Startled by his confession, I raise my gaze to his. “I can’t stand it either.”

With the exception of one.

The tick in Liam’s jaw tells me he knows it too.

“You’re attracted to him.” Not a question, but a fact that sketches jealousy across his face.

“I’d rather be here with you than with anyone else.”

“You only say that because my brothers are unknown territory to you. You’re scared of the unknown.”

That’s probably true, but there’s no denying my attraction to Liam, or the connection I feel to him. It’s been there from the beginning.

More silence stews between us.

Heavy with the things we’ve said.

And the things we don’t.

“Tomorrow’s my birthday.” His announcement fractures the spiraling tension, offering a welcome change of subject.

“How old will you be?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Do you have plans to celebrate?”

“All of them involve you and the many things we shouldn’t do.”

“Why shouldn’t we?” I ask, barely breathing.

“I’m not a patient man, Novalee. You’ll leave my house in a few days, and I won’t be allowed to touch you for the next eleven months.”

“But you’re the chancellor.”

“Yes, my word holds the most authority on policy and business decisions, but the Brotherhood’s contract regarding you is outside the scope of that. My only advantage is having you first.”

I gnaw on my lip, afraid to voice my next question. “What happens if you do…touch me…when I’m under someone else’s authority?”

“Touching you without permission?” He rakes his fingers through his hair. “Corporal punishment, at the least…”

“And at most?”

“My right to bid in the auction could be revoked.”

My mind flashes to yesterday when Sebastian had me against the wall. “Is that why you’re furious with Sebastian? Because he touched me?”

“He crossed a line, but he didn’t engage in a sexual act with you.” He pauses a beat, fingers tapping his annoyance on the table. “That’s me showing my penchant for jealousy.”

I like that he’s jealous. It’s a shameful thing to admit, even to myself. “What constitutes a sexual act?”

“Jesus,” he mutters, letting out a breath. “Touching your breasts or other intimate areas, kissing, using you for pleasure…” He raises his eyes to the ceiling as if praying for fortitude. “Straight up sex.”

“Liam.” The softness of his name on my lips brings his focus back to me, and I feel my face redden with heat. “I want those things with you.” It’s a brazen confession—one I can’t believe I put into words.

“If I touch you…really fucking touch you…I don’t know how I’ll keep my hands to myself until the auction.”