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“Wait a minute,” I said. “Pierce told you about my dream, didn’t he?”
“Dream?” Andrew asked.
Tristan frowned thoughtfully. “I haven’t been told of any dream.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. They seemed to be telling the truth. At least that embarrassing tidbit hadn’t been shared.
Still though, this was insane. I had signed a contract with a billionaire, and he intended for his valet or personal assistant to step in and knock me up if he wasn’t able to. And they had talked about it before this. So many parts of me wanted to laugh in their faces, then storm home to Rhode Island.
Yet talking about it like this took away most of the stigma. I knew Andrew and Tristan, and I liked them. That made it feel different than if Pierce blindfolded me and let his staff have their way with me.
Although thinking about it like that did send an excited, sexy shiver up my spine.
“You have every right to be upset,” Andrew began.
“I’m not upset,” I said.
“You’re not?”
To my own surprise, it was the truth. I wasn’t upset. If I was being totally honest with myself, I was intrigued by Pierce’s mention of the loophole being intentional. In his absence, I had grown closer to Andrew—not just because I was bored, but because of my curiosity about the loophole. I realized I had been waiting to see if Andrew would make a move while his billionaire friend-slash-boss was gone.
And part of me was disappointed he hadn’t.
“Pierce told me something that I didn’t really believe,” I said. “He claimed that he doesn’t get jealous. He insisted he wouldn’t be upset if I slept with someone else.” I took another sip of my margarita before going on. “In fact, his only stipulation was that I send him a video of it.”
I wasn’t sure how either of them would react. Tristan rolled his eyes. Andrew chuckled. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
I sat up a little straighter. “Wait, really?”
“I…” Andrew glanced at Tristan.
“There are aspects of this arrangement that we have agreed never to share with anyone without Pierce’s express permission,” Tristan explained. “Suffice to say: this is not the first time such a request has been made, nor the first time it has been fulfilled.”
My body was alive now, practically vibrating with interest. “Really? You’ve made a sex tape before and shared it with Pierce? Come on, tell me!”
Tristan cradled his chin like a detective. “First, tell us about this dream.”
“Oh, yeah!” Andrew said. “The dream.”
Just then, the bartender came into the room and asked if we needed anything else. “We are quite fine, thank you Salvador,” Tristan replied. “You can retire for the evening.”
When he left, Salvador closed the door to the parlor behind him.
“The dream. Tell us about it,” Andrew insisted.
“There was no dream,” I lied. “I was testing you.”
“I suspect it was a sex dream,” Tristan said. “There is no need to blush, dear Melinda. You are among friends. Competitive friends, I might add. Which of us did you dream about? Your cheeks are turning yet a deeper shade of red, proving that my assumption is correct.”
“Okay fine. It was a sex dream.”
“There you have it,” Tristan nodded. “A perfectly natural thing. I once had a torrid affair in my dreams involving Catherine, the seventy-five year old director of Pierce’s charitable foundation. Such dreams are out of our control. There is nothing to be embarrassed about, Melinda.”
“And…?” Andrew asked me. “Who was your dream about?”
This was a crossroads. The kind of moment where a friendship—or relationship—might change for the worse based on new information. I could lie, save my embarrassment, and go to bed if I wanted. Neither of them ever had to know.
But I was immensely curious about where the night might take us, and I was even more curious about what the three of them had done in the past. And on top of all of that, I was the kind of person who believed that the truth should always come out as quickly as possible, rather than being hidden away. If everyone felt the same way—especially men like the Bobs—my life would have been better for it.
