”

  Griffin brandished his phone.

  “Sticks and stones, my friend. Got my soundtrack,” Griffin said, backtracking toward the couch and collecting his shirt from the floor. “Let’s do this. Pints, kilts, and romantic gestures sure to repair the damage we’ve done.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Noah said, following Duncan out into the hall.

  “What romantic gestures?” Duncan asked.

  “That’s what we need to figure out,” Griffin said.

  And with that he was the last to exit the room, letting the door fall closed behind him.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Miles

  Okay, so maybe Miles felt slightly like Edward Cullen at the moment, watching Alex sleep, but he couldn’t help it. He’d woken only to take a piss, but as he padded back to the bed, he noticed how, in sleep, Alex’s full lips parted just enough to let air pass between them. It was also hard to miss the lulling cadence of his chest rising and falling with each rhythmic breath. And really, what man could ignore how the rumpled bedsheet had slid down just past that delicious hip bone? Miles knew—he’d licked that hip bone.

  It wasn’t a matter of opinion. No. This was undeniable fact. Alex was the most beautiful human he had ever encountered, and he’d be damned if he was going to take his eyes off him so long as he was awake.

  “I can feel you staring.”

  The deep morning rasp of Alex’s voice did nothing to calm what stirred inside Miles’s belly—and a little farther south. His eyes dipped to where his boxer briefs hid nothing¸ and Miles laughed quietly to himself. Who was this man, and what had he done with Miles’s boundaries, with the safety net that surrounded his heart?

  “I can feel you feeling me staring,” Miles said. “And I’m not gonna lie—it’s, uh, doing things to me.”

  At this Alex cocked an eye open, just one. But it was enough to see Miles ready and willing inside his briefs.

  “Get back in this bed immediately,” Alex demanded. “I want my fill of you before I have to work the rest of the day and night.”

  Miles didn’t waste a second. He nearly dove into the bed. Because he wanted his fill, too. The only problem was, he didn’t think there was enough time to satiate his need.

  Alex’s eyes were closed again, but he was smiling. Then Miles realized the man was waiting. It was his move; Miles was to take the lead. But a feeling, long foreign to him, took over what had initially brought him back to this bed. It wasn’t the lust he thought he’d felt just by looking at Alex’s barely covered body. It was…loss.

  Miles was on some sort of precipice. He could take his fill, just as Alex would. He could keep up the fantasy and never let Alex know more than he did right now.

  That would be safe—typical Miles. But safe hadn’t introduced him to happiness yet. Sharing only pieces of his true self hadn’t made him whole. So it was time for another approach.

  “I want to tell you something—something more than my name,” Miles said, and Alex opened both eyes, then rose up on his elbow to face his bed partner.

  “I like women,” Miles started, and Alex didn’t flinch. “I like women, and I like men, too.”

  Alex dragged his teeth across his bottom lip, the action simple enough—one Miles had seen at least a hundred people perform before, and he would see hundreds do it again. But all he wanted was to see Alex do it. Alex’s teeth on Alex’s sexy, pouty bottom lip.

  Miles’s mouth went dry, and he knew what he wanted—what he needed—to alleviate the drought.

  “Tell me…” Alex started, and it didn’t matter what came next. Miles would tell this man whatever he wanted to hear. And then Alex smiled, as if he knew he had Miles exactly where he wanted him. “Are you thinking about women right now?”

  Alex let his palm fall on Miles’s inner thigh, his thumb teasing at the hem of his briefs.

  “No,” Miles said, taking care not to breathe in too deeply—or out for that matter—fearing a sudden movement would upset this suspended animation they seemed to be in. And as much as he wanted to obliterate any space left between them, he would not escape this moment. No more easy way out. If only for a short weekend, Miles wa
s going to let go. He was going to let this man know everything, to give himself over to possibility.

  And then he would leave.

  Alex’s palm took to massaging his thigh, the movement slow and deliberate and completely maddening. Then that rogue thumb brushed right over his balls, and Miles hissed in a breath. This guy wasn’t playing fair.

  “How about other men?” Alex asked, his voice like melted chocolate that Miles would willingly lap up. “Are you thinking about other men?” Alex wasn’t asking these questions out of jealousy. Miles could hear that in his voice, in the reassurance and confidence of his tone. Alex knew that in this moment Miles wanted only him. It wasn’t Alex who lacked trust. It was him.

  If spontaneous combustion in humans did, in fact, exist, Miles was sure it was caused by the voice of one Alexander Karas. And maybe the tips of his fingers had something to do with it, too.

  Miles placed a palm on Alex’s cheek, and he felt skin as hot as fire. He ran a thumb over that bottom lip, the one that was demanding to be kissed, and Alex licked the tip of Miles’s thumb.

  “I swear to the fucking gods on Mount Olympus…” Miles said. “That since you sat down next to me on the plane, I have thought of no one but you. I have wanted no one but you. And if I had my way, I would have no one but you for as long as you’d let me.”

  He didn’t wait for a response but instead pulled Alex to him, using only enough restraint so as not to devour the man whole.

  Teeth grazed skin, and tongues danced in a kiss so wild and full of passion that Miles knew for certain if this were another place or time, this would be the person he’d fall for—the one who would see all of him and still want him.

  Alex slid his hand up inside the leg of Miles’s briefs, cupping and massaging and teasing that space between front and back. Everything inside Miles twisted and tangled in agonizing pleasure. Alex’s hand left him for an excruciating few seconds, the time it took to remove Miles’s underwear completely.

  “It was getting in the way,” Alex whispered against his neck as he kissed him on the collarbone as Miles lay bare.

  An open book ready for reading.