Chapter Eleven
Liam
When my good friend Henry texted me to join him for dinner and a night out, I didn’t hesitate.
After the week I’d had—long hours at GalvaTech, pretending not to be distracted by Morgan every time she walked past my office, nearly kissing her in a moment I still couldn’t stop replaying in my mind—a couple of drinks in a loud nightclub sounded appealing.
I needed something uncomplicated. Something that wasn’t her.
And then Henry suggested sushi for dinner. My thoughts went straight to Morgan. Of course they did. To the way her eyes lit up when she’d mentioned this little place that she loved that was two blocks from the office.
Which was exactly how Henry and I ended up walking into that sushi restaurant on Saturday night.
The restaurant wasn’t large, and most of the seating was around a horseshoe-shaped counter that took up the center of the space.
A conveyor belt ran the length of the counter, carrying plates of various types of sushi that customers could grab at will.
Chefs worked behind the counter replenishing trays and clearing empty plates with practiced skill and speed.
“Damn,” Henry muttered beside me. “This place is slammed.”
It was. Every stool was filled and for a second, I thought we’d have to leave or wait a ridiculously long time for a table.
“There—two spots,” Henry said, pointing to the only empty seats at the counter. They were right at the start of the conveyor belt—prime real estate for the freshest plates.
We hurried over, and I pulled back the stool before sliding into place while Henry sat to my left. I didn’t think to look at who was on my right until I was already settled.
When I glanced that way I saw familiar dark hair. Pink glossy lips. Wide, startled green eyes already locked on mine.
Well, shit.
“Are you stalking me or something?” Morgan asked, lips pursed tight.
I almost laughed at the accusation. “Are you serious?”
She lifted a shoulder, striving for casual, but I didn’t miss the slight flush on her cheeks. “What am I supposed to think? Of all the restaurants in New York, you just happen to come into the one I’m at?”
“If I were stalking you, trust me, I’d be a hell of a lot smoother about it.” I scanned the conveyor, then glanced back at her with a grin meant to ease the tension between us. “Running into you was pure luck. Or terrible timing, depending on how you feel about me tonight.”
The corner of Morgan’s mouth twitched with a smile, exactly what I’d been aiming for. “Seriously, though, there must be hundreds of sushi places in the city.”
“Actually, there are approximately seven hundred forty-five of them,” a woman sitting on Morgan’s other side chimed in.
I recognized her from the night at the bar. She was the friend that checked in with Morgan before leaving.
I tipped my head curiously. “How do you know that?”
“Whitney is always sharing random facts,” Morgan said, reaching for a plate with a dragon roll. “It’s a whole thing with her. Never go up against her in a game of Trivial Pursuit.”
“Noted.” I snagged an Alaska roll for myself. “You told me about this place when I was setting up my office,” I reminded her.
“Oh, right,” she said, almost impishly.
“So, you two know each other?” Henry asked, his curious gaze bouncing between the two of us.
Morgan’s eyes cut toward me, a silent warning to keep my reply G-rated.
“Oh, yeah,” I drawled playfully. “We’re old friends.”
Morgan rolled her eyes. “We’re coworkers,” she explained.
Henry frowned at me. “Coworkers?”
“This is Morgan,” I said, introducing her. “I’m working with her family’s company.”
“Ahh,” he said, understanding that I meant I’d invested in their business. He shifted his attention to Morgan’s friend. “And do you already know Liam?”
“Not exactly.” She looked at me in a slightly disapproving way that told me she remembered me from that night at the bar, and was now judging me based on whatever Morgan had told her. “I’m Whitney.”
“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” Henry said smoothly.
Seriously? He’s going to flirt with her while Morgan and I sat between them?
“You must be the charming one of this duo,” Whitney said, flirting right back.
I wasn’t sure if that was an insult or not, but Morgan snorted softly as she reached for another plate.
“I like to think that’s the case,” Henry replied, and I recognized that low, smooth-talking tone of voice he used when he zeroed in on a woman that he was interested in taking home.
That seemed like a terrible idea, considering her connection to Morgan.
Things were complicated enough between us already, and I didn’t want to risk more friction if our friends hooked up and someone got their feelings hurt.
But I couldn’t figure out a way to convey to him that Whitney should be off-limits.
So, I just pointed to the conveyor belt with my chopsticks. “You better eat while we’re here. I doubt the nightclub will be serving food.”
Henry grabbed a plate of sushi without looking and continued to flirt with Whitney. She responded in kind, and I found myself looking at Morgan, who had a helpless expression on her face.
“I guess you can’t pretend I’m not here now,” I teased.
She sighed, wiping her fingers on her napkin.
“I’m sorry. I was rude when you sat down.
It just…caught me off guard. Seeing you here, especially after we almost…
” Her voice lowered, her shoulder touching mine as she leaned closer so our friends, who were absorbed in their own conversation, wouldn’t hear. “Well, you know.”
“Let’s try and forget about that,” I said too quickly, and regretted the words the moment they left my mouth.
She stilled, her fingers tightening around her chopsticks. “Right. Just like we’re supposed to forget about the night we met,” she replied.
I arched a brow. “I thought you said that night wasn’t worth thinking about?” I shot back.
Her cheeks turned pink as I called her out on pretending she wasn’t affected by our night together. “I did say that,” she admitted, her voice quieter, more sincere. “But apparently that’s easier said than done.”
I held her gaze and was equally truthful. “I shouldn’t think about it either, but I do.” Far too fucking much.
The air between us felt charged. Heavy. Like if either of us said one more honest thing, something would shift in a way that we couldn’t take back.
I cleared my throat and leaned back, trying to find solid ground. “I know this situation isn’t ideal. Me being at GalvaTech, us having to work together. But, what if we call a truce?”
Her brows rose. “A truce?”
“Yeah.” I kept my voice low, for her ears only. “The truth is, I don’t want to forget about our night together because despite the way it ended, you were more than just a random hookup. I’m still attracted to you, clearly, and I think you feel the same.”
“I do,” she said, nodding slowly, cautiously. “What are you proposing, exactly?”
I exhaled a deep breath. “I’d like to think we can at least be friends.”
The word immediately tasted wrong in my mouth.
Friends didn’t think about each other the way I thought about her.
They didn’t replay sexy conversations and heated moments in their head at two in the morning when they were tossing and turning and trying to sleep.
They didn’t notice every small detail about the other, like how her entire expression softened when she was being genuine with me.
Or how her cheeks flushed whenever she tried to pretend she wasn’t affected by our chemistry.
A friend definitely didn’t remember how it felt to be deep inside her and the sounds she made when she came.
Morgan bit her lower lip, considering my proposal. “You think being friends is possible?”
Honestly, the last thing I wanted was to be her damn friend. Not when I wanted to get my hands on her, explore every inch of her body, and watch her fall apart under me again.
“I do,” I said, my voice low and rough. “Especially for the sake of working together.” Which was a reminder of why I shouldn’t be entertaining such sinful thoughts about her in the first place. Business and pleasure were a bad mix.
She glanced down at her chopsticks, rolling them between her fingers before glancing back at me. I caught the conflicting emotions in her eyes, indicating she was having the same struggle to keep things between us strictly professional.
“Okay,” she finally said. “Friends it is.”
She held out her hand to seal the deal we’d just made. The last time we’d shaken hands had been in that conference room, when she’d pulled away like I’d burned her. Now she was extending the gesture as a peace offering.
I took her hand, her skin warm and soft in my palm. My fingers closed around hers, and my body betrayed me instantly, desire pooling low. I should have let go immediately. Made it a quick, impassive handshake.
I didn’t. Neither did she. I could feel her pulse fluttering at her wrist beneath my thumb.
“Friends,” I finally said, my tone huskier than I’d intended.
Morgan’s eyes darkened slightly, and I knew she felt it too. The connection we shared drew us together like gravity, no matter how sensible we tried to be about our situation.
Finally, she pulled her hand back and we resumed eating.
“So, how was babysitting last night?” Whitney asked Morgan, nudging her with her elbow to get her attention.
Morgan smiled at her friend. “It was fun. Gracie is so cute, and I can’t wait until Becca has the baby. My little nephew will be here before we know it, and Gracie is so excited she’s already talking about how she’s going to help take care of the baby.”
“Is this Parker’s daughter?” I asked, remembering that Samuel mentioned his stepson had a little girl and a baby boy on the way.
“Yes.” Morgan’s eyes sparkled with delight. “She’s three years old and a little angel.”
“I’m close with my nieces, too,” I said, sharing something we had in common—a tight family bond. “My brother Noah has a set of twins, and they are probably the coolest kids ever.”
Morgan laughed, a much more light-hearted sound that seemed to fill my chest with warmth. “Not that you’re biased or anything.”
“Maybe,” I admitted, and shrugged. “But you should meet these girls. Dylan is a girly girl. She loves dance and all things pink. And glitter. The girl is always covered in it, I swear. Every time I drive her somewhere, I’m vacuuming the stuff out of my car for days.
And her sister Dakota is so smart, although she has this slightly disturbing habit of talking about death all the time. ”
Morgan tilted her head to the side. “Okay, you’re going to have to explain that one.”
“Her mom, Charlie, is an archeologist. Dakota completely idolizes her and is fixated on the human remains side of her mom’s occupation. So, she’s always dropping these random facts about death.”
Morgan watched me for a moment, a smile on her lips. “Wow. Your face really lights up when you talk about them.”
It struck me how easy things suddenly felt between us. A simple truce, and the tension from earlier had slipped away, replaced by something relaxed and comfortable. The moment felt almost like…a date.
Which it wasn’t.
I reached for a plate coming toward us on the conveyor belt at the same exact moment Morgan reached for it, too. Our fingers brushed, and we both pulled away.
“You go ahead,” I said, indicating that she should take the plate.
She grabbed the dish and slid two of the four sushi rolls onto mine before glancing at me with a smile. “We’ll share.”
And that made it feel even more like a date.
The urge to lean in close to her again was difficult to resist, so I shoved a sushi roll into my mouth and turned to Henry.
While we finished eating, I talked to my friend about our favorite football teams—the Giants for me and the Buffalo Bills for him—while the girls chatted on my other side.
It was fully dark outside when we finished dinner and it was time to head to the club. I covered the bill for all four of us despite Morgan’s protests, leaving a large tip for the staff to split as I slid off my stool.
I was ready to put distance between Morgan and me because being near her confused me…
and made me crave things I swore I’d stopped believing in years ago.
I was starting to feel emotions I hadn’t allowed myself to entertain since Ivy.
Like wanting to trust someone again, wanting to show the parts of myself I kept guarded.
Wanting something real…and being terrified of what it would cost me if I truly opened myself up to her.
“Come on,” I said to Henry. “Let’s get going.”
But my friend didn’t pick up on the reason for my urgency. He took his time sliding off his stool and putting his jacket on, all while Morgan and Whitney were gathering their things, too. Then, he opened his big, fat mouth.
“Why don’t you girls join us at the club?” he asked.
Fuck.
Morgan hesitated, but Whitney beamed at Henry. “That sounds like so much fun!”
“I don’t know,” Morgan said more hesitantly, glancing at her friend. “I thought this was supposed to be a girls’ night.”
“Yeah, but dancing and drinks and letting loose? That’s exactly what I need to destress,” Whitney said, while simultaneously batting her lashes and pouting. “Let’s go, please?”
Morgan sighed, then glanced back at us. “Okay, sure, so long as we’re not imposing.”
“Not at all,” Henry replied, his gaze on Whitney. “Right, Liam?”
Saying no wasn’t an option, not without looking like an asshole, and the last thing I needed was to draw more attention to whatever was happening between us.
“Yeah,” I said, forcing a smile that felt tighter than I wanted it to. “The more, the merrier.”
Henry shot me a satisfied look, completely oblivious to the fact that he’d just thrown fuel on a fire I was barely managing to contain, despite my friend zone pact with Morgan.
I slid my hands into the pockets of my jacket, resigned to spending the night with the one woman who tested my self-control, and was completely off limits.