Although he’d intended to stay up all night, Drake eventually fell into a fitful sleep from which he awoke with a start. He’d slept for longer than he would’ve thought; judging by how tired he felt, he would’ve guessed he’d slept maybe 4 hours, yet it had been more than twice that long.
Despite the fact that he could barely open his bleary eyes, he was glad for the late hour, as he was sure to avoid Riley. She had undoubtedly been woken up by Maxwell at an ungodly hour, and had possibly even made it to the Beaumonts’ estate by now.
He, along with Liam and Bastien, would not be making their way there until the next day. He was glad for one more day at the manor, knowing he would not be seeing Riley. Or worse, Riley and Liam together.
He tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes, but in closing them only succeeded in making himself sleepier. Cold shower it is, then. He hopped in and let out a gasp full of regret as soon as the freezing water hit his back, not just because of how unpleasant it was, but also because being more awake only meant more inner turmoil.
What the hell happened last night? Addams, she… the things she said… Could she actually feel the same way?
The arguing little voice was back.
Don’t be ridiculous. We’ve been through this. Her other choice is Liam. It’s cute that the thought even crossed your mind. Or maybe just pathetic.
He shook his head, washing his body at a furious speed, eager to be out of the shower and drown his thoughts out somehow.
One thing is clear, he thought as he wrapped a towel around his waist, I can’t trust myself around her. I have to avoid her until this crush goes away or until… she’s engaged to Liam, then I’ll have no choice but to accept it.
Seems like half the court’s gonna heartbroken. He gave a wry smile at that. Hell, even Tariq! He was grateful when that train of thought led him back to Riley’s odd door. He thought it was probably nothing, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. Moreover, reporting it to Bastien gave him something to do, other than agonizing over a crush like a dumb teenager.
He found Bastien at the manor’s small archery range, practicing. As he came into view, he loosed an arrow, which flew wildly over the target. Bastien threw his bow down to the dirt in frustration and kicked at it.
“Whoa, what’s that poor bow done to you? It’s not its fault you suck.”
Bastien wheeled around with a glare so fierce, Drake put his hands up and backtracked, “Hey, hey, you know I’m kidding! Besides, who would I be to say that? I’m the worst at archery.”
“That you are,” replied Bastien drily, turning around to pick his bow up.
“Bastien, I have to tell you something.”
The man only grunted in response, already nocking another arrow.
Someone’s cooperative.
Drake cleared his throat and moved closer, determined to make himself heard.
“Right. So last night, I was in Addam’s room–”
He cut himself off as Bastien let the arrow go, hitting the target square in the middle. He whistled, impressed.
“That was one hell of a shot. I definitely take back what I said earlier.”
A tense silence followed and somehow, although Bastien still had his back to him, he could tell he’d arched a judgmental eyebrow.
“What?” Drake said defensively. “I had a good reason to be there, okay? I’m not gonna get into it but I did…”
The silence continued until he could no longer bear it.
“Look! Whatever, okay?! Nothing happened so you can stop with the third degree!”
Bastien scoffed softly at that and finally turned to look at him, a small smile on his face.
“All right, I’ll stop. You were saying? You were in Lady Riley’s room and then what happened?”
“Nothing happened!” he exploded. Bastien looked strangely at him and Drake felt his neck grow hot. “Oh, uh, you meant what did I want to tell you,” he said in a smaller voice.
Bastien nodded.
“There was no lock on her door.”
There was another silence and then Bastien shrugged.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Drake asked, incensed at not being taken seriously.
“It means I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Drake had reached the same conclusion on his own from the start, but he was so irritated by Bastien’s nonchalance about the whole thing that he was suddenly arguing passionately; it was almost involuntary.
“How the hell do you figure? Hers was the only door without a lock, okay? Don’t you think that’s weird?!”
Bastien shrugged again and Drake resisted the urge to shove him.
“Evidently, that is not how it should be and I’ll bring it to the staff’s attention, but I’m certain it’s not important. Come to think of it, they remodeled the manor recently, they might have simply forgotten to change that door handle.”
Bastien’s reasonable tone penetrated Drake’s layers of annoyance and calmed him. But he wasn’t going down without a fight.
“I still think you should check on it.”
“Drake, you know I will,” said Bastien, picking up his bow and arrow. Once again, his shot missed by a wide margin.
Drake snorted.
“Well, then, I’ll let you get back to practice. You clearly need it.”
He narrowly avoided being whacked by the bow Bastien swung at him and, still chuckling, he strolled back to the manor. A whole Riley-free and thus, jealousy-free day stretched ahead of him and he didn’t yet know what to do with it. He felt a twinge of sadness at the prospect of not seeing her today and mentally smacked himself.
So you’re upset if your see her, upset if you don’t? Stop whining, idiot. Maybe you could find Lady Kiara and pick up where you left off…
With more of a destination in mind – even if it was a person rather than a place – he strode towards the manor. Almost at the threshold, his phone went off in his pocket. He picked it out and saw “Maxwell” on the screen. He groaned.
“Dude. I get one day to rest from you. One. D–”
“Drake! Shut up for a second!”
He was so shocked that Maxwell had told him to shut up, that he did.
“Didn’t you get my texts? I need you, it’s an emergency!”
Drake pinched his forehead. “Maxwell, if this is in any way party related–”
“It’s not! I mean, it is, but it’s important, I promise!”
“Well, spit it out!”
He heard Maxwell sigh on the other end. “The… the caterers quit on us. The whole staff, in fact.”
Drake gaped at his phone. “Shit. Is it, um, because of the money thing?”
Maxwell took a second to answer, “Yes.”
“Damn, Maxwell, I’m sorry. So how many people have you recruited?”
His question was met with more silence.
“I’m the only one, huh?”
“Yeah, I asked Tariq and a couple of other guys but…”
Maxwell sounded sick with worry and Drake felt hot anger rise in his throat. Those fucking nobles. Won’t move a finger to help even one of their own.
Perhaps sensing what Drake’s reaction would be, Maxwell hurried to say, “It’s okay, though, don’t worry! I’m confident we’ll get this done between you, Riley and I! We’ll be unstoppable! We just need a team name and–”
“If you say secret identities I won’t go.”
“Right. I’ll see you here then? There’s a whiskey with your name on it!”
He hadn’t really needed the whiskey to convince him – his friend needed help and that was enough for him – but it was a nice bonus.
“Yeah, be there in like 2 hours.”
“Thank youuuu! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“I’m gonna hang up now.”
He did so and raced up the stairs. Halfway to his room, a realization stopped him short. Just me, Maxwell and Addams. Shit. Goddamn it. If nobles weren’t the fucking worst I wouldn’t have to go, but I can’t leave Maxwell hanging.
He threw all his stuff into his bag and hurried to one of the Jeeps that were always available for the royal family and its inner circle.
Before backing out of the manor, he quickly texted Liam, “Heading down today. Tell Bastien”
He knew Liam would be too busy to reply any time soon, so he put his phone down and sped to House Beaumont. He blasted music all the way there, hoping to quiet his conflicting thoughts, torn between excitement and dread.
He parked outside the magnificent estate and was going to text Maxwell that he had arrived, when the doors swung open. Bertrand stood there with his arms crossed and beckoned him with a move of his head.
At your service, he thought, rolling his eyes. He slammed the door of the Jeep and sauntered over to Bertrand, taking his time once he noticed the noble tapping his foot impatiently.
“Drake,” he said curtly, making a decent attempt at hiding his irritation.
Drake had been about to answer with a short, “Bertrand,” until he noticed the dark shadows under Bertrand’s eyes. His face looked pale and drawn; it was obvious he was under a lot of stress. Okay, okay, I’ll throw him a bone.
“Duke Ramsford,” he bowed his head. He thought he caught a glimpse of Bertrand looking pleasantly surprised before he rearranged his features into a neutral – if exhausted – expression.
“Thank you for coming. Truly. I hope we can trust you to be discreet.”
Drake’s nostrils flared. Who does he think I am? A noble?
He answered, “Of course,” and pushed his way into the house before he lost his temper.
He went straight into the kitchen, the setting for many a drunken midnight snack with Liam and Maxwell during the latter’s legendary parties. He pushed the door open calling, “Hello? Anyone in here?”
Riley looked up from the counter, where she’d been arranging ingredients and exclaimed, “Drake!” her eyes shining.
Drake’s heart leapt to his throat. Holy shit, she still looks happy to see me. The fact was, after last night’s events he hadn’t been sure how she would react. Would she regret everything? Was it just a moment of temporary vulnerability?
Maxwell, meanwhile, and to no one’s surprise, was chanting, “Drake! Drake! Drake! You came!”
Warmth swelled in his chest but he played it down, “Yeah, yeah. Calm down, it’s not that big of a deal.”
“Yes, it is! We are friends!” Maxwell bounded up to him and crushed him in hug.
Cheek to cheek, Drake groaned, “You promised me whiskey.”
“Friendship whiskey!”
Maxwell finally let him go and got him a glass of whiskey, which Drake waved away for the moment.
From the counter, Riley said, “Drake, you made it!”
I wish she’d stop sounding so excited. It’s almost enough to make me think…
He raised his eyebrows, “Yeah, yeah, behold your knight in shining armor. Alright, I’m here now. What needs to be done?”
“Riley and I are plating some fancy appetizers,” explained Maxwell, gesturing to a row of neatly plated hors d’oeuvres. “Come join us…”
Avoiding Riley’s gaze, he went to stand next to Maxwell, who quickly demonstrated the steps to prepare their invention. After making a few, Drake went into autopilot. Knowing his mind would drift to places he’d rather not visit, he resorted to something he normally despised: small talk.
“So how was the jamboree yesterday?”
“So fun!” provided Maxwell. Thank God you can always count on good ole Maxwell for a distraction.
Not needing much prompting at all, Maxwell had launched into a full and detailed account of his previous day.
“–so close to winning! But then Liam was called away because of the reporter, so I went with him. Still, my apple-bobbing skills are unrivaled.”
Drake whipped around to look at Maxwell. “What did you say?”
“Oh, come on, Drake, you know you could never beat me! I’m amazing at bobbing–”
“No, before that.”
“Oh, a guard came looking for Liam to tell him about the reporter who snuck in.”
“That’s impossible. No one ever sneaks in!”
“I know! It would have been more impressive if she hadn’t been caught and thrown out though…”
Drake’s mind was reeling. How had a reporter snuck in? Even more importantly, why hadn’t Bastien told him when he’d talked to him this morning? He always informed him of these things.
His thoughts were interrupted by Maxwell’s delighted, “Oooh, these are shaping up! I think we need a good name for these though. Maybe ‘Jewels of the Sea’…”
He looked at their creations lovingly.
“Why not name it the Charade of the Season?” jumped in Riley.
“Heh,” Drake couldn’t help chuckling at that. Such a dork.
“Oh, snarky. I like it.” Maxwell nodded his approval and took their full trays to the fridge.
He dusted off his hands. “There, that should be enough to get us started. Now then, on to the main course!”
Drake raised a skeptical eyebrow, “Do you even know how to cook from scratch?”
“Well…” Maxwell stalled. His hand suddenly went to his pocket and he checked his phone. He let out a sigh of relief.
“Oh, thank heavens. Bertrand found another company to handle the main courses. Let me tell you, nobody would’ve wanted the science experiments I was about to produce.”
Drake wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead, “Dodged a bullet there.”
“What’s next on the ‘We’re in Panic Mode’ list?” asked Riley, hands on her hips.
Maxwell scratched his chin, “Hmm… I should stay here and clean the kitchen, but Bertrand might need help in the main hall. Last I saw of him, he was looking for cleaning supplies…”
“Oh boy.” Riley tried to make eye contact with Drake, presumably so they could make fun of Bertrand’s helplessness together, but he refused. In fact, this was the perfect opportunity to make sure they didn’t spend more time together than was strictly necessary.
“I’ll stay here and help Maxwell. We’ll come find you once we finish down here.”
Riley’s shoulders slumped, but she nodded and left the kitchen.
Drake and Maxwell got to work in – I can’t believe this! – silence. He couldn’t remember the last time Maxwell had been quiet for this long… not counting chewing time, and even then, not always.
He looked at his friend more closely and saw shadows under his eyes deeper even than his high-strung brother’s. His brow furrowed.
“Hey, man, you okay?”
“Of course! Why do you ask?”
“Well, for one thing, you look like shit.” Maxwell glared daggers at him. Drake shrugged and carried on, “For another, you’ve been wiping that spotless cabinet for the last 5 minutes.”
Maxwell looked down at his circling hand, only now becoming aware of it. He stopped, put the rag over his shoulder and sighed.
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. It’s funny; we really are in a tight spot money-wise, but I’m more worried about Bertrand.”
“I can see why; he looks like shit, too.”
Maxwell snapped his rag at him, barely brushing his back just enough to sting.
“Ow! You dick! What was that for?”
“Beaumonts never look like shit.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right! Us commoners look like shit; you nobles look like feces. Is that better?”
Judging by Maxwell chasing him around trying to hit him again, it wasn’t. Drake was embarrassed by how much he enjoyed just being a guy, doing stupid guy things with his friend. Of course, it took them twice as long as it should have to clean the kitchen, between fits of laughter and rag snapping battles, but they eventually got it done.
“Bertrand just texted me to go help Riley dust a few things. He says you should go to the ballroom and start setting the tables.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” grumbled Drake.
As before, the work was not distracting enough and he was dangerously close to thinking about a certain someone, wearing a certain undergarment. He didn’t think he’d ever been thankful for Bertrand’s presence before. As soon as he stepped into the ballroom, he inspected his work, nitpicked a few things here and there, and chided him for not going fast enough. It was just was Drake needed.
For the next 20 minutes, he worked diligently under Bertrand’s watchful eyes; he couldn’t have spared a moment to think about Riley if he’d wanted to.
That is, until, “It’s looking great!”
The doors opened and in stepped Riley and Maxwell. Drake felt his face muscles twitch and fought the stupid smile that seemed to accompany her into every room she entered. Dammit, it’s like I forget how beautiful she is and then every time it hits me like sucker punch.
He busied himself with the floral arrangement he was working on when they’d arrived and distantly heard Bertrand assigning activities.
“Lady Riley, if you could assist Drake?”
No!
“Sure!” Riley said brightly and headed over to his table.
She admired his arrangement and teased, “Why, Drake, I never knew you had such flair with peonies…”
Drake shook his head “The things I do for you people…”
He thought of Maxwell’s tired face and decided to voice his concern. Well, since we’re stuck together, I might as well ask her opinion. Plus it gives us something harmless to talk about.
He lowered his voice. “Hey… anything about any of this seem off to you?”
“Huh?”
From across the ballroom, they heard the brothers arguing.
“What I don’t get is that the money was in our account yesterday!” Bertrand was whisper-shouting.
“I… I don’t know anything about our finances, Bertrand! You know that!”
Maxwell’s eyes were glued to his feet as Bertrand continued to rail on him, “You might not know anything, but you’re still causing me problems! You’re the only other person with access to that account!”
“I…” Maxwell stammered.
“This better not be to pay off one of your idiotic credit card purchases. Last month you said you spent three thousand on a jet ski. What is it this time?”
“I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Maxwell looked like he was barely holding it together. You have to feel for the guy.
“You’re lucky I don’t have time to deal with you right now,” huffed Bertrand, then turned on his heel and left. Maxwell stood, dazed and alone for a second, before following Bertrand out.
Drake raised an eyebrow at Riley. “Well? Doesn’t it seem like something weird is going on?”
She pursed her lips. “It seemed like there’s something suspicious going on in House Beaumont.”
“Exactly.”
“I wonder what’s actually going on with their money issues…” Her lips were still pursed and her brow furrowed. He’d never seen her look so pensive.
Thank God! Something to focus on!
“I’m going to find out what it is. Besides, it sounds like Maxwell might be in over his head this time. I think he really needs my help… But knowing him, he’d never ask.”
Riley stared, confused, “I didn’t realize you and Maxwell were that close.”
“After all the time I’ve spent with him in the past weeks, I’m starting to find him less annoying,” he smiled.
“High praise,” she replied sarcastically.
“Besides, we scrubbed the kitchen cabinets together. I think I’m invested now.”
Okay, this is fine. We can have silly, meaningless conversations like this. Yes. It’s gonna be fine.
Riley chuckled, “Sure…” Her face abruptly sobered and he noticed she was wringing her hands. She licked her lips and mumbled, “Actually, Drake… there’s something else we should talk about. About last night…”
Nope. No no no, we’re not doing this. I mean, come on, she has to realize how wrong this is, right? I have to give her an out.
He chose to play dumb, “Last night?”
Riley licked her lips once again and spoke so softly, Drake had to strain to hear what she said, “What you said… about how you feel…”
“Riley,” he cut her off, using her first name so she’d know he was serious, “I don’t think we should talk about this here.”
“Then somewhere private?” She looked at him, crushing hope in her eyes.
He swallowed, shaking his head frantically, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” she looked so hurt, self-hatred rose up like lava inside him.
He ran a hand down his face. “The way you look at me sometimes, Addams…” His voice caught. It’s now or never. Tell the truth for once, if only so you won’t hurt her.
“If we’re alone again together, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop myself from doing something stupid.”
And I would never forgive myself. Liam deserves better.
“Drake…”
She moved her hand towards his on the table when, “Drake! Riley!”
She was so startled, when she put her hand down she knocked her fingers against the table.
“Eep! Er, I mean, yes?”
“Why are you two standing around chatting like ladies at an afternoon tea?” barked Bertrand. “You both said you’d help, so help!”
Drake was torn between relief at having been interrupted and wanting to bite Bertrand’s pompous head off. What a prick.
“Right away, Duke Ramsford,” said Drake with disdain.
“Yeah. Of course.”
Okay, that’s it. I didn’t come here to be cornered by Addams or to be ordered around by Bertrand. I’m gonna find out what the hell is going on.
He waited for Bertrand to leave the room and the slinked off to where he knew the study was.
He had just started rummaging through a drawer when Riley crept in and asked, “Drake, what are you doing back here?”
He managed to refrain from jumping, but he did shut the drawer closed immediately, scared it might be one of the brothers.
He turned to her. “Addams! So, you followed me, huh?” At this point Drake felt like maybe he was literally turning into two people, as he hadn’t been able to have only one feeling at a time all day. Right now, he was pleased she had followed him and worried about the conversation that might ensue.
He gestured around the room. “This is the Beaumont study.”
“How’d you even know this was here?”
“I used to come to this house a lot, back in the day. We ran in the same circles, being friends with Liam and all that…” explained Drake.
“My sister, Savannah,” Goddamn, it’s hard to talk about her, “used to think the Beaumont brothers were the epitome of courtly life. She practically worshipped them.” He rolled his eyes.
“And you didn’t,” said Riley knowingly, moving closer.
Drake allowed himself a small smile. “I found them to be more of an acquired taste.”
“You mean they both annoyed the hell out of you,” laughed Riley.
“Yup. Pretty much,” he chuckled. “Whenever I got tired of their antics, I’d sneak off and come here to their study.”
“So you were the life of the party even back then?” she elbowed him.
“Ha ha. Whenever Savannah found me here, she would try to get me to join in on the fun.” He smiled more, reminiscing about the girl his little sister had been, always eager to see the best in people, to get along with everyone; the exact opposite of him, basically. He sighed. “I don’t even know where she is now.”
“You don’t have any way of finding her?” Riley’s voice was thick with concern.
He shook his head. “She stopped answering my calls and deleted all of her social media. Wherever she is… all I know is that she doesn’t want to be found. Even by me. And you know what?”
He swallowed against the knot in his throat and spoke what he knew to be true, “I don’t blame her. I failed her. I don’t even know how, but I know that I failed her. I didn’t protect her from… from whatever it was that made her leave.”
He gripped the back of a chair until his knuckles were white, willing himself to get it together. He felt a hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. He didn’t think it would make him feel as much better as it did.
Riley murmured, “Drake, maybe she just needs to deal with this on her own.”
“Maybe. But she’s my little sister…” His voice cracked, “I helped her learn how to tie her shoes. It kills me to think there’s something she didn’t think she could trust me with.”
“Do you have any idea what it was about?”
Again, he shook his head. There’s so much I don’t know. “She was so happy… and then one day, after one of these Beaumont parties, she wasn’t. She locked herself in her room, and I could hear her crying. A couple days later, all of her things were packed, and she was just… gone.” His eyes felt dangerously wet, so he decided that was plenty of soul-baring for today. “But… that’s enough about that…”
He unclenched his hands and straightened up. Riley dropped her hand. There was an uncomfortable silence. The first time he hadn’t enjoyed a quiet moment with her. There was too much unspoken on his side; trying to make small talk with her would be like swimming through molasses.
Luckily, Riley didn’t seem to feel that way. “So, this is the Beaumont study…” She looked around. “I expected more party hats. I mean, Maxwell lives here, so I figured…” she trailed off.
Drake knew his best bet was to follow this innocent lane of conversation. “It ismore on the serious side, isn’t it? I don’t think they changed it after their father passed away. The former Duke Ramsford made it a point to decorate it with the family’s accomplishments.”
He pointed at the walls, covered as they were in first place ribbons and photos of beaming teams holding trophies; and the shelves, which could not have borne the weight of another trophy or medal.
“As you can see, the Beaumont family has a lot to brag about.” He nodded to a prominent picture of Maxwell and Bertrand on horseback.
“I guess Bertrand and Maxwell had a habit of winning.”
“A family tradition.”
Riley grimaced, “I can see why Bertrand is always so worried about upholding the Beaumont name.”
“Their house goes back a long way. I could never pity a rich kid like Bertrand, but I come very close to it sometimes,” Drake agreed. “He’s got a lot of pressure on him. I think his parents gave him a lot of talks about his heritage and Cordonia… And it’s not like Maxwell’s much help with anything.”
“Maxwell tries,” Riley defended him. “Sometimes.”
“Heh. Maxwell’s always been more interested in having fun. He couldn’t care less about prestige and honor. That’s one of the things I like about him, actually.” He smiled at that and forgot about his resolve to avoid eye contact.
Once he made that fatal mistake, he couldn’t tear his eyes from her. Oh God, I missed the fucking sight of her! I’ve reached peak pathetic.
He was so busy berating himself, he hadn’t registered that her gaze was lingering just as much. When he did, he found it was more than he could bear and he looked down.
She stretched out her hand and touched his arm. He kept his eyes fixed on the hardwood floor.
“Drake, we need to talk about ‘us,’” she said, nervous but firm.
Still staring down, Drake answered in monotone, “There is no ‘us.’”
It felt like someone was squeezing his heart. He knew that, but saying it out loud somehow made it more real… and final.
“I don’t think you mean that,” she near-whispered.
Drake finally looked at her and steeled himself to say everything that had been churning in his head for months. All his guilt, his resentment, his jealousy, his love, all of it.
“The truth is that my best friend is head over heels for you. So it doesn’t really matter how I feel. Because that’s where it has to end. Liam is the only one who’s ever looked out for me. The only one who gave a damn about me after my dad… After he was gone,” his voice trembled embarrassingly.
He took a deep breath and held on to his anger instead, “The rest of the court was ready to cast us out, never mind that he died protecting the royal family.”
Riley’s hand was still on his arm. When he paused she caressed him soothingly, “Drake… I’m sorry. That’s terrible.”
“I didn’t care much,” he shrugged, “but my mom and Savannah… it would’ve devastated them. Liam made sure we had a place at the palace as long as we wanted one. I could never betray him by falling for his girl.” A little late for that. But I could never do something about it.
“So that’s what it all comes down to, Addams.” He moved away from her and her warm touch. “Whatever I feel… it doesn’t matter.”
The corners of his mouth pulled down and he rubbed his hand against it, hoping to at least get through this with his dignity.
Riley stepped close to him once more. Damn, she’s stubborn. “Drake, what about how I feel?”
Drake inhaled so sharply it was almost a gasp. How she–? Can she mean–?
He couldn’t form coherent thoughts so he wasn’t sure why he decided speaking would be any better. “How you feel… of course I care how you feel. I just didn’t think… I mean… what are you saying, Addams?”
She looked him straight in the eyes and with merely hint of her previous nervousness, said, “I’m saying, I want you.”
Drake’s heart had already been beating faster than usual, but at those words it positively hammered in his chest.
What the fuck do I do? How do I resist that?
He balled his fists and clamped his jaw, trying to force himself to become ice.
“Oh, Addams…” he groaned through his clenched jaw, “you shouldn’t have said that.”
Her eyes were so intense that his jaw went slack. His fists still closed, he took in a ragged breath, every fiber of his being in contradiction; between not moving a muscle, or closing the short distance between them now.
“Drake…”
As it turned out, his internal battle was useless; he’d forgotten to take one very important thing into account: Riley did whatever she wanted. Before he could so much as take a breath, she was standing closer than she’d ever been.
And then she was even closer, impossibly so. He could have counted her eyelashes. It took him an instant to understand she was standing on her tiptoes. Then she pressed her lips to his softly and he knew he was lost.
He was too startled to kiss her back, so she withdrew and searched his face, obviously worried that he hadn’t wanted to kiss her. Looking back, Drake would find that absolutely hilarious.
He raised his hand – his fists seemed to have loosened of their own accord – and traced her jawline with his thumb.
He uttered the only word he could possibly think of, “Addams…”
“Yes?” she smiled up at him and the tiny part of his defense that was still up, crumbled then and there.
He let himself want her the way his whole being had been urging him to since practically the day they met.
“I’ve wanted this for so long…” He could barely get the words out through the surge of desire that rushed through him.
She was still standing close, but now that she’d kissed him, he didn’t think anything would be close enough. He pulled her to him tightly and kissed her hungrily, blessedly not thinking for the first time in months.
Her mouth opened and then her tongue was on his and he was so far gone. His hands roamed her back before settling on her hips, which he gripped hard. She’d been running her hands through his hair but now she moved them to his chest. She grabbed and bunched up the fabric of his shirt, trying to get him closer than physics would allow.
Drake broke the kiss, feeling like he had to come up for air. He was breathing as heavily as if he’d just run a marathon.
Riley touched his cheek tenderly. “Drake…”
He had never loved his name more than when he heard it coming out of her swollen lips. Swollen from kissing him.
He leaned down, his lips brushing her ear – he noted with pleasure that she shivered – and whispered, “I didn’t think this would ever be more than a fantasy…”
She looked up again and their lips were almost brushing. With a smile, she asked, “Are you saying that you’ve thought about this before?”
If it hadn’t been for fear of ruining the moment, Drake would have laughed, “More than I’d like to admit.”
He kissed her again, only by now, his thoughts had had time to catch up to him. This is the last time you ever do this, asshole, so make it count.
He kissed her with the desperate certainty that comes with wanting something you definitely cannot and should not have. He gripped the back of her head tightly, crashing their mouths together. Then he pulled back and held her at arm’s length.
Her eyebrows knitted together. “What’s wrong?”
Where do I start?
“Someone could come in here… One of them might come looking for us… We shouldn’t just…”
It was clear his thoughts hadn’t completely come back to him.
He shook his head. “Even without a drop of whiskey, why do I feel drunk when I’m around you, Addams?”
The kind of drunk you get addicted to. You are fucking intoxicating.
A slow smile spread on her face and there was so much affection in her eyes as she said, “Drake…” and started stepping forward again.
Drake stopped her and then dropped his arms. “Don’t smile at me like that. I don’t deserve it. We shouldn’t be doing this. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
He rubbed his face roughly, as if that could wipe out what he’d done. His mind, in the meantime, was chanting, You’re a piece of shit, you’re a piece of shit, over and over again.
Riley chewed on her cheek, her eyes downcast. “Should we leave?”
He stared at her, only this time she was the one who would not meet his eye. Can you blame her? You blew her off seconds after betraying your best friend. Why wouldn’t she want to leave?
Fuck. I have to tell Liam.
Perhaps wanting to delay that moment, he remembered the reason why he’d originally come into the study. “Soon… but we came in here with a mission, didn’t we?”
She raised her eyes, still avoiding his and gave a hesitant smile. “Something about searching for clues to the Beaumont mystery, I think?”
“Right.”
She turned to the drawers Drake had been inspecting when she’d arrived, while Drake searched through the papers on a smaller desk. He felt it before he saw it: a thick envelope.
“Whoa!” he let out once he’d thumbed through the contents.
“What is it?”
“If I’m not mistaken, this is a fat envelope full of cash!”
He showed it to Riley, whose eyes widened as she saw the stack of bills inside it.
“That’s… that’s what that is, all right. But why is it just here in the study?”
Drake turned it over. “There’s an address on the back… a French address! It looks like someone was going to mail this today.”
She grabbed his arm with urgency. He tried to suppress his body’s ridiculous reactions to her touch. “Drake… This has got to be the missing money that Bertrand was talking about! We’ve got to take it to Maxwell.”
He turned to her, surprised. “Really? You want to trust Maxwell Beaumont with an envelope of cash?”
“Let’s just say I trust him more than I trust Bertrand right now. I’ll text him to meet us here.”
It only took Maxwell a few seconds to burst into the room; he must have been nearby. His face was full of unease.
“What’s up? Your text sounded serious.”
“This is serious,” Riley said. “Drake and I were in here, and we found this envelope full of cash!”
Maxwell’s mouth fell open. “Oh, uh, wow! That… that must be the money that Bertrand was looking for. Thank you. You guys saved my life. Bertrand was ready to kill me over this.”
“No problem.”
Riley shoved the envelope into Maxwell’s hands, which were trembling.
“I think it’s too late to get the staff back, but at least we found it!” His voice sounded more high-pitched than usual.
Riley frowned. “But… how do you think the money ended up here?”
Maxwell gave an elaborate shrug. “Oh, you know, it’s been so crazy lately… Bertrand probably put it here to give to the staff and then forgot about it or something.”
Bullshit. What the hell.
“I don’t think that Bertrand would forget something like that…” He narrowed his eyes at Maxwell who was studiously ignoring his stare.
“Yeah, I’ll have to talk to him about it.”
Drake reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.
“You know, you can always tell us if you’re in some kind of trouble.”
“Oh, no more than usual.” He started backing out of the room. “Anyway, thanks for finding it! I owe you guys! But now we better get back to work before Bertrand realizes we’ve stopped cleaning!”
He pocketed the envelope and hurried out of the room.
Drake immediately turned to Riley- “Something is off. You getting that feeling too?”
She had that thoughtful look on her face again, the one that made him want to kiss her. Well, to be fair, that’s just her face in general.
“Yeah… It seems like Maxwell might be hiding something.”
“And I want to know what it is.”
“Maybe we’ll find more clues while we’re prepping the house?”
“We’ll see. Keep an eye out, but try not to be obvious about it.” He was already going to the door as he said this. He couldn’t be alone with her again.
He heard a faint, “Right,” as he left.
He found Bertrand polishing the banisters. He assigned Drake to one of dining room’s – never mind that they wouldn’t be using it tomorrow. He was glad for the distraction anyway. For the next couple of hours, all he was focused on was getting everything to look immaculate.
He was occasionally interrupted by thoughts of Liam; how he would react when he told him what he did tomorrow, whether it was their end of their friendship…
Every time that happened he threw himself into the work even more vehemently so that by the time he was done, the two rooms he’d tackled looked new.
He thought he’d earned himself a rest – though in his current state it was unlikely to be restful – so he headed to his room.
He’d only just begun his downward spiral with despairing thoughts about himself and his loyalty as he walked down the hallway, when he heard two male voices in Maxwell’s room.
He stopped, trying to decide if the second voice belonged to whom he thought it did. He knocked and opened the door to find Liam talking to Maxwell.
“Liam? What the–?”
“Drake! I got your text, I’m sorry I forgot to respond to it.”
Drake waved his apology off. “S’okay. What are you doing here?” Before Liam could answer, he continued, “Actually, can I speak to you in private?”
“Of course. I was just arranging for Maxwell’s help, but I believe we’re all set?”
“Yep! I will be your waiter for this evening, Your Majesty.” Maxwell gave Liam a sweeping bow.
“Wait, what? Waiter? What do you mean?” Drake looked from one man to the other, totally nonplussed.
Liam gave him a radiant smile and explained, “Oh, Maxwell is being kind enough to help me on my date with Riley tonight. He’ll be our waiter.”
“On your… date?” Drake choked.
“Yes. I realized we’d skipped that part of courting, so I came here early to ask her and she said yes!” Liam’s smile was only getting bigger.
“You already asked her and everything. Cool. Very cool, so fun! Well, I’m gonna go to my room now.”
Liam tilted his head. “Didn’t you want to talk about something Drake?”
“Right. Er, no, not anymore. As it turns out, it’s not as important as I thought i was.”
He hastened off to his room and slammed the door. He threw himself down on his bed.
You coward.
I’m not a coward!
Yeah, right. You know you should have told Liam.
What for?! He’d only be hurt and it’s not worth it! It’s clear Addams is choosing him anyway; why else would she be going on dates? Maybe she was bored and she didn’t think she’d be seeing Liam until tomorrow. Whatever it was, let’s face it: it was only a kiss to her. I’m not going to ruin my friendship with Liam and their relationship just ‘cause it meant more to me.
Fuck this.