Taylor was definitely avoiding me.

Well, as much as she could, considering she was still living in my house and working in my office. But even though we were within thirty feet of each other all day every day, it was like she wasn’t really there. Her eyes wouldn’t quite meet mine when we spoke, her smiles were once again fake, and she seized every excuse possible to get away from me.

And I had absolutely no idea why. It had started happening about a week ago. She’d taken a personal day, telling me she had something to do. She refused to tell me what, though, and she’d been gone all day. And when she got home, she was weird. There was just no other word for it.

Take tonight, for instance. It was MorTech’s annual holiday party, which we actually held in February. It was a tradition my dad had started years ago, because he believed that February was the best month ever. He and my mom were married on Valentine’s Day, my siblings and I were all born in February, and spring training games began then, too. So when it came time to celebrate the company he’d founded and the things they’d accomplished together, he chose his favorite month as the time to do it. And I’d gladly kept the tradition alive in his honor.

This year, we rented out a winery in Riverhead for the occasion. The vino was flowing, the employees were laughing and making merry, and even my mom was having a good time. Everyone was dressed in their festive best, showing up to see and be seen.

But I couldn’t find Taylor anywhere. We’d arrived together, but the second someone else caught my attention, she’d disappeared. And given that she was six feet tall in heels and looked like a supermodel, that was quite some feat

Though I now knew that there was more to her, she truly did love to party. Well, here was the party, and no Taylor to be seen.

I scowled at the crowd gathered in the cavernous room, feeling surly. I’d been trying to give her space, trying to be patient and let her come to me with whatever was bothering her. It seemed like the right thing to do, given my campaign to respect her.

But clearly that was the wrong course of action, because now there was a distance between us. And that was just unacceptable. We’d come too far since those first days, when we’d constantly been at each other’s throats, misunderstanding and second-guessing everything the other said and did. I would not go back to that, not without a fight.

“Morgan, honey, when am I going to meet your new assistant?”

My mom looked up at me expectantly. I smiled down at her, because I fucking loved my mom. Always had a hug for me and my younger brother and sister, always gave the best advice, and never put up with anyone’s shit. She was amazing.

Before I could answer, a very unwelcome voice interrupted me.

“Dude, even your mom calls you Morgan?”

I frowned, turning to see Graham fucking Morris giving me a dumb smile. Christ, I hated that guy. He was looking back and forth between my mother and me, like he was playing spot the resemblance. As if that was even hard to do. With her dark hair, freckles, and hazel eyes, she was basically me, just half a foot shorter and minus the beard.

“He’s never liked his first name,” Mom informed my least favorite employee.

“That’s because you named me after your mother,” I muttered.

“You’re named after your grandmother?” the woman at Morris’s side asked in a husky voice. She had long black hair and the most startling eyes I’d ever seen – they were purple, which I did not think was a real thing. “That fucking blows.”

“Julian Hillary Morgan,” my mother said proudly, because while she was amazing, she also loved to razz me endlessly. “My favorite oldest son.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m your only oldest son.”

“Congratulations,” Morris’s dark-haired companion drawled, holding up her wine glass in toast.

“Anyway, honey, where is your assistant?” My mother smiled at me. “I’ve been dying to meet her. She has such a sweet voice over the phone.”

“The weird thing is that she sounds like Barry White in person,” the woman with the purple eyes said without skipping a beat.

My mother chuckled. “Well, I’m sure she’s lovely, with a voice like that.” She looked up at me with a sly smile. “You can always tell by the voice.”

“Nah, she looks like Barry White, too,” the other woman said. Morris laughed, and I grudgingly smiled at his lady friend.

“Oh, sorry. Morgan, this is my wife, Larkin Michaels.”

I raised a brow. “Wife, huh?”

“Yup, just last week.”

A week. Taylor’s best friend had gotten married a week ago. Right around the same time Taylor had started pulling away from me.

What the fuck?

“We’d been together long enough, wouldn’t you say?” Morris was saying now, looking down at his wife.

I frowned, shaking myself out of my thoughts. “Isn’t it only like a couple of months?”

“Four, actually,” Morris replied.

Larkin looked at her watch. “But life is short.” Something dark passed over her face for a second, but then she smiled up at her husband, who nodded knowingly.

I cleared my throat. There was something in the way they looked at each other that made me uncomfortable to be a witness to it, like I’d stumbled into something private, something not for my eyes.

Morris must have taken it as a sign of impatience, though, because he gave me an apologetic look. “Oops. Lark, this is my boss’s boss’s boss, Julian Hillary Morgan.” He gave me a mischievous grin.

I glared at him. “Remind me on Monday that you’re fired, Morris.”

He shrugged. “It’s cool. I married a millionaire.”

He smiled down at his fiancée, and a weird feeling washed over me. It took me a moment, but eventually I realized what it was: envy. They seemed happy, despite everything Taylor had told me they’d been through. Truly happy, which was rare. And though I was glad for them, I also felt a little sad. Would I ever have that with the woman I wanted?

“Not a millionaire anymore,” Larkin said. “And now you’re stuck with me. Sucker.” Then she rubbed her hands together in evil glee, and I decided I liked her. Even if her husband was a dope.

Besides, she was best friends with Taylor, so it would be in my best interest to be friends with her, right? As one of Taylor’s favorite songs had taught me, if I wanted to be her lover, I had to get with her friends, because friendship was forever.

Though I’d honestly never understood that lyric, even as a teenager. What exactly did they mean by “get with” her friends? That actually sounded like a recipe for jealousy and cheating.

“Where the fuck is Taylor?” Larkin’s voice cut through my thoughts. She looked around, frowning when she couldn’t find the woman in question.

I shook my head. “No idea. She’s off duty tonight.” I didn’t elaborate, because she still hadn’t told anyone we were… whatever we were. Roommates with sporadic oral benefits? Future sex partners? Perpetual arguers? Friends? More? Everything? Nothing?

I knew which of those options I wanted. But I wasn’t sure what her wishes were, not after the way she’d been acting this week. Not after the way she’d been acting since our first kiss, really. Don’t get me wrong, I respected that she wanted to wait, to take things slow, and I was willing to be patient.

But was her demand for respect really a way for her to keep me at arm’s length? Was it a way to keep up the façade of the woman who was loved by everyone, but loved no one in return? Was she still hiding the real Taylor from me, after all this time?

I’d wait as long as it took for her to trust me. But could I trust her? Could I put my faith, my heart, in the hands of a woman who wouldn’t give me hers in return?

“Do you know I actually had to convince her to come tonight? It’s a party, and I was more excited about it than she was.” Larkin shook her head. “Clearly we’re in the upside down.”

“Complete with a snarling demon,” my mother said, gesturing to me.

I frowned at her. “I’m canceling your Netflix subscription.”

She shrugged. “It’s fine. Annie still loves me,” she said, referring to my little sister. “She would never be cruel enough to keep me from my shows.”

“I’m worried about her, though. Taylor, I mean,” Larkin clarified, when my mom gave her a confused look. “She still won’t tell me where she’s been staying.” She looked at me, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, boss man?”

All eyes snapped to me, and I swallowed, trying to look as natural as possible. “Maybe she’s staying with her parents?” I lied.

Larkin tipped her head back, laughing. “Good one.”

I stared at her for a beat. Clearly I was missing something here. “What’s so funny?”

Slowly, she frowned. “You’re serious? She hasn’t told you about those deadbeats?”

Deadbeats? What the fuck was she talking about?

I shook my head. “No. She doesn’t tell me much about her personal life.”

My bitterness about that must have been pretty obvious, because my mother gave me a sharp look, her hazel eyes assessing me with the laser-like focus that was unique to parents.

“Yeah, I guess she wouldn’t,” Larkin said. “You know Taylor. ‘Everything’s great!’” she chirped in a pretty good imitation of her best friend. “Plus, no offense, but I don’t think she likes you all that much.” Larkin gave me a look that said ‘tough luck, sucker.’

I frowned. “Yeah, I guess she doesn’t.” My heart sank. Something told me this was important, that the story of her parents was the key to really understanding who she was.

And she hadn’t told me. She hadn’t trusted me with it.

“Oh!” Morris pointed, his eyes catching mine, then skating away. “There she is.”

I turned my head, watching as Taylor walked toward us. And something surged in me, filling my veins and causing my heart to bang around in my chest. It was a feeling like it was now or never. My mind was spinning with everything that I’d heard tonight, and I needed to talk it out with her. I needed her to open up to me, really open up to me, at last.

And I had an idea for how to make it happen, a hail mary pass, if you will. I just needed the opportunity to execute it.

So I didn’t wait for her to get here. With a mumbled excuse to my mother, I marched over to the woman who’d driven me completely insane. The woman who held my heart in her hands, even if she hadn’t figured it out yet.

“Dance with me?” I grabbed her elbow, spinning her toward the dance floor.

“Oh,” she cried, giving me a wide-eyed look. “But I just saw Larkin, I was going to go say hi. And is that your mother? I should really meet her in person.”

“It can wait.” I pulled her gently away from them. “Come on, you love this song.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know it makes my teeth ache, which means it’s probably one of your favorites.”

“Well, when you let me pick the music for a party, you should know you’ll get pop.”

“If I were to let you pick the music for anything, I would know I’d get pop.”

She gave me the ghost of a smile as I spun to face her, putting my hand on her hip. “You know me too well,” she said as she clasped my other hand.

“Do I?” I searched her face, but she was giving nothing away.

“Of course,” she said, waving a hand dismissively before placing it on my shoulder again. “You know me better than most people.”

“But not well enough to know about your parents.”

She frowned. “Julian, we’re at a party,” she hissed. “It’s not something we should talk about here.”

“Then when should we talk about it?” I pressed. “When we’re at home and you’re holed up in your room? Or when we’re at work, and you’re too busy with emails and phone calls and expense reports to have lunch with me? Or when we’re driving, and you’re singing along to the radio so loudly that you can’t hear me talking?”

“Well, I work hard. That’s not a surprise.” Her blue eyes were steely.

I took a few deep breaths, trying not to let my temper get to me. “Look, Taylor, I’m not trying to pick a fight with you.” I held her gaze. “I just want you to open up to me, okay? I want to know you.”

She closed her eyes. “I know. But it’s hard for me, okay? I have a hard time letting people in.” When she opened her eyes again, they were glassy.

I pushed a strand of hair away from her face, not caring that we were standing in a sea of our co-workers. “You’re safe with me, babe. You know that, right?”

She stared at me for a moment, then two, then longer. After what seemed like seventeen years, she nodded. Then she leaned in, resting her chin on my shoulder.

“They live in California,” she whispered. “That’s where I was born. I moved to South Bay when I was four.”

I frowned, something in the way she said it sticking in my mind. “You moved there?”

She nodded. “They sent me to live with my grandmother, my father’s mother. They said their business was growing too fast, and they couldn’t keep up with it and raise me at the same time.” Her body trembled under my hands, and I squeezed her tighter. “So they chose the business.”

I closed my eyes, anger coursing through me. “Assholes.”

She shook her head. “From an objective standpoint, it was a good decision. They make socks, that’s what their company does. And they donate a pretty big portion of their inventory. There’s a huge need for socks at homeless shelters, especially when the weather gets cold.”

I frowned. “That’s very noble of them. They’re a couple of noble assholes.”

She chuckled, her breath tickling my neck. “You sound like Larkin.”

“I knew I liked her.”

She leaned back, looking at me with swimming eyes. “Things aren’t so black and white with them. They’re good people who give to charity, who do good works. And they’re also bad parents.” She shrugged, but it looked like it took a lot of effort. “I get that now, as twenty-five-year-old Taylor, the girl who understands moral relativism. But when I was four, my parents were my entire world. And when they gave me up, I thought it was my fault. I thought they just didn’t love me enough, that I wasn’t lovable enough for them to stay.”

I nodded, my heart breaking for four-year-old Taylor. And for the grown woman standing in front of me, the woman who desperately needed everyone to love her.

“So I decided everyone was going to love me,” she confirmed. “And I worked hard at it. I never take no for an answer, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

I smiled, thinking of the day I’d interviewed, when she’d insisted she was already hired, and then proceeded to show me exactly why that would be the best decision I’d ever make.

And now, so many months later, she was right.

“Anyone who didn’t like me, I worked and worked and worked until they did. Like Larkin. She hated me when we first met.” She sighed. “And my parents, too. They love me in their own way.”

I frowned. “So is that what this is between us?” I asked. “Am I just a challenge? A way to keep your perfect score?”

She smiled at me. “That’s the way it started,” she admitted. “But it wasn’t long before it became something else altogether. You drove me crazy, you know?”

I chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”

Her fingers ran over my beard, smoothing down a wily patch. “You grew to mean a lot more to me than I ever thought you would. More than anyone else in my life, Julian.”

Time seemed to slow as I stared at her. “I thought you were pulling away,” I admitted, not even caring how desperate I sounded.

She bit her lip. “I was freaking out.”

“Why?” I squeezed her hip.

“Because I went to Larkin and Graham’s wedding. Larkin’s second wedding. She’s twenty-five and she was marrying the second great love of her life. And I realized that it might never happen to me.” She swallowed roughly. “I might never get married.”

I frowned. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I pushed you away,” she whispered. “I spent so much time trying to be perfect for you that I hid away all the things that are imperfect. I wanted you to see the real me, but I never shared her with you.”

I nodded. “It wasn’t really fair to me. You set me this impossible task of getting to know you, but you didn’t give me anything to work with.”

She blinked, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I was the worst.”

I shook my head. “No, Taylor, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

She inhaled sharply. “Really?”

I nodded. “Definitely. But do me a favor, okay?”

“Anything,” she said immediately.

“Stop trying to be the best. Just be you.”

She nodded seriously. “I can do that.” Her blue eyes gleamed in the soft light of the catering hall. “But what if I am the best? I am pretty fabulous.”

“You are, aren’t you?”

She laughed. “I mean, look at me. I look good.” She stepped back, smoothing her hands over her hips, which were encased in yet another knockout pink dress. “And I do it on a budget.”

I took a deep breath. “Yeah, about that.”

She smiled. “Ooh, am I getting another raise?”

I shook my head. “Not this time.” I planted my feet wide, bracing myself for impact. “Taylor, you’re fired.”