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I make a list on my notes app while we walk to my place.

We need time and quiet to get through all this information, and we need... space, comfort. Fuck, I don’t know what we need.

I don’t know how I’m going to pull this off, I just know that I will.

I have to.

I won’t fucking be another person who lets Liam down after I’m the one who put us in this position.

Liam tugs me by the arm like he’s done twice before while we’ve been walking. I suspect he’s stopping me from bumping into people, since I’m looking down at my phone, and though I want to thank him each time, I need to keep focusing on the list so I don’t forget anything Theo said.

“I think we’re here,” he says what seems like only minutes after we said our goodbyes to Theo, or at least it seems that way to me.

I look up and see the four almost identical buildings. “The second one is my home,” I tell him, and watch where I’m going this time as I lead him further down the sidewalk because the six steps to the front door are just uneven enough that if you’re not careful, you’ll definitely trip.

“Milton?” I call out when we walk in.

“Yes, mas—Carter?” he corrects himself even before he comes into view of the foyer. I go ahead and take off my shoes, and then look back to see Liam following my lead, frowning down at his feet.

I want to ask him what’s wrong because that’s not his normal resting frown face.

I know that one, and it’s a tender, focused kind of frown.

This one is... I don’t fucking know, more worried.

But Milton’s footsteps are approaching, so I turn forward and see him come out of the kitchen door down the hallway.

“Milton, this is Liam Trent. He’s my friend. Liam...” I turn back to look at him without taking a breath. “This is Milton. Technically my butler, but he’s also like my best friend.”

Actually he’s my family, but I’ve never even said that to Milton, and I don’t think this is the time to start that conversation.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” Milton says, and nods like he’s meeting the royals or something.

“Nice to meet you too,” Liam whispers.

“Liam and I will be—” I stumble slightly over what to call it. I’m going to tell Milton what we’re doing, eventually, but probably not in front of Liam because Milton will have opinions . “Working together on a project.”

Not exactly a lie, is it?

“That’s wonderful, Carter. Would you like some refreshments?”

“I, uh.” I look back at Liam and ask quietly. “What would you like?”

“Some water,” he says, still speaking very quietly.

“That’s a good idea after the coffee.” I nod and once more look at Milton. “And can we get something easy for lunch? We haven’t eaten yet.”

“Of course.” Milton bows and then turns to walk back to the kitchen.

“Come on,” I tell Liam, speaking quietly too, then we walk behind Milton, but where he goes right, toward the kitchen, we go left to the living room. It has two big comfortable couches CJ bought when he spent some time here more than a year ago, and a big TV as well as a low coffee table.

I drop onto the couch on the left and let out a breath when Liam sits next to me.

“I’m not sure where we should start,” Liam murmurs.

I think about it for a minute. There are so many things I could say, problems I could bring up, but in the end, my brain decides for me.

“What about we start with Theo’s suggestion to talk to Tristan about all of this?”

If we do, then it would feel like we have an adult on our side. Not that Liam isn’t an adult, he has his shit together in a way I probably never will, but I think it’s safe to say we’re both out of our depth here.

“I don’t know...” Liam trails off and shakes his head. This time he adds a grimace, and I can’t help but picture my hopes of having some help go up in flames. “He’s a business associate, and I think this is too personal to share with him.”

He speaks quietly, and something tells me it wasn’t easy for him to tell me that, so I swallow down my disappointment and nod.

“That’s fine,” I assure him.

And then... I don’t know what to say for the longest time. I want to apologize for putting him in this position. I want to tell him I care about him and about why he thinks going to this ball is so important.

How can I explain that I barely understand my own actions?

I’m speaking before I can even process the answer that pops into my head.

“I was going to ask you to be my friend,” I blurt out, and Liam’s frown is one hundred percent confused this time.

“What?” he mutters, almost sounding angry, but I know him well enough to know better.

“That day when I heard your voice at the gallery.” I take a deep breath and decide on complete honesty. “You left CJ’s party kind of abruptly, and that made me feel a bit sad, if I’m honest.”

“Why?”

“Well, because we’d gotten along so nicely, and I just—” I break off to shrug. “I’d like to have a friend who’s not painfully in love,” I confess .

Liam stays quiet for a long moment, his gaze downcast, and when he finally looks up, he’s... smiling.

“I’d like to be your friend too,” he says, and it’s so silly for two grown men to be having this conversation, but I don’t even care right now.

“All right, then.” I nod once and settle back further into the couch. I bring my right knee up so I’m turned in his direction. “So I suppose the next thing I should ask is why is this ball so important to you?”

Liam does as I just did, leaning deeper into the couch and turning to look at me.

“A woman who I’m trying to convince to invest in ESoothe asked me to go and talk to her about it there.”

“I thought Tristan was handling that for you?” I say like a question.

“He is. He’s the one who approached Mrs. Blackwell, but she wants to talk to me, so...” He trails off and shrugs.

I debate whether asking questions about the Dick is a good idea, and conclude that it can wait until after we have food.

“All right, let’s get to it. First on the list.” I pull out my phone and check. “Where and how did we meet?”

“You said we’ve been dating for two years, so where were you two years ago?”

I frown at the wall while I try to remember, and when I can’t, I go to my photos on my phone and go back two years.

Before I get to July, I stumble across Mike and Theo’s wedding and a lightbulb turns on inside my head.

“Mike and Theo’s wedding was in August two years ago. Your father played for their first dance. ”

“Yes, that’s where he said you were drunk?” Liam asks, and his frown is firmly back.

“Exactly,” I cry, triumph filling me. “Did you live in New York then? With all your fancy Harvard degrees I suppose you were in Boston for some years, yeah?”

“I was already living in New York,” Liam nods. “And actually I was in the Hamptons too. Not at the wedding of course, but we went for the weekend.”

“I think we have the ‘where’ for our story,” I tell him, feeling some of the dread—very little, but some—leave me. “We can just say you went to pick up your parents and that’s how we met?”

“That could work. Dirk would never believe I went to a stranger’s wedding,” he mutters.

“Then maybe let’s say I asked you to come by the gallery during the week?”

“Yes, closer to the truth, I suppose.”

“The best lies always are,” I tell him, leaning slightly forward and winking.

Liam’s reaction, a deeper frown, makes me feel like a bloody idiot, but I soldier through.

“So you came by the gallery and then we went to dinner just like yesterday.” Liam nods.

“Right, so you know a lot about my friends already, about my life. And I know a lot about you too, so I think we’re safe in that regard.

” I look down at my notes and ask the next question. “Why did we start dating?”

“Because you’re patient and understanding and a good person,” Liam says immediately.

“You’re a good person too,” I tell him seriously .

“Do you think that’s enough of a reason?”

“I do. And anyone who asks will probably only want either of us to say something sappy and sentimental, so you leave that to me.” I only get a nod, so I keep going. “Why do we love each other?” I ask, and my breath stalls, but Milton comes in and that’s the perfect distraction.

He’s made tapas, brought a pitcher of chilled water, and leaves after we thank him.

We’re filling our small plates when Liam speaks.

“I think love just happens,” he starts, surprising me into stillness. “I understand that there are reasons, but loving someone shouldn’t be a reward, not for something someone does, but because you can’t help it.”

His tone is small enough to let me know he’s not pulling this out of his arse. He knows this.

From experience.

With the Dick.

I still cannot understand how the fuck that’s possible, but again, I bite my tongue.

“You should say exactly that if someone asks you why you love me,” I tell him, with a small smile he hopefully understands is pleased and maybe just a little teasing. “I never thought you’d be the sentimental sort.”

Liam’s snort has me relaxing.

“My parents are poets, Carter,” he says and rolls his eyes sassily.

I can’t help but smile.

I’m starting to get tiny glimpses of who Liam really is .

At least the side of Liam that only comes out when he’s truly comfortable.

I’m not prepared for how big it feels, that privilege, that... protectiveness. He trusts me, and even though he said he did all those weeks back at The Storm Ranch, it’s starting to sink in, and it only reinforces my determination to do this right.

“All right, poet Liam,” I say, my voice scratchy. I clear my throat and get back to it. “What are your pet peeves?” I try to smirk again, but my smile comes out soft.

“Well, you know all about the noise.” He waves a hand in my direction.

“Yes, and the birthday song,” I add and nod sagely.

“Yes. Besides that I don’t like people who are late.” He’s looking away, but thoughtfully, not avoiding me really.

“Me either,” I confess.

“I don’t like motorcycles or people who ride them.”

“Why?”