I’m an upright statue. Solidified.

I hoped my earlier question would be forgotten or die. No one ever censors themselves in front of security. I usually wouldn’t care either, but this is the very, very beginning of whatever is going on between us.

I don’t need Farrow to know that I just asked my dad and two uncles about lube. A conversation that I had with Farrow—and I can’t backtrack without appearing suspicious.

I have to barrel forward.

“A friend told me that silicone-based is better. I was curious what you guys thought.” I stomp down the urge to glance at Farrow. I’m not about to let my dad or uncles see that I correlate lube with my bodyguard.

But I imagine his stretched smile and hearing him say, so pure.

My neck scorches. A first-time customer to Mortified-R-Us.

My dad’s brows pinch. “What friend?”

I have friends that are employees and then I have family. I don’t trust anyone else, and my dad is aware. I say the only possibility. “Janie.”

Connor stares straight through me, his fingers to his jaw. “I’m certain my daughter knows that silicone degrades silicone.” He means silicone lube destroys sex toys.

“She has an Asshole With Benefits,” I remind them. “Nate.”

“We know,” they all say, not the biggest fans of Nate either. But they’ve never met him.

I’m the only one who meets the AWBs.

Tabloids post photos of Jane out at nightclubs with the same person. Nate is the fourth and current AWB. They also have photos of those same guys with other girls. Media and fans hesitate to call them “boyfriends” because they’re not.

AWB #1 & #2 wanted his fifteen minutes of fame.

AWB #3 wanted to jump-start his acting career.

And now Nate AWB #4 wants the thousand-dollar bottles of champagne.

Janie always says their intentions don’t matter because she only wants sex and they respect her in bed. Which she struggles to find. A lot more than me. It’s why she can’t just hookup so casually like I can. She has to hang onto the same guy for a while.

But I want Jane to be with someone who wants all of her. Not just her fame. Not just her wealth. She’s one of the best people in this damn world. Beautiful inside and out. And if the guys she’s sleeping with see less than that—then they’re not fucking good enough for her.

Case closed.

My dad makes a scrunched face. “I’d never predict in a thousand millenniums that I’d know my niece’s lube preference.”

“You asked,” I say.

“Regrets.” He puts a hand to his heart.

“Water-based lube is fucking better,” Ryke says. “Doesn’t stain the sheets and feels way more natural.”

Connor arches his brow and tells me, “That’s if you want to listen to the one who hasn’t had anal sex in two decades and counting.”

I risk a glance at Farrow, and he still faces the windows. But I spot the beginning of his out-of-control smile. I tear my gaze off him quickly and look at my dad. He’s not the most perceptive person in the room, and his attention is on his brother and best friend.

Ryke groans. “Fuck you, Cobalt.”

Connor grins. “That’s become your ineloquent way of saying Connor Cobalt is always right.”

Ryke gives him two middle fingers.

Connor focuses on me. “My preference depends on what I’m doing. Word of advice, silicone is preferred for anal, especially if you plan to bottom.” He was with men and women before he married Rose Calloway. Whereas my dad and Ryke are straight.

I weirdly and strangely know that my mom’s favorite position is anal because of asshole teenagers in prep school. They found the info online, and they just loved to remind me.

As I think for a second, I find a way to gain the upper-hand and maybe throw Farrow off-kilter. “I top most of the time.”

Farrow pops a bubble with his gum. Drawing my gaze towards him automatically. He slightly turns his head, but he stops himself and fully faces the window.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Connor asks me.

“What?” My head swerves to my uncle. “No.”

My dad tries to shelter his worry, but creases line his forehead, brows cinched. He hates that I’m into one-night stands and NSA sex. In a snap second, he glances at my bodyguard. “Farrow.”

No.

Farrow turns to us, chewing gum. “Yeah?”

“You know I’m trusting you to keep my son safe.” My dad’s glare could slaughter livestock and flocks of geese. “Whenever he brings a stranger into his room alone, he’s putting himself in danger, and you’re the only goddamn one who can help him—”

“Pretty sure I can help myself,” I interject.

Farrow bites down on his chewing gum, smiling wide. “Listen to your dad, wolf scout. You need me.”

I shake my head, trying so damn hard not to smile, too. “I need less of you.”

He tilts his head. “Said no one ever.”

“Glad I could be your first,” I say dryly. The banter is pretty common between us. No one should be suspicious.

My dad relaxes back and looks between Ryke and Connor. “Not that I care if it happens, but…do you realize that all of our eldest children have never been in real relationships?”

“Is it a pattern or a coincidence?” Connor muses out loud, but I bet he already knows the answer.

Jane, Sulli, and me—the oldest three of each family—have the most pressure concerning who we date. It’s not the only reason we all haven’t been in relationships, but it’s definitely added to it.

“Since you’re already talking like I’ve evaporated,” I say lightheartedly as I stand, “I need to head out. I have a meeting in a half hour.” I say goodbye to everyone but Farrow.

He has to follow me.

The minute we exit and walk slowly down the hallway, he starts laughing hard. Freeing a sound I bet he’s been caging. Almost infectious.

I feel myself smiling. “Welcome to my life. Apparently you have a front row seat.”

“It’s entertaining as hell, but when are you going to let me behind the wheel?”

“The day I die.”

He rolls his eyes at the word die. And then he gives me a blatant once-over. Head to toe. “You asked your dad and uncles for advice about lube. That’s cute.”

The way he says cute—it sounds sincere. But I still feel the need to defend myself. “I’m close to my family.”

A warm smile appears. “I know. It’s one of my favorite things about you.” We exchange a heady look, my blood heating. He scans the empty hall and then whispers with his growing smile, “You top ‘most of the time’.” He uses air-quotes.

“Is that going to be a problem for you?” I ask.

He rolls his eyes again, like that’s not where he meant for me to travel. Our shoulders brush, bodies drawing closer. We shut up as an influx of Cobalt Inc. employees meander down the hall.

We wait for the elevator in silence. Thankfully when it arrives, it’s empty. We enter, and I press the lobby button. As soon as we start descending, Farrow tells me, “I’m vers.” He likes being a top and bottom.

I look at him.

He raises his brows at me. “I want your cock in my ass.”

I almost harden, but I catch him glancing at the elevator’s security camera. He’s aware of our surroundings. It’s why we don’t collide together.

Though, I risk nearing him. Only a couple feet away.

“What does most of the time mean for you?” he asks bluntly. “I once was with someone who didn’t like any kind of penetration.”

“That’s definitely not me.” I lick my lips, and his gaze falls to my mouth. “I like pretty much everything, but I’ve only bottomed twice.”

His brown eyes flit up to mine, and he chews his gum slowly in thought. “You didn’t like it?”

“Not with them. It’s a trust thing,” I say, just as the elevator dings and slides to a halt.

I don’t mention how I have fantasized about Farrow behind me—his weight bearing against me, but seven out of ten times in the fantasy, I flip him around and top him.

The three other times…his erection is in me.