“Very true,” he calls back.

I run a comb through my locks, my strands falling into my face the way I know she likes it. Or—used to like it.

But now... now I like it because of the way he likes it. The way Nathaniel tugs on my hair when he laughs, when he moans, when he clutches at me like he’s trying to anchor himself to something real.

Yeah, I’m never cutting it again.

My phone buzzes.

Dad. Shit.

“Hey, dad,” I answer, already dreading this.

“Son. How’s it going? Is there a congratulations in order yet?”

My throat tightens. “Uh... not yet. Dad, I—”

How the hell do I say this? Sorry, dad. The engagement was a half-baked idea. Turns out I’m bisexual and I’m pretty sure I’m madly-obsessed-with-Nathaniel-Philips.

He cuts me off. “Caleb, enough. You said you were going to do something. Do it. Be a man who follows through.”

My chest tightens.

“You better get to her now and get it done. You hear me? Get. It. Done.”

I move toward the other end of the hotel room so Nathaniel doesn’t hear. Not that this counts as a fight. This is just... my dad giving commands like usual.

“I’ve booked your return flight home. Your plane leaves at 10 PM so I should expect you back tonight.”

My stomach drops. “What? Dad, I’m supposed to be leaving tomorrow morning—”

“You’ve had plenty of time. There’s a meeting tomorrow with the Jefferson account. No excuses. Call Sarah. Wrap it up. Come home.”

I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. “Yes, sir.”

Dial tone.

I stare down at the phone in my hand like it might burst into flames. I made this mess. And now, I’m supposed to clean it up at the expense of the only thing in my life that’s ever made sense.

Nathaniel.

“Everything okay?”

I whip around at the sound of his voice. My breath catches.

Holy shit.

He’s leaning in the doorway, freshly dressed, still buttoning his shirt. White dress shirt, black tie. His hair brushed back neatly, except for a few strands that fall into his eyes—dangerously, unfairly hot.

I lick my lips. Now is not the time to be drooling all over him but when he looks like that, I can hardly breathe.

“Woah,” I manage to say out loud.

“What?” he smirks, clearly catching the look on my face.

“You look... really good,” I laugh, walking toward him like I’m being pulled on strings.

“You too.” He pokes me in the chest, all casual, and I grab his wrist and pull him into me. His thigh slips between mine. My arms cage his waist.

“Caleb,” he sighs, gripping my shoulders. I can barely hold back.

“No, you look really really good,” I whisper, biting at his neck. His skin is so soft, his scent wrecking me.

He tilts his head to give me more access and my teeth scrape down to his collarbone. Yup, I’m already hard.

“Keep this up and we’ll never make it,” he says, breathless.