Time’s Surrender (The Price of Love #2)

Prologue

prologue

. . .

Meghan

“What are you doing here?” My voice was hoarse from sleep and the lingering effects of last night’s champagne. I stared at Wick, my heart pounding beneath my silk robe as I took in the concerned lines on his handsome face.

He held up a paper bag, and I caught the scent of buttery chocolate croissants. “I come bearing gifts.”

I swallowed, acutely conscious of my state of undress and the man still lounging in my bed. “That’s really sweet of you, but?—”

“Am I interrupting something?” Wick cut me off at the exact moment Marco strolled into the foyer. His unbuttoned shirt hung over his broad shoulders, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his olive-toned chest. He carried his shoes in one hand and jacket in the other—the picture of carefree dishevelment. His dark hair was rumpled, as if he’d just rolled out of my bed, which, of course, he had.

As he came up behind me, his sculpted pecs brushed against my back, sending a shiver down my spine .

Marco gave Wick an appraising look. “Boyfriend?” His tone was light, but the question was loaded with insinuation.

“I’m her brother’s best friend. Who the fuck are you?”

Marco smirked. “Just a good time.”

“Marco was just leaving.” I shot him a pointed look, silently pleading with him to make a graceful exit. He winked at me as he sauntered to the elevator.

“See you later, gattina.”

Wick quirked an eyebrow at me, and I shrugged one shoulder. Then he leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. My cool demeanor faltered.

Will he ever stop having this effect on me?

“Sorry I missed the gala last night, but I’ve got croissants.” He held up the bag again. I gestured for him to enter the penthouse, and he headed for the kitchen and set the bag on the counter. Comfortable after years of frequent visits, he grabbed plates and napkins and began making coffee.

“How’s your sister?” I asked.

Wick paused, then scowled. “She lost the baby.”

“Oh, Wick. You should go—go be with your family.”

“Nah, they need some space right now, and I need the distraction.”

“I’m so sorry, Wick. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for all of you.” I reached out to touch his arm, stopping his movements. Even that simple gesture felt painfully intimate.

He took a deep breath and met my gaze, his hazel eyes swirling with emotions. “I just feel so helpless, you know? Like there’s nothing I can do to take away her pain.”

“I know.” I nodded. But I didn’t—not really. Nothing so heavy had ever happened to me. My problems seemed trivial in comparison. I searched for the right words. “Sometimes the best thing we can do is just be there. Show them they’re not alone.”

He gave me a wan smile. “You’re right. As usual.”

“I’m always right. Haven’t you learned that by now?”

He chuckled, the sound warming me from the inside out. “How could I forget?”

I sank onto one of the plush velvet stools at the granite-topped kitchen island. We lapsed into a comfortable silence. Wick continued to move around my kitchen with an easy familiarity, his broad shoulders straining against the crisp fabric of his button-down as he reached for the coffee mugs on the top shelf.

He poured the coffee, adding a splash of cream to mine exactly how I liked it. It felt so natural to have him in my space, moving around my kitchen like he belonged.

“I figured you could use a pick-me-up after last night’s festivities,” he said.

“You know me too well.”

“Thirteen years of friendship will do that.” His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, and a traitorous ache rose in my chest. I mentally shook myself. I couldn’t let my mind wander down that path. Wick was my friend. That’s all he could ever be. Wanting more was a recipe for heartache.

“Meggy? You okay?” His voice pulled me from my spiraling thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry, just lost in thought for a minute there.” I took the proffered mug, relishing the warmth against my palms.

“Anything you want to talk about?”

God, if only I could tell him what was really on my mind—that I was hopelessly, desperately in love with him. That I had been for years. That seeing him, being near him, was the best and most painful part of my life because we could never be together the way I wanted.

But I couldn’t say any of that.

Because I was Emmett’s little sister. Because we were friends . And because Wick didn’t do relationships—at least not anymore.

I shook my head and pasted on a smile. “Nothing important. Just mentally going over my to-do list for the day.”

“Ah yes, the busy life of Meghan Price, socialite extraordinaire.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh please. You’re one to talk, Mr. Hotshot VP.”

“Hey, I never claimed not to be busy. I just think it’s funny that your ‘work’ mostly consists of shopping, lunching, and party planning.”

“I’ll have you know that party planning is very stressful!” I huffed in mock outrage. He wasn’t serious. He was aware of how hard I worked. “And I do plenty of actual work with the charity committees.”

“Okay, okay, I take it back! Forgive me for disparaging your very important work, Your Majesty.”

“You’re forgiven. This time. But watch yourself, mister.”

This was what I loved most about my friendship with Wick—how easy it was. We could go from serious conversations to playful banter in the blink of an eye. He understood me in a way few others did.

Which only made it harder to hide my true feelings.

I busied myself with picking at my croissant, tearing off small pieces and popping them into my mouth. Anything to avoid meeting Wick’s eyes.

After a few moments, he cleared his throat. “So, that’s the infamous Marco, huh?”

“Infamous? I wouldn’t go that far.”

How does he even know Marco?

“Oh, I’ve heard all about him. Em said he’s quite the playboy, from what he’s picked up from Callie.”

“Whatever. He’s just a friend.”

“A friend who spends the night and strolls out of your bedroom half-dressed?”

My cheeks warmed. “Okay, so he’s a friend I occasionally sleep with. So what? It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Right.” His tone was carefully neutral, but I sensed his disapproval.

Irritation flared. Where did he get off judging me? I wasn’t some blushing virgin. I was a grown woman who could sleep with whoever I damn well pleased.

Except the one man I wanted.

“Look, my sex life is really none of your business,” I said, more sharply than I intended.

Wick looked taken aback. “You’re right, it’s not. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

Guilt pricked at me. Wick wasn’t trying to be judgmental or controlling. He was only looking out for me, like always.

I sighed. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You’re just being a good friend.”

His eyes softened. “I’m just worried about you, Meg. I don’t want to see you get hurt. ”

If only he knew he was the one with the power to hurt me most.

I forced a smile. “I appreciate that, Wick. But I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

He searched my face for a long moment, then nodded. “Okay. But I’m always here if you need me.”

“I know.” And I did. Wick had been my rock for as long as I could remember. He was the one person I could always count on, no matter what. Even if he’d never seen me as anything more than a friend, I was grateful to have him in my life.

A glance at the clock reminded me I had a packed schedule for the day ahead. As much as I would have loved to spend the whole day here with Wick, I needed to get moving.

“I hate to kick you out, but I really need to get ready. I have a committee meeting this morning.”

He set his empty mug on the counter. “No worries, I should get going anyway. I told my mom I’d come by the hospital later to check on Liv.”

“Give them all my love, okay? And let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“I will. Thanks, Meg.” He wrapped me in a hug, enveloping me in his warmth and the familiar scent of his cologne. I closed my eyes, allowing myself this small moment to pretend that this embrace meant more than it did.

All too soon, he pulled away, leaving me cold and bereft. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. As I walked him to the door, my heart grew heavier with each step. Saying goodbye to Wick always left me feeling empty, as though a piece of me was leaving with him .

He paused in the open doorway, turning back to face me. “Meg?”

“Yeah?”

“You’d tell me if something was wrong, right? If you weren’t okay?”

His sincere concern nearly undid me. I wanted to fling myself into his arms and pour out the feelings I’d been bottling up for so long. But I couldn’t. Our friendship was too important to risk ruining it with my unrequited love. I summoned a reassuring smile. “Of course I would. But I’m fine, Wick. Really. You don’t need to worry about me.”

He studied me a moment longer, then sighed. “Okay. I’ll talk to you later, then.”

“Bye, Wick.”

I shut the door behind him and leaned against it, my eyes stinging with tears. Loving him was like holding on to a hot coal. The longer I clung to it, the more it burned me. But I didn’t know how to let it go.

I drew a shuddering breath and headed to my bedroom to get dressed. I had a role to play—the polished socialite, confident and unflappable.

My phone buzzed on the vanity. Glancing down, I saw Marco’s name flash across the screen. For a brief, petty moment, I considered ignoring it. I was still smarting at his casual dismissal of our night together in front of Wick.

It was unfair of me. I didn’t want anything serious with Marco, either. I had no right to be upset with him for not pretending there was more between us.

My thoughts were a jumbled mess. Instead of untangling them, I decided meddling in my big brother’s love life was the perfect distraction. So I texted Callie to meet for breakfast.

But an hour later, when we were talking over coffee, I realized our situations were more similar than I cared to analyze. Both worried about putting our hearts on the line. Both worried about what everyone else might think.