I was fucking doomed.

It was my fault. I’d already polished off a bottle of wine by the time Josh arrived at my room, and I was making good headway on a second one. Or… had I polished off two, and now I was on my third? I genuinely couldn’t remember. But when I opened my hotel door and saw Josh standing there, I knew I was doomed. I should not have invited him up.

I was… approaching drunk. Maybe already drunk. Maybe way too drunk.

Because looking at him made me… feel things, things I knew I shouldn’t have been feeling at all. Earlier, in the garden, it had been hard for me to even look him in the eye without melting into a pool of apologies and begging for forgiveness. And now, seeing him mixed with the sappy sentimentality of the alcohol in me... I felt weak in front of him. The kind of weak where I knew I would tell him any secret, or do anything he said, and all he would have to do was ask.

His eyes saw right through me, and every damn wall I put up with other men just didn’t seem to work on him.

Fuck.

He was leaning against the doorframe, one hand smoothing out his hair, the other stuffed deep in his pocket. He’d changed out of his work uniform and into his day clothes, which I swore looked like something straight out of a James Dean photoshoot—a fitted white t-shirt and well-worn black jeans.

He looked up at me—those wide, blue eyes framed by dark lashes—and it took me a second to muster some sense of composure.

You’re the owner of this hotel, and you’re smoothing things out with an employee, I told myself. And you’re very, very sober. Yep. Sober.

“Welcome,” I said, gesturing him inside. “Thank you for stopping by—for coming, I mean. To my suite.”

He glanced sidelong at me before stepping inside. He stood at the precipice of the living room, looking around as if he wasn’t sure what to do next. Instantly, the room felt different with him inside, his presence putting all my nerve endings at attention.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” he said.

“What?”

He gestured around the room, lifting an eyebrow. “You’ve really… made it your own.”

I realized at once that he was joking. “Oh, shut up,” I said, giving him a half-smile. I hadn’t touched a single thing in the living room since arriving four days earlier. The only thing that would indicate I existed was the table that now housed five different wine bottles near the corner of the room.

“Go ahead, sit down, sit,” I said, motioning toward the couch. I hoped he didn’t notice as I swayed a little.

“Right. Sorry,” he said, taking the other couch opposite from me. “I’m so used to working in these rooms, I don’t think I’ve ever… actually sat in one.”

“Can I get you a glass of wine?” I asked, as I went to pour myself yet another glass. It was a bad idea. I knew it was. But wine comforted me, reminded me of Oregon, and my old life, a place where I had some semblance of knowing what the fuck I was doing.

And sure, yes, fine, I also liked that the wine made everything fuzzy around the edges, and took away the sharp blade of guilt that I’d had around Josh earlier that day.

“God, I really shouldn’t have any wine,” he replied. “Appreciate it, though.”

“Offer stands, if you change your mind,” I said as I went back over, sitting on the couch opposite from him. The low light of the room made him look different than he had earlier, out in daylight. His features had a beauty I hadn’t seen before, his hard look softened and was somehow almost elegant.

“You look good, Josh. It’s... nice to see you out of your work clothes.”

“Um… thanks,” he said. “I’ve tried to suggest the classic black-and-white maid dresses for our uniforms, but your mother’s been pretty cold to the idea.”

I snorted, and finally, a small smile appeared on his face. A silence followed, though, and Josh looked as if he might leap off the sofa at any point and run for the door. My brain ran through every possibility of what to do or say to make him comfortable, but I came up short every time.

“Listen, God—I know you probably hate me,” I said. “Hell, I’d hate me if I were you, too.”

He couldn’t hide the panic in his eyes. “Did—did you invite me up here to give me a formal write-up, or something?”

“What? God, no,” I replied. “What would I even have to write you up for?”

His eyes met mine. “You know… the things I said earlier. In front of your mom.”

“No,” I replied, “No, no, no. I invited you up here because I want to get to know you, Josh.”

A sinking feeling came over my stomach. Bad, bad bad. Everything I was doing wrong. I wasn’t used to being in charge of anyone at all, and I had no idea that Josh might think he was in trouble. Nothing was further from the truth.

I put down my wine glass. “I… just want to start fresh.”

He settled in on the couch a little more. I could still see a shade of the awkward, timid Josh that I’d seen ten years ago at the party. I wished I didn’t find it so appealing, so goddamn adorable. I wanted to leap across the table and take him in my arms.

And then take him to my bed. And take off his clothes. Lick every inch of him, make him gasp, learn how he tasted—

“Are… you okay, Adrian?” he asked, peering over at me, his eyes narrowed.

I blinked. “Hm?”

“Can I ask how many glasses of wine you’ve had tonight?” he said, a little smirk on his face. “I can come back another time, if—”

“No, no, no! Stay,” I said, emphasizing the last word a little too strongly. I got up, crossing over to the couch he was on, and I sat down next to him. I sank into the plush cushions. “God, these are comfortable couches.”

He laughed a little. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. I’ve never sat on one, but god damn, they’re good.”

I smiled at him, feeling the heat of the alcohol on my cheeks. “I’ve… had a few glasses of wine. A few more than a few,” I admitted.

He nodded. “I thought so.”

I was so close to him now, on the same couch. I’d half expected him to get up and run away when I’d come to sit by him, but to my surprise, he stayed put, looking at me with something like amusement in his eyes.

He was so painfully fucking pretty up close. He was gently biting his bottom lip, and I wanted so badly to reach out and pull it down with my thumb.

Bad, drunk brain.

I scrubbed my palms over my face, taking a deep breath. “I’m a little drunk. I won’t lie. But I still wanna talk with you,” I said. “I… really want to.”

He paused for a moment, and I was sure I’d said too much. I mustered whatever courage I could find and finally glanced over at him again. “Okay,” he said. “Not about work stuff? Just a friendly conversation?”

“Exactly. Completely friendly,” I replied.

And then I reached another stalling point. Because, after all, Josh and I had never really been friends to begin with. He’d been a more important part of my high school experience than any of my friends, and he stuck in my memory more than anyone in the entire school, but… we’d only known each other for one night.

One incredible night, that I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to catch the feeling of again.

There was so much I wanted to know about him, and I had no idea where to begin. I guessed that I should start with the obvious—start with where we left off.

“How was college? The Rhode Island School of Design?” I asked.

Josh looked genuinely surprised. “You remember that I went there?”

“Of course I do,” I said. “I was… really impressed. You must have been an incredible artist. That’s a great school.”

He nodded, looking down. “It was,” he said. “Might seem surprising, seeing as how I’m working... here, now.”

“Not at all,” I said.

“My time at RISD was fucking incredible. I got to just paint all day, every day, with a bunch of other brilliant, crazy artists. It was intense, and stressful, and wonderful.”

“Art school always sounded crazy to me. Did anyone do those insane performance art pieces? You know, where they stand naked at the front of a room and pour spaghetti over their head—”

“—and it’s supposed to be some commentary on how consumerism is killing us,” he said, a small smile on his face. “Yes. I saw more than a few performance art pieces. Some of them incredible, some of them… were just spaghetti.”

“But you got to follow your dream,” I said. “You stuck with painting. That’s more than most people can say.”

He shook his head. “Well, not quite. Once I got out of the college bubble, it was pretty much downhill from there.”

Josh’s face changed, his expression tightening as he looked down at the floor. I could tell it was a sensitive subject for him, and I wasn’t sure how to go on.

“Not what you expected?” I asked.

“Little work, little pay, and a lot of... drugs in the community.” He paused for a moment, looking me in the eye. “I’ve been drug-free for two years now, though, and to be honest, I’m more proud of that than I am of any painting I’ve ever completed.”

“Wow. Shit, I had no idea. Are you sober, too? I can get rid of the wine—”

He waved a hand. “No. I still have a wine or beer with dinner sometimes. Alcohol was never my issue. But… I appreciate it.”

Josh really had lived a whole life in the time we’d been apart. I never could have guessed that he had gotten into that world.

“I can’t believe it, Josh.”

He hitched one shoulder up in a shrug. “A lot of people said that. My mom, especially. ‘Oh, Joshy, I never thought you, of all people, could fall into that world.’ But I guess I’ve just… always been the type of person to try anything once. Even things that are bad for me.”

My heart ached, imagining him struggling.

But the man in front of me didn’t look like he was struggling at all, now. In fact, he seemed to have it together more than I did.

“So the painting is something you do on the side, now?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I haven’t been painting much since I got clean. First it was just because I was in pain, but then it just… became a habit. Every time I think about starting with my art again, it just reminds me of the hours on end I used to spend painting, up all night high on this drug or that drug. Way too toxic. I have no desire to go back to that.”

He picked at a stray thread on his jeans, biting his bottom lip. It was the first time all day I’d seen his face really fall. He looked even sadder talking about painting than he did talking about his addictions.

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

He cracked a small smile, looking up at me. “See? You should have just called me up for a work meeting, after all. Getting to know me is such a drag.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “It isn’t a drag in the slightest,” I said. “Everyone has tough times. You’re an incredible worker, according to Mason and Grace. It sounds like you’re doing just fine.”

“You really believe that? Even after all the shit I pulled earlier?”

“Enough about that. I want to forget this afternoon ever happened.”

He watched me, unconvinced. “You’re my boss now, Adrian. I know I fucked up today.”

I waved a hand. “Water under the bridge. We can chalk it up to adjustment pains.”

He nodded, his face finally softening a bit.

“If I’m being honest, I had plenty of my own, too. Do you think I expected to start this job—this terrifying, huge new job—and walk in to see my first kiss working at the hotel? Jesus, I could have passed out.”

Josh nodded. “Lord, don’t I know it. I couldn’t believe it when I first saw you, either. That night… was a long time ago,” he said. “Seeing you was crazy. It feels like a lifetime has passed, but weirdly also like no time at all.”

A long silence filled the room, expanding so much that it felt like it was going to burst.

“I thought about it a lot, you know,” I finally said, feeling like the words would strangle me from within if I didn’t let them out. Josh’s eyes snapped to mine, as if he was just as surprised that I was talking about it.

“Me too,” he replied.

“I… I don’t know if you even care anymore, or if you even remember things like I do, but—Josh, I’m sorry that it happened how it did. I… know I fucked up. I was so, so fucking scared.”

He was watching me carefully, as if he was working to restrain himself somehow. “I know you were,” he said.

“But that doesn’t mean it didn’t mean the world to me,” I said. “That night was one of the better ones I’ve had.”

Josh looked away for a moment, but then his eyes were on me again. “You remember the moon that night?” Josh asked.

I swallowed. “I remember it. Harvest moon.”

“Every fucking time I see a harvest moon, I remember it,” Josh said, shaking his head. “It’s so stupid. For fuck’s sake, we were high schoolers, it was our first kiss, it should have been nothing. But… every harvest moon I see takes me back to that night.”

A surge of something like hope rolled through me. Josh really hadn’t forgotten me.

“They do for me, too,” I said. “God. You have no idea how many times I wanted to try to track you down, find out where you were and give you a call, at least. But I thought for sure you’d hate me. And I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did. So… I never called.”

He nodded. “I did hate you, for the first few years,” he said. “After that I got so caught up with the art scene and drugs that I wasn’t exactly capable of real emotions at all. Just a barrel of fun.”

“I know I deserved that hate. But I hope I can win back your respect now,” I said, my voice a little quiet. “I want to try, Josh.”

His expression was unreadable. “I admit, I did actually look you up, once,” he said. “You worked in a vineyard?”

“Yes,” I said, so thankful for the change in topic. I was liable to start crying or lose my mind or kiss him if we kept talking about that night. “I actually started working there as a janitor. Took me a while to work up to being a server in the wine tasting room, and then helping out with the winemaking. It was great. I had no money, but I didn’t care.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Your parents weren’t paying your way to Oregon?” he asked quickly, then flushed red. “Shit—I didn’t mean it like that—”

I laughed softly. “Trust me, I don’t mind,” I said. Josh was still blushing, covering his mouth with a hand, but slowly he let it drop.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Of course,” I replied. “My parents did help me with money in the beginning, with the move and the first few months of rent. But after that, I always wanted to be on my own. There were a few dire months where I had to ask for loans, but I was very explicit that they were loans, not gifts. I wanted to pay them back in full.”

He nodded. “Lord, you have no idea how well I understand that.”

“I… still owe my parents, actually. It’s part of why I accepted this job. It isn’t really what I wanted, but it was the only sensible thing to do, so… I’m doing it.”

Josh’s brow furrowed. “You mean you didn’t want to inherit the hotel?”

“God, no,” I said. “I mean—I’m going to do the job the best I can, and I know that it’s an important one. My Grandpop started this hotel, and I’m going to work like hell to uphold his dream. But… it isn’t my dream.”

Josh’s face held genuine surprise. “I thought for sure that this was your triumphant return to Mistview Heights, that you were coming to take over the family business and ascend to millionaire status in style.”

I laughed. “Not exactly,” I said. “I’m… not really that kind of guy.”

“Well, you certainly look the part,” Josh said, eyeing me up and down and clicking his tongue. Something in me stirred, having his eyes so clearly roaming over my body, and I adjusted a little in my seat.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just mean that you look every bit a Terrance,” Josh said. “Y’know, that wealthy, clean, hot hotel heir type of thing. I don’t think you’re going to have one bit of trouble finding women who want you. Your mother is damn right about that.”

I rolled my eyes. “Do me a favor and don’t mention my mother. I can’t wait until she is out of here. But… thank you.”

I hadn’t missed that Josh had described me as “hot”—I knew it shouldn’t have mattered to me, but something about having his approval had reignited the fizzle in my stomach.

Just then, there was a loud knock at the door. Josh’s eyes darted over toward it, and I got up.

“Fuck,” I said, the room spinning a little as I stood. I held out my arms. “I forgot exactly how drunk I was until I stood up. Let me see who that is.”

“Do I need to get out of here?” Josh asked.

I shook my head quickly. “No. No way. Just give me a minute.”

Mason was outside the door, looking eager and energetic with his black-rimmed glasses and a phone in his hand.

“Sir—I mean, Adrian—are you ready to go to the event?”

“Event?” Mason may as well have been speaking a different language. I had no clue what he was talking about. “Mason, I’m about six wine glasses in. Got any more specifics for me?”

“Oh,” he said, his eyes wide. He looked down at his phone. “The event you have scheduled in fifteen minutes. Just down the road, the Winters family is hosting their biannual gala? We spoke about it earlier today?”

“Oh, right, right,” I said, quickly turning back to the room. Josh was still sitting, inspecting the large bouquet of flowers on the coffee table in front of him. “Ah… Mason, I don’t think I can attend tonight. I’m sure the Winters’ won’t miss me at all.”

“Is... everything alright with Mr. Crane?” Mason asked, keeping his voice low as he peeked over my shoulder at Josh inside.

“What? Oh—of course,” I said. “There’s no problem, Mason. We’re just getting to know one another. Josh and I went to high school together.”

Mason narrowed his gaze, and leaned toward me, speaking in a low tone. “Is everything satisfactory with his cleaning of your suite?”

“Satisfactory?” I said, hiccupping shortly after. I took a deep breath. “Josh is fuckin’ amazing.”

Mason nodded quickly. “Alright, understood. I’ll remove tonight’s event from your calendar. And I’ll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early.”

I nodded.

“And Adrian—” he said, as I was starting to close the door.

“Hm?”

He gave me a confident look. “Do remember to drink a lot of water tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, smiling after him as he rocketed off down the hallway.

“Do you need to be somewhere else?” Josh asked as I walked back over to the living room and sank down onto the couch next to him.

“Not anymore,” I said, smiling at him.

A look of worry crossed over his face. “Adrian… I don’t want to fuck up your work schedule—if you have somewhere to be, don’t worry about me. I can go home anytime.”

“I don’t want to be with anyone other than you, right now,” I said. “I mean it. There was a gala that I was going to attend, but hundreds of people will be there. I will not be missed.”

“...If you’re sure,” Josh said, some hesitation still in his eyes. But he finally began to sit back in his seat, getting comfortable again.

“I promise you, I’ll be going to more galas and fundraisers and events than I can stand soon enough. I already have about ten of them on my schedule over the next few months.”

“Jesus. Wow,” he said. “That’s what you have to do?”

“Dear God, yes,” I said. “I don’t think I’m going to like it. But it’s the right thing to do.” I reached out to the glass of wine on the coffee table, tossing back half of it in one gulp. That was probably a bad idea.

“I think you’ll hate the job a lot less than you think once your parents are fully out of the picture,” Josh said.

“Hope so.”

“Are you sure you want this job?” he asked. “You don’t really seem to like it.”

“I like… some aspects of it,” I said. “I like… the hotel itself, you know, keeping Grandpop’s dream alive.”

“But there are things you really don’t want,” Josh said softly.

“I can’t stand the damn scrutiny,” I said, shaking my head. “All the investors, the local news interested in what my decisions will be, my every move being public… my parents and my sister have even been in tabloid magazines. For Christ’s sake, some people read those things. I don’t know what I would do if I ever ended up in something like that. Fuckin’ nightmare.”

Josh nodded. “You will definitely be in the public eye,” he said. “People love to talk. But… you’ll do just fine. People are already excited to have a new face of the Terrance Hotel, especially your face. I’m sure the investors agree.”

“I just hope they say good things about me.” I hiccuped again.

“Well, so long as you pay each and every one of them the salary of two hundred thousand dollars a year that they expect. Then they’ll say good things about you.”

My eyes flew wide, and I felt a chill in my veins. “Jesus—are you serious?”

He laughed, and I saw the corners of his eyes crinkle up again. “You’re adorable,” he said, shaking his head a little. “I’m just joking.” He reached out and squeezed my arm, and the warmth of his hand on me sent a zing straight through my body.

Good Lord. I wanted to fucking devour him.

I shook my head slowly, watching Josh’s face. “I’m going to have to get used to that.”

“To what?”

“You… preying on how gullible I am.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be so gullible, Adrian.” He smiled around the words, teasingly. “I could have way too much fun with that.” He reached out toward me again, brushing back a lock of my hair that had fallen in front of my eyes.

Was he… flirting with me?

“Jesus, Josh,” I whispered, letting out a breath, unable to tear my eyes away from his lips.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“You tell me,” I replied.

He cocked his head to one side. “I… think I’m gonna get you a glass of water,” he said, standing quickly and heading over toward my tiny kitchen. As soon as he was out of eyesight I leaned back on the couch, pinched the bridge of my nose, and took several deep breaths.

Control yourself, Adrian, I repeated in my head. Employer, and employee. Nothing more.

But all I could think about was how his hand had felt on me, how his eyes looked when he smiled.

How beautiful he’d looked when he’d been so flushed.

I turned, adjusting how I was sitting on the couch, because I’d just gone and gotten myself hard.

Josh returned soon with a big glass of ice water, and I gratefully accepted it, chugging half the glass.

“Thank you,” I said, finally able to look at him again. “I’m… so sorry about this.”

“You’re fine,” he said. “Just want to make sure you don’t have a nasty hangover tomorrow.”

“You’re so damn sweet,” I said, taking another deep breath. “Wow, I think I need to lie down. The room is… spinning, a little.”

“C’mon,” Josh said, standing and holding out his hand. I looked up at him, confused for a moment. He just raised his eyebrows, gesturing down at his hand.

And so I reached out and took it. He helped me up off the couch, and grabbed my glass of water in his other hand.

“Josh—you really don’t have to do this—” I said, shaking my head.

“Shh,” he said, leading the way to the bedroom. “I’m doing it because I want to.”

He took me down the short hall to the bedroom, and instantly the cooler air and the darkness felt better than even the low light of the living room. “You’re right,” I said. “It’s… bedtime.”

“Yep,” he agreed.

The only light in the room was coming through the big windows, and I lay down, kicking off my shoes and tossing away my jacket before collapsing onto the pillows.

“Probably wanna take this off, too,” Josh said, reaching down and skating his fingers over my silk tie.

“Oh,” I said, distracted by the feeling of his fingertips gliding down my chest. My cock stirred again in my pants. “Thanks.”

I loosened the tie, and he graciously took it from me, setting it on the dresser at the far side of the room.

“Here’s your water,” he said, gesturing at the nightstand, and then he ran over to the bathroom, returning a moment later. “And here are two ibuprofen for the morning.”

“You’re some sort of fuckin’ angel,” I said, staring up at his face in the thin, blue light.

“I’m just a good employee,” he said, smiling down at me. But his smile fell as he reached down again, smoothing out my hair.

“God, you shouldn’t touch me like that, Josh,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He drew his hand away. “I’m sorry—” he whispered, his brow furrowed.

“No, no—I didn’t mean it like that,” I said. “I promise. I’m just… I’m just really drunk, and I’m overwhelmed. That’s all.”

He nodded, his face softening into understanding. I didn’t think it was possible, but he was even more beautiful in this blue light, standing at my bed. “Goodnight, Adrian,” he said.

“Thank you,” I replied.

Already, I felt lonelier, just knowing he was leaving. But as he walked out and I heard the light click of my suite door shutting, I knew it was the right thing. What did I expect, after all? Him to slide into bed next to me and hold me close all night?

I turned over in bed, feeling the cool sheets underneath my cheek. It had been stupid to wonder whether he was flirting with me earlier, anyway.

Because it couldn’t be. Hadn’t he just finished explaining why he used to hate me? Someone like Josh couldn’t want anything to do with me. He was a smart, talented, driven person and now I was just another guy in a suit.

I knew I was just doing what I always did: looking for some sort of affection, something to satisfy the big, vague longing inside me. It had always been like this, ever since the night I’d met Josh, so long ago. Looking for the secret ingredient that would make me feel less alone.

Something inside my body had tricked me into thinking Josh was the answer, as every cell inside me woke up at once, and my desire for him bloomed all over again.

But that always happened to me with guys that I brought over. I thought being with them would satisfy me, that I’d finally feel whole. And afterwards, I never did. It was better to nip those feelings in the bud now—while I was still in Josh’s good graces.

There was no point in going down any other avenue of thought.

But still. There was that smile on his lips, that twinkle in his eyes as he teased me. It stirred up a dangerous, dark place inside me, a place that I’d been beating back for my entire life.

I wanted him bad. And I had no fucking clue how I was supposed to stop it.