Page 43 of My Best Friend's CEO Dad

I’ll never get tired of the way she moans, the way her legs tighten like she never wants me to let go, the way her horny?—

My cell phone starts to ring. I wince, letting out a heavy sigh that ruins the moment.

“Do you have to get that?” she asks.

“I silenced all notifications for our date,” I tell her, “except for one contact.”

Maci swallows, her hands pressed against my chest, giving me a slight nod. She doesn’t need to ask who. She pushes me away gently but still claws with her fingernails as though she wants to pull me back.

Turning away to bury the shame, I answer my cell phone.

“Dad?” Kayla snaps down the phone. “Dad?”

“Kayla,” I say fiercely. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Ethan—Finn.”

My stomach cramps. She knows his real name, meaning he must’ve told her the rest. He must’ve played the recording for her.

“His real name is Finn,” she says, and I can tell she’s fighting the urge to cry. “Can you come home, please? We need to talk, and can you ask the security guys to get hold of Maci? I tried calling her, but I can’t reach her.”

“You want us both there?” I ask.

“Just hurry up,” she yells, hanging up.

I drop my phone into my pocket, turning to find Maci adjusting her clothes. Her cheeks are flushed red, but this isn’t with the lust and passion that usually drives me so crazy. This is with something else entirely. She looks like somebody has just told her it’s the end of the world.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Kayla knows Ethan’s real name. I guess he told her. She wants to speak to us both.”

Maci swallows. “So that means it’s all out there, then.”

I step forward and take her hand. She flinches like she’s debating snatching it away but then lets me hold onto her. She tightens her grip like she never wants to let go. That’s all it takes with us: moments of contact that lead to conflagrations of connection.

“No more running,” she says. “It’s time to face up to what we’ve done.”

As I drive us back into the city, Maci picks at the fabric of her pants. She pulls a thread loose and then keeps picking at it, twisting it between her fingers, grinding her teeth from side to side. I reach over and gently touch her face.

“You’ll hurt yourself.”

She wraps her arms around her body like a straitjacket, which may be appropriate. Maybe we’re both crazy for ever thinking this could work.

“I’d rather hurt myself than hurt Kay,” she murmurs.

“It’s too late,” I tell her. “All we can do now is go in there and do our best to explain.”

“Explain what?” Maci leans away from my hand. “Explain I spied on you in the pool? Explain we almost had sex twice when we were staying in the same house as her? Explain we’ve had weeks to come clean, but we haven’t?”

“We didn’t want to hurt her,” I say.

“That’s never a good excuse.”

“I’m doing my best here, Maci,” I tell her.

She softens, touching my arm. It gives me more comfort than I ever believed a single touch could. If I were driving to have this conversation with Kayla alone, I’d be panicking more. I’m sure I’d be going crazy. It does feel like a bomb’s about to go off, but somehow, the tick-tick-ticking isn’t as unbearable as it should be. With Maci, I can face anything.

“We would’ve had a beautiful relationship,” I say as we drive over the bridge. The city’s towers seem to get taller and more imposing.

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