If they would see me, and how I looked at him. With him.

I return my gaze to the two men staring intently at me. “I gave Mason his own set of solo’s to keep. That seemed to go over smashingly well. Then, while he was down there, going at it, he told me to put money in.” I shrug. “I did.”

“Where is this photo booth exactly?” Joey grabs the small pad of paper and the pen we keep by the phone, ready to jot down the address.

“Joey,” Billy starts, waiting for his husband to look over at him. He jerks his chin. “No.”

Joey shoots him a pleading look. “Oh, come on. You know you’d love it.” He leans in for a kiss, hovering a breath away from Billy’s mouth. “Just think of how cramped it probably is in there. How tight it would be. Mm. I bet there’s hardly any room for you to move, but you like that, right? You like tight things, don’t you, baby?”

Holy shit.

I shove a massive bite of strawberry into my mouth as Billy groans, pinching his eyes shut and dropping a hand to his lap.

“Brat,” he murmurs, adjusting himself while he tries to look annoyed but only succeeds at looking immensely turned-on and on the brink of dragging his husband back to the bedroom.

Joey leans away, grinning and tapping his pen on the paper. “See? Do I know my man, or what?”

“You do. But let’s get addresses later.” Billy covers Joey’s hand with his, forcing Joey to release the pen. He then turns his dissecting attention onto me. “Brooke, what are we missing here? Why are you binge-eating and nearly breaking down doors? What else is going on?”

I drop my spoon into the container and set it on the counter, exchanging it for my glass of wine. I lift it in the air, toasting. “Mason is withholding the dick.”

“This is news?” Billy raises an eyebrow. “I thought he made it clear when you two first met that he wanted to wait to have sex. Get to know you and all.”

“He did. But apparently, he wasn’t just referring to sex.”

Joey grabs the bottle of wine. “What else was he referring to?”

“Oh, you know.” I sweep my hand through the air. “Everything. Touching it. Sucking it. Anything I could possibly do to get him off. The entire thing is a no-go apparently.”

The bottle hovers in the air an inch away from Joey’s mouth. He leans to the side to see me around it. “I’m sorry. What?”

I bring my glass to my lips, swallowing a generous amount of wine. “You heard me. After kissing my fucking brains out at the door, he walked away, refusing my offer to come inside . . . pun intended, and left, taking his glorious erection with him. He told me he wants this to be about me. That he didn’t get me off just so I would return the favor.”

“That’s actually kind of sweet, Brooke. Unconventional, but sweet,” Billy remarks, laughing quietly at Joey as he mirrors my reaction to this discovery and goes immediately for alcohol. Running a hand through his short blonde hair, Billy turns back to me with a gentle smile. “Name one other guy who has ever done that for you.”

I let my eyes roam the condo, pretending to think, but I don’t need to.

The truth is, I can’t name anyone. I can’t think of any man who has ever done half of the things Mason has insisted on or offered. If I could, this might not seem so completely baffling to me.

Why is he putting himself through all of this? He’s taken every sexual release I have to give him off the table, and yet he’s still fixated on me.

Why?

“Okay.” Joey sets the bottle down and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth. “First of all, this wine is terrible. Let’s never buy it again.”

I quietly chuckle as I lift my head.

“Second, I can see this being a problem if you weren’t getting off, Brooke, but you are. And although you refuse to admit this, I think you like this guy.”

“But I don’t understand him.”

And for the first time in my life, I feel completely out of my league.

Joey crosses his arms against his chest, sitting up a little straighter, showing off his proud smile.

“What?” I ask, confused by his sudden disposition.

“You didn’t argue with me that time. You like him.”

“I like a lot of men who get me off. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Joey loses the smile and levels me with a skeptical glare. I look to Billy, only to find him mirroring his partner’s demeanor.

Fuck this. I’ve had enough girl talk for one night.

With a heavy head and an exhausted mind, I hop off the counter, polishing off the rest of my wine and setting the glass in the sink. “I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. I can’t think about this anymore tonight.”

I wave a limp hand in the direction of my two roommates as I pad across the condo.

Billy starts to say something but I shake my head, cutting him off before I escape into my room.

Morning comes too soon after I close my eyes, and because of the restless night’s sleep I’m suffering from, I arrive late to work for the first time in three years. Luckily, having chatty Cathy as my roommate pays off for me and I don’t get much of an earful from Dylan when I step inside the bakery.

I’m sure she has been adequately filled in on the night I had.

“Sorry. Sorry. It won’t happen again. I promise,” I say, reemerging from the kitchen after setting my purse down. I secure my unruly hair up into a pony and step behind the counter. “I don’t think you want me doing any detailed piping work today. I’m running on about five minutes of sleep.”

Dylan drops her head into a nod as Joey finishes up with a customer. “That’s fine. Man the front with Joey. I need to be off my feet today anyway so I’m going to stay in the back. I can work from a stool.”

“Are you feeling okay?” I watch her close her eyes through several slow, deep breaths.

My gaze shifts to the shop phone hanging on the wall.

Even though I’ve never had a reason to call it, I was forced to memorize Reese’s work number when Dylan was first pregnant with Ryan. I wonder how quickly he could get over here if I called him right now.

I imagine before I have the chance to hang up.

The door chimes as the customer exits the bakery, and Joey comes to stand beside Dylan, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m fine. It’s not contractions or anything,” she reassures, looking back at him and then pressing two fingers to the inside of her wrist. “I’m just feeling anxious for some reason. I think I should take it easy today.”

“Then get your pretty little ass in the back, cupcake. I’m not dealing with that man of yours if you go into early labor due to work-related stress. I’m sure he’ll somehow blame that shit on me.” He guides her in the direction of the kitchen with a gentle push, then comes to stop beside me, dropping his head next to mine.

“Mason missed you at the coffee shop this morning,” he murmurs. “I told him you were up late hitting the sauce.”

“Did you really?” I glare at him as he leans away.

That’s just what I need, Mason thinking he drove me to alcoholism. He’s so fucking sweet he’ll probably pay for my rehab.

He smiles. “No. I said you had to do an early delivery this morning and skipped the coffee. He seemed to buy it.”

I gaze through the shop window. “I know I just got here but . . .”

“But you need to go talk to him.”

Our eyes lock. I nod at his spot-on remark, rubbing my hand down my face. “I’m just so fucking confused, and I need sleep, Joey. My skin doesn’t do well without it. I’m going to start looking like I’m in my thirties.”

“Heaven forbid.” Joey steps back and leans his hip against the counter, exaggerating his stare the longer I look at him. “Go, before Dylan comes back up here and discovers you’re missing.”

“Right.”

I slip behind him and grab an empty bakery box, filling it with four cupcakes.