Now it was he who squeezed my hand. “It’s okay, Bry. I get it. I understand that and I wouldn’t ask you to compromise your business.”
“You do? I mean, you understand that?”
“Sure I do.”
“I told my dad you would, but then I thought, god, I’d just said to you I wanted to see more of you only to turn around and actually see less of you.”
“And what did your dad say?”
“He just didn’t want to see me get hurt, that’s all. He didn’t want me to lose focus on my business, but he didn’t want for there to be any confusion between you and me about my priorities.” I shrugged. “He’s all about work, work, work.”
Michael looked at our joined hands. “I get it, Bryce. I do.”
“You can keep calling me Bry. I don’t mind.”
He smiled. “And if I have to go to your shop to spend time with you, I will. I like Singaporean coffee.”
I leaned back on the sofa and stared at him. He was so goddamned pretty, and so understanding, and so very mine. “Thank you.”
He turned side-on, his leg folded up underneath him. I kept hold of his hand. “Okay, well that wasn’t bad or anything to be nervous about. What was the second thing?”
“Oh, well . . .” I made a face, ignoring the knots in my belly.
“Oh, this one’s the bad one, right? The one you were nervous about. I get it, you don’t have to say it,” he whispered, pulling his hand from mine. “Though after you just said you wanted to keep seeing me, inviting me here to give me bad news—”
“What? No.” I snatched up his hand again. “It’s not bad. Well, you might think it is, and you can say no. They’ll understand. I mean, Terrence probably won’t. And he’ll make my life a misery, but he’ll get over it.”
“Bry, the fuck are you talking about?”
“Terrence wants you to meet the guys,” I blurted out. “I mean, I do too, but technically he’s making me ask you and he threatened to call you himself if I didn’t. But next Saturday night, if you’re free, that is, you’re not obligated at all, I’m meeting my mates for a few drinks and want you to come with me. To meet them.”
Michael smiled. “You want me to meet them, or Terrence does?”
I laughed. “It sounds bad, because he brought it up but I agree with him. Next weekend will be my last free weekend before things with the shop get crazy.”
“You should spend time with your friends if this is your last chance,” he began.
“I want you to meet them,” I told him, looking him right in the eye. “They know I’m seeing someone, and they know it’s the guy I met at the bar when I was out with them on my first night back from Singapore. They know we didn’t know each other’s names for a while, and they know we see each other a lot; thanks to Terrence, that is. So maybe it’s time they met you. But only if you want.”
He studied me for a long, heart-stopping moment before he nodded. “I’d love to meet them.” Then he made a face. “Terrence won’t give me the third degree again, will he?”
“He better freaking not.” I leaned over and kissed him. “Thank you.”
“You were so nervous I thought it was the cliché ‘it’s not you’ speech.”
I laughed. “I’d just told you I wanted to make an extra effort to keep seeing you when things with the store get busy, and then the next sentence you think I’m going to dump you?”
“That’s why I was confused.”
I cupped his beautiful face and kissed him. “I was nervous because it’s a big deal for me to introduce you to my friends. I’ve never done that before. I’ve never . . . I’ve never been with anyone long enough, I guess.”
“You’ve never . . . ? Is this the longest you’ve ever seen someone?”
I felt my cheeks heat. “Well, yeah. There’s been guys, of course. But it’s been hard for me.” I swallowed thickly. “People find out who I am and they treat me differently. They see my name and not me, and it’s not easy knowing who likes me for me. Know what I mean?”
“I think I do.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Is this part of the original two questions, or are we adding a third?”
“Well, you do like it when I do things in threes.”
He laughed and nudged his shoulder to mine, staying a little closer to my side. “Ask away.”
“Did you know who I was?” I held his hand tight, suddenly dreading his answer, because fuck, what if he did?
“I had no clue who you were. I had a name in a job file with zero clue who I was supposed to be meeting. Someone in my office had said the name was big in the hotel division, but I don’t deal with hotel brokerage so I didn’t know. I mean, I’ve heard of Schroeder Hotels, who hasn’t? It’s like Hilton. But even when you walked in, it took a few seconds to connect the dots. I didn’t realise it was you. Like, I didn’t realise you were the Bryson Schroeder.”
“But even after,” I whispered. “It’s just that you never treated me any different, so I wondered if you knew . . .”
“I wouldn’t treat you any different because it doesn’t matter to me. The good part about not knowing who you were when we first met was that I got to know the real you.” He shrugged. “Did you want me to treat you different?”
“No! God no. I, um, I’m glad you don’t. I like that you don’t treat me differently. A lot of people do. You know? They hear my surname, or they find out who my dad is, and they make exceptions for me and I hate that.”
“I can’t imagine what that’s like.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand. “But you’re one of the most down-to-earth guys I know. Well, the car is a bit of a flex, but—”
“Hey, don’t knock my car. I love that car. But if you’d prefer I sell it and get a second-hand Ford Focus—”
“No, you’re not selling it, god. Are you kidding me? I love that car.”
I let go of his hand, gripped his knee, and pushed him back onto the couch. I hitched his knee over my hip and kissed him, both of us smiling. Michael stared up at me, then chewed on his bottom lip. “There is something we do need to talk about, though,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“Dinner, because I’m starving. And your BTS shirt.”
“Leave my shirt alone.”
He laughed. “No, I want it. You can keep the Purple Rain one. I want this one.”
“You can’t have it.”
“Yes, I can.”
“No, you can’t. It’s mine.”
“I’m pretty sure you’ll give it to me.”
“Is that right?”
He ran his hands down my back and over my arse, and he rolled his hips, grinding against me. “Yeah.”
I kissed him and it would have been so easy—so very easy—to get carried away, but I remembered how he said he was starving. I pulled his bottom lip in between my teeth and let it go. “I promised you dinner.”
“Mmm, is there a better offer?”