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The warmth of his palm seeps through my T-shirt, making my skin tingle. He stares at his hand as if he can’t quite remember how it got there.

My heart kicks into overdrive. It thuds against my ribcage hard enough that I’m positive Harrison can feel it.

His eyes widen almost imperceptibly, a flicker of realization in those blue depths.Shit.

Suddenly, I’m imagining his hand sliding lower, those nimble fingers tracing over my abs, dipping down to the waistband of my jeans. Heat pools low in my belly. Blood pools lower.

God, what is wrong with me? This is Harrison. I shouldn’t be thinking about him this way. It’s wrong…isn’t it?

I risk a glance at Daniel, who’s watching the whole interaction with keen interest. His eyes ping-pong between Harrison and me. When he sees me staring at him, he arches an eyebrow as if to say, “Well, well, what do we have here?”

The moment stretches on, the three of us suspended in this strange, charged limbo. No one moves, no one breathes. It’s as if we’re all waiting for someone to break the spell, to laugh it off, and change thesubject.

But I don’t want to break the spell. I want to let it linger and see where it takes us.

Even if I have no idea what I’m doing. Even if it means venturing into uncharted territory with my best friend and the guy who’s quickly taking up space in my head.

Harrison snaps out of it first. He clears his throat and takes a small step back. His hand falls away from my chest, and the loss of contact is jarring.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t mean to…I mean, I wasn’t trying to…” He trails off, uncharacteristically flustered.

“It’s okay,” I rush to assure him, even though I’m not entirely sure what I’m absolving him of. Touching me? Making me harder than I’ve ever been before? Blurring the lines of our burgeoning friendship in a way that both exhilarates and terrifies me? “No worries, man.”

“Right.” Harrison nods, still not quite meeting my gaze. “I should probably get going. Have fun at the party, McManus. And Hollingsworth, try not to jump out of a window at your family thing.”

Daniel laughs. “Right back at you, Price.”

With that, Harrison walks out, leaving me standing there with a dozen questions swirling in my head.

Daniel slaps my ass, startling me. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get some food before you starve to death, and I have to stuff myself into a penguin suit.

Chapter 16

Dutiful Son

Daniel

Tuxedos arethe devil’s pajamas. I’m entirely convinced of this because the stiff collar is strangling me half to death. And, oh God, the cummerbund? That’s just a fancy word for “waist prison.”

Formal wear has never been my style; give me a pair of jeans and a T-shirt any day, thank you very much. And as much as I despise the penguin suit, I hate the dress shoes even more. They’re patent leather abominations that pinch my toes and rub my heels raw. For now, they sit in the seat next to me, gleaming like sinister black diamonds.

I wiggle my toes in my dress socks, relishing the brief reprieve. I’d say I have about ten minutes of freedom left before I have to put them on. I’m going to savor every minute.

The cab weaves through traffic, honking at the delivery trucks that dare to double park on Ninth Avenue. My fingers curl around the door handle, knuckles turning white as I hold on for dear life. The cab driver swerves sharply, narrowly avoiding one of the death traps as it pulls out into traffic.

For a heart-stopping moment, the world tilts sideways as we whiz around it on two wheels. I squeeze my eyes shut, a silentprayer on my lips, and don’t open them until the cab rights itself with a jarring thud.

Holy shit, that was close. Too close. My heart rate is through the roof, and no amount of controlled breathing can calm it. As the cab driver continues speeding down the city streets like he’s in aMission: Impossiblemovie, I question my decision to take a cab instead of the town car my parents offered.

“You all right back there?” the driver asks, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I lie. “Just wasn’t expecting to be in a real-life action movie today.”

The driver chuckles, shaking his head. “This is New York, kid. You gotta be ready for anything.”

No kidding. I’m starting to think I should’ve worn a helmet instead of this thousand-dollar suit. At least then I’d have some protection against the driver’s apparent death wish.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. It’s already coming loose from the neat style I’d forced it into earlier. Same as me, I suppose. No matter how hard I try to fit into this mold, there’s always some part of me that refuses to be tamed.