Page 2 of Ethan

Liam laughed as he filled his glass. "I think it's hot. Imagining people looking at your naked body. Maybe wanking off while salivating over it."

Owen nearly choked on the beer he was swallowing. "I don't know why I'm friends with any of you. I'm hanging around with three sexual reprobates."

Noah pounded Owen's shoulder. "Such a prude." He handed the pictures across the table to me. "Does the photoshoot include sleeping with this Carlos again?"

I shrugged. We hadn't discussed the parameters of what we were doing other than we both weren't looking for anything romantic between us. There had been obvious sparks, but they were strictly sexual. We'd exchanged numbers. I hoped he'd become a good friend.

"I wouldn't be averse to a quick fuck first," I said. "He's seriously skilled."

Owen grunted. "From fucking all those nude models, no doubt."

"You're just jealous," Liam stated.

"No," Owen replied. "Who I'm jealous of is Noah and Brody."

Owen turned his attention to Noah who had slowed down his beer consumption. He was probably going to be closing the pub tonight. I hadn't seen any of the usual managers around.

"How are the wedding plans coming along?" I asked.

Noah sighed. "Brody is in charge, but my mother wants to hijack the entire celebration. Thankfully, Brody is stubborn when it comes to her. We've talked at length about what we want. He won't stray from it, and he is quick to defend me when my parents try to bulldoze me under."

"He's got your back when it comes to those two," Liam said. "You're lucky."

Noah smiled and I swear to God, his eyes twinkled. "My man is the best."

My mind wandered, reducing the conversation around me to a hum. I studied Noah's face. I wanted that. The look in Noah's eyes as he spoke about Brody. The absolute love that had woven itself through every strand of Noah's being. I did—I wanted that too.

But life wasn't providing me with any options.

Not a suitor in sight.

I spun my glass, ignoring the banter circulating around me.

It had been six months since I ran into Daniel at the grocery store; the older man who had caught my attention when he used to frequent my coffee shop still took up space in my head.

I couldn't shake him. I'd been certain he would accept my invitation to visit my shop on a weekend after his company had moved him to an office on the other side of town.

His eyes had registered interest.

Hesitant interest, though. The man who dressed like an 80s English professor wearing adorable tweed jackets with leather elbow patches was probably straight.

Straight and married.

Although, I hadn't seen a wedding ring on his finger.

The meeting wound down and I wandered home, thinking about him. I hadn't thought to ask for a business card from him. Even though I had the perfect excuse for needing a corporate tax accountant like Daniel. I had incorporated my coffee shop last year and I needed help.

I ran an old argument through my brain.

Even without a business card, it wouldn't take much effort to find out which accounting firm had been occupying a space in the nearby collection of offices.

I shook my head, dislodging the thought from my mind, and unlocked the front door of my apartment building. Contacting Daniel under the guise of business would border on stalking.

If he wanted to see me again, he knew where I was.

Monday mornings were the worst out of the entire week. No one functioned well on less than four hours of sleep. I was no exception. After the meeting last night, I hadn't been able to fall asleep right away. My alarm sounding at 3:20 am was an unwelcome intrusion on my restless night.

I hauled myself out of bed and found a fresh set of clothes among a pile of clean clothing on the end of my bed. It wasn't uncommon for my clothes to never make it into the closet.