Liam cocked an eyebrow at Connor as they sat in the living room, half-watching TV while waiting for the Yankees-Orioles game to resume from its rain delay.

“You’re not going to answer that?” he asked, nodding at Connor’s phone, which buzzed with a new text every fifteen minutes or so. “It’s the rain day rush. Your favorite,” he smirked.

Connor rubbed his bleary eyes. A rain day rush referred to the increased volume of girls who texted for booty calls because of the dreary weather. With a brief glance down the couch, Connor shook his head.

“Too far,” he said of his phone. It sat slightly more than an arm’s reach away – a distance far too great for him and his massive hangover this morning.

After the way things had ended last night with Peyton, Connor had needed to call Liam to come over and hang out. But since it was 2AM and Liam was already drunk from being out with Amanda, Connor had needed a few Scotches to catch up. And then both he and Liam had several more Scotches together and gotten the kind of drunk that resulted in pain and uselessness the following morning. Normally, Connor hated waking up that way. He drank to the point of a hangover on perhaps three nights out of the full calendar year – his birthday, Liam’s birthday and New Year’s Eve. But this morning, he didn’t mind the nausea and dead limbs. He needed distraction of any form after the severe case of blue-balling Peyton had served him last night.

Despite a great dinner and an even better nightcap, they - once again - hadn’t had sex.

After dinner in the brick room at the tavern, they had finished a second bottle of wine. Then, to Connor’s surprise, Peyton had kissed him. It had been out of nowhere. He’d topped her glass of red off, finishing the bottle before tossing it and bringing their dishes to the sink. He had wanted her to sit and relax while he quickly cleaned but the second he turned on the water, he felt her warm body behind him, nestling against his back, her lithe arms circling around him.

“Thank you for dinner,” she murmured into his shoulder, sounding content and sleepy. When he turned around, Connor had to grin at the sight of Peyton completely melting against his chest. He stood still for a moment, gazing down as she leaned against him. She wasn’t the type of girl to lean on anyone – he knew that – and for that reason, he found himself luxuriating in the feeling of all her weight on his chest as she closed her eyes and sighed. He found himself wanting to hold her up, prepared for her knees to buckle so he could lift her and set her onto the counter.

And just as he expected, they did. She laughed at her tipsy self and wrapped her arms around his neck when he easily hoisted her onto the sink. As she kissed him, he reached blindly around her to turn off the water, soaking his hands in the process, and playfully running them all over Peyton’s body to dry.

Of course the joke was on him when he pulled away and feasted his eyes upon the sight of her soaked, completely translucent fucking dress. Her hair tousled, her lips swollen, her breasts so evidently naked under that wet, white cloth, Connor could feel losing control. He was so turned on it actually hurt. His muscles clenched as he ached with the desperate need to strip Peyton naked and bury his cock deep inside of her.

But as her head rested on his shoulder, he realized that it wasn’t the time.

Despite the bursts of lively, breathless energy that fooled him otherwise, she wasn’t sober. And while he wasn’t either, he forced himself to calm the fuck down and pull away. He wasn’t one to romanticize first times with girls, but for some reason, he couldn’t have sex with a drunk Peyton on top of the sink.

So he called her a car, kissed her goodnight and went straight home. Before looking at his phone and the guaranteed sexts that always flooded in at midnight, he got in the shower and jacked it like a beast to the thought of Peyton.

He pictured her long, dark waves spilling over her tanned shoulders, framing the picture of her full breasts covered in her wet dress. He imagined her gorgeous face and the torturous sounds that loved to escape those perfect lips of hers. When he thought back to the Bahamas and how good his fingers felt inside her, he braced himself with an arm on the tile and came harder than he ever had in his life.

And only after that did he let himself go near his phone.

Waiting for him had been five texts from three girls, all interested in the same thing. Connor ignored them all, but knowing the nature of his own sexual appetite, he decided to be safe and sabotage any possible chance of relieving his lust for Peyton with another girl.

So he called his best friend for distraction.

With Liam, he talked shit, got hammered and by dawn, fell asleep on the couch with Liam passed out in the guest room. But now, it was past noon and they were slowly returning to reality. With a wedding cake tasting scheduled for 3PM, Liam had Amanda picking him up in an hour.

“Thanks, man,” Liam said as he caught the fresh T-shirt that Connor tossed him to borrow. “Really don’t want to go to this thing smelling like a whisky distillery.”

“You mean Amanda doesn’t want you going to the tasting smelling like whisky distillery,” Connor said as he collapsed back onto the couch.

“That too. But because she wouldn’t want me to, I wouldn’t want me to. If that makes sense.”

“If anything, it makes me nauseous.”

“Please.” Liam snorted as he sat up on the couch. “You can’t give me shit about this stuff anymore. I mean aren’t you the guy who cooked dinner last night for a girl you’re not even dating? Who you haven’t had sex with, who’s making you subconsciously ignore the rain day rush today?” he asked with the shit-eating grin of a man who was a hundred percent right. “I’ve known you for fifteen years, brother, and these are literally first times for everything. And, look, I know it makes you question your identity but you’ll feel better when you just admit that you really fucking like this girl,” Liam laughed as he returned to the couch.

“I never denied that I like her.”

“Yeah, but you like her a lot.”

“What are you, five?”

“Am I lying? You like her a lot. An unprecedented amount. And it’s making you act fucking weird and defensive and the kind of soft you like to kill me for every chance you get.”

“Hey. You’re the one who’s about to spend the next two hours analyzing sprinkles and frosting.”

“Fair enough. But could you see yourself marrying a girl like Peyton?”

Connor paused. Briefly, he imagined rolling over in bed at night and feeling her there.

“Holy shit.”

Connor blinked over at Liam. “What?”

The shit-eating grin returned with a force, but Liam was silent, simply studying Connor for a second before relenting. “Nothing, man,” he said just as the concierge buzzed to ask Connor if he was expecting Amanda Nathan.

And from the moment she entered, he was forced to watch Liam and Amanda be exceedingly mushy and lovey-dovey as always. For some reason, he minded it less this afternoon. Still, he absently flipped the channels on the TV as the two then did that thing where they murmured a quick but intimate conversation while sneaking kisses between words.

“Alright, guys.” Connor snorted when it got egregious. “I know you think you’re being subtle about your love right now, but you’re not.”

Amanda grinned. “I’d accuse you of being jealous, but I hear you’ve got your own secret love going on right now.”

Connor shot Liam a look that said really? Liam held his hands out.

“What?” he laughed. “She’s my wife. I tell her things.”

Connor smirked. Normally, he’d point out that Amanda was still just his fiancée, but he didn’t feel like being an asshole today.

“So…” Amanda wiggled her eyebrows as she looked at Connor. “Who is this Peyton Greene? What’s she look like? Can I see?” she asked before catching herself. “Oh shit, right. You don’t take pictures and selfies are evil.”

Connor chewed on his lip as he eyed his phone on the table. She was right. He was the only person he knew with a camera roll of less than twenty pictures, most of them being the scenery at the top of Jay Peak in Vermont, where he snowboarded most. But last night, he couldn’t help taking a picture of Peyton in her little white dress while she gazed out the big, arched window in the brick room. When she caught him doing so, he agreed to let her take a picture of him as well. One thing led to another and eventually, somehow, a dual selfie happened.

“Holy shit, you took a selfie with her,” Amanda gasped as she watched him swipe through his photos.

Liam looked up from his own phone. “What?”

“Connor took a selfie with his date last night!”

Liam’s eyes went wide. “You took a selfie?”

Connor only laughed as he ignored them both.

“Dude. We’ve never even taken a selfie,” Liam feigned hurt.

“Aww,” Amanda cooed. “Should we all take a selfie together right now?”

“Alright, we’re done here. Both of you get out of my apartment,” Connor said, and though he was mostly kidding, they did.

At the door, after he said goodbye to Amanda, Liam stopped for a moment. “You have the next five days off. You should spend more time with her.”

Connor smirked. “And you should stop telling Amanda that I’ll eventually have someone to take on double dates.”

“Why? Something tells me it’ll be a reality soon.”

Connor snorted. “Get your ass out of here and go sample wedding cakes, lover boy.”

“You wish you could sample wedding cakes,” Liam called down the hallway. Before getting into the elevator, he added one last thing that did manage to pique Connor’s interest. “You should take Peyton to the farmhouse. It’s the only place you guys won’t get followed.”