Chapter 14
“Blank Space” - Taylor Swift
Maeve
The thought comes while I’m on my second glass of wine. It’s Friday night, and I’ve just returned from dinner with my parents—a nightmare, but that was to be expected. My father lambasted me for a good fifteen minutes about the deal with Luminara Tech still being in limbo.
That was followed by my mother chiding me relentlessly throughout the rest of the meal for everything I do that drives men away.
Want to hear all of my atrocious personality traits?
I don’t smile enough. I’m too angry. I’m too uptight.
I’m not soft enough. I don’t slow down long enough for anyone to approach me.
I frown too often. I say too much. I don’t say enough.
I could continue, but I’m sure you’re as bored as I am.
As far as either of my parents are concerned, I’m the furthest thing from the daughter they wish they had. And I’m starting to wonder if maybe they’re right about me.
It’s been eating at me ever since poker night on Tuesday. They declared Pierce the winner of the stupid assistant challenge. Can you believe it? They said it was a close call, but since I sent Lux and Walker a text essentially calling Pierce a psychopath, they labeled it a complaint.
So I’m labeling them the worst friends in the world for 1) snitching on me for the text, and 2) siding with said psychopath. The guy has an entire showcase of collectible slot machines. There’s got to be at least a little something wrong with his head, don’t you think?
I could blame my decision on the wine, even though I haven’t drunk any more than usual. I could blame it on my parents making me lose my bloody sanity, but in reality, this was just a normal Friday night.
And before you judge me for what I’m about to do, you should know that I have explored every other reasonable solution.
I wouldn’t be standing out here if I hadn’t.
Nothing has helped. This is quite literally my last option.
I’m not exactly hopeful it will help, but I figure if my world’s going down in smoke anyway, a little more fuel on the fire can’t hurt.
At least the blaze will be more dramatic.
So, before I can talk myself out of this for the fifth time, I lift my hand and knock on Pierce’s door.
* * *
I half expect him not to be home. It is Friday night, after all, and he has a girlfriend.
Normal guys would be out having dinner. Although it’s a little late to still be eating.
It was eleven when I left my house, which means it must be nearly half past now, thanks to my sitting in the parking garage for a good fifteen minutes before finding the courage to come up here.
And then it occurs to me that, if by some miracle he actually happens to be home, he’s probably with her. I slap my hand over my mouth, horrified that of all the excuses I used to talk myself out of this, that was the only one that didn’t occur to me.
I’m slinking back to the lift when the door to Pierce’s flat opens.
“Maeve?”
I turn around, certain I must look like a child who just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. (Not that I would know—my mother doesn’t believe in cookies.)
“What are you doing here?” Pierce asks, leaning against the doorframe. He’s wearing dark pants and a white shirt. The sexy glasses are nowhere in sight, thank god.
“I, uh—” I wince and squeeze my eyes shut, hoping this is just a wine-induced dream. “Are you alone?”
He runs his fingers over his jawline. “If I say yes, will you try to kill me while there are no witnesses?”
“I thought about it,” I say, “but I’m actually here for an unrelated reason.”
“A reason unrelated to my death. How intriguing. Do go on.”
I gesture to the gulf of empty space between us. “I’m here to do this thing.”
“Do what thing?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” I snap. “It was your idea.”
He sniffs and readjusts his position. “Which idea? I have a lot of good ones.”
We’re still standing six feet apart, and I’m terrified someone will come out and overhear us, so I take several steps closer. “Don’t make me say it.”
He lowers his voice until it’s practically a purr. “You’re going to have to if you want me to know what you’re talking about.”
I breathe my frustration out through my nose. “You said if I ever needed someone to help me . . . relax, you would . . . you know.” God, that might be the most mortifying string of words I’ve ever had to utter.
This whole time I thought he was playing me, but I can see the realization wash over his face as he puts the pieces together.
“Maeve Allegra Wilson,” he says, running his tongue over his bottom lip and managing to dampen my brand-new lace underwear as he does so. “Are you propositioning me for sex?”
Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms over my chest. “You don’t have to put it that way.”
He scans me from head to toe, slowly and with a touch of amusement. “I thought you had a boyfriend.”
“We’re not exclusive,” I say. “Obviously.”
He arches a single brow.
“He has a wife.”
His chin tilts upward in a silent ah as he considers me. My palms grow sweatier the longer he stares. What is he waiting for? If he’s going to turn me down, I’d rather he just get it over with. But maybe that’s the point. He intends to play with his food before he eats it.
Finally, he pushes the door open and inclines his head. “Come in.”
It feels a little like the fox inviting Henny Penny into his cave, but I cross the threshold anyway. If I’m Henny Penny, I’m confident enough in my ability to get the fox into the cooking pot if it all goes to hell.
Pierce closes the door behind me, and the click as it latches into place jolts through me.
Everything is screaming at me to run, but that would be admitting that this was a bad idea in the first place.
Wilsons aren’t known for having bad ideas, and I don’t see a reason to start that rumor now.
Although I have to confess, this is the most uptight I’ve felt since the first time I was in the same room as Preston and his wife after we started seeing each other.
As far as relaxation techniques go, I’ll have to put this one at the bottom of the list.
Pierce is still standing at the door, watching me.
Cool sexuality ripples off him, and I don’t know how I’ve never noticed it before.
The man personifies sex. The outline of thick muscles is visible through his sleeves, and his steady gaze sends a signal to my core that this man is probably quite good in the bedroom.
“Well?” I say, eager to get this over with. “Shall I undress?”
He ducks his head to hide his smile, but I see it anyway. Great, so we’re back to me amusing him.
“No, you don’t need to undress.”
I gape at him. “Are you planning to do this fully clothed?” That isn’t something I’m comfortable with. I’ve never tried it, but it sounds abhorrent.
“Can we slow down?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. “I need to make a call first.”
“Sure, I’ll just get some water.” Mortified, I head to the kitchen.
God, he must think I’m some kind of sex fiend, ready to jump his bones the second we’re alone.
I skip the water and head straight for the wine.
The glasses I had earlier were hours ago and are no longer deadening anything.
And if I’m actually going to crawl into Pierce St. James’s bed, I’m going to need something to take the edge off.
I turn around, wine in hand, to find Pierce staring at me from the kitchen doorway. Startling, I nearly slosh liquid over the rim of my glass. “Ready?” I ask.
“Not yet. She didn’t answer.”
My eyes dart back and forth, trying to put the pieces together. “Who’s she?”
“Amara.”
I widen my eyes. “Isn’t that your—?”
“My girlfriend, yes.”
I set my goblet down before I drop it. “I’m sorry, are you saying you’re going to tell your girlfriend that you’re about to have sex with me?”
Closing his eyes, he breathes out a laugh. “No, Maeve. I’m planning to break up with her.”
“Wait.” I hold up my hand to stop whatever trainwreck is about to happen. “This doesn’t mean anything. We do this one time, but that’s it. Nothing happens after this. We’re not going to be exclusive. We’re not going to be anything after this.”
He nods as though he understands. “I know, but she and I are.”
“I thought you wanted to do this. It was your idea.” My heart rate is twice what it was when I walked in, and that’s saying something.
“I do want to. Believe me.” He wiggles his phone in the air. “Hence the breakup.”
“You’re going to break up with your girlfriend to have sex with me one time?” My boyfriend can’t even leave his wife for me, and it’s been over a year.
“I’m pretty sure we’ll do it more than once,” he says, then tosses me a wink.
I stand there speechless as he holds the phone to his ear, eyes locked on mine.
“Hey, Amara.” His tone is soft, and I have a fleeting thought: if this is his bedroom voice, will he use it on me in a few minutes?
My face grows hot.
He keeps holding my gaze. “Listen, this just isn’t working out.” The guy doesn’t even leave the room, just breaks up with his girlfriend while I’m standing here like a bloody idiot.
A few seconds pass while she is presumably saying something, but from the way Pierce’s gaze is traversing my face, you wouldn’t be able to tell that anyone else has his attention.
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” he says. “If it makes you feel better, it would’ve happened sooner or later anyway.”
I can verify that this is, in fact, the truth. I’ve never seen him with the same woman for more than three months. Maybe I should be worried that there’s something wrong with him, but since we’re not going to be dating anyway, it’s of no concern to me.
He pauses for Amara’s response, then winces. A second later, he pulls the phone from his ear and pockets it.
“I take it that didn’t reassure her,” I say, catastrophically nervous now that there is nothing between us.
“It did not.” Something shifts in his eyes, turning them more predatory.
“You couldn’t have thought it would.” I don’t know why I feel the need to point this out, but there’s a tremor in my hands that makes me want to buy time.
He shrugs. “Didn’t really think about it.”
“Why not? She’s your girlfriend.”
“Was.” He reaches for a bottle of whiskey on the shelf above my head. “And I didn’t think about it because my mind was full of something else.”
My mouth goes dry as I watch him pour a glass. “And what was that?”
Pierce raises the tumbler to his mouth but doesn’t take a drink. “Considering how I want to fuck you for the first time.” Then he tosses the whole thing back in one go.