Scandalous Park Avenue Prince (Park Avenue Princes Book 3)
Scandalous Park Avenue Prince: Chapter 9

TO SAY I was in a daze would be an understatement. The fact that I was even referring to Archer now as…well, Archer, and not Mr. Carrington, was a mind trip in and of itself, and so was the way I’d shown up on his doorstep in the first place. I was starting to fill in some of the blanks from last night, but even those details didn’t matter much. Not when I remembered the way Archer had ordered me to come, that he’d watched me with the same hunger I felt for him. The same thing he’d shown this morning when he asked me to say his name. When he’d basically admitted he wanted to fuck me but that he shouldn’t want to.

When he said he’d think about it…

I didn’t bother hiding my smile, since Archer was already off to work, and I was currently sitting alone on the stoop of his brownstone waiting for the taxi I’d requested. There’d been no point calling the driver I shared with the guys, Scotty, since he would be taking everyone to Astor right about now. There was no way I wanted any of them getting wind of where I was and what I’d been doing. They probably all figured I was still sleeping off my hangover, and that was exactly what I wanted them to assume.

I stood up, brushing off the back of my pants as the taxi made its way down the street. My breaths came out in warm puffs of air, and even though I’d put my sweater on over my long-sleeved shirt, it was still freezing.

“Waldorf Towers, East Fiftieth and Park,” I said once I’d slid into the back seat.

As the row of picturesque brownstones began to fly by, I thought back to those texts from last night, the way they’d set me off and had me doing things I’d never normally do.

What the hell had I been thinking? I hadn’t been, at least not clearly. As much as I wanted to blame East for indulging me, it was my fault, and honestly, probably a good thing. I wasn’t sure I would’ve had the guts to put it all out there for Archer if I hadn’t had way too much liquid courage running through my veins.

Although by “putting it out there,” I hadn’t meant my dick.

I couldn’t help the smile that wanted to break free, because holy shit. Now that the gaps in my night were filling in, I couldn’t believe how fucking ballsy I’d been. I’d gotten myself off in front of Archer to show him how much I wanted him… Who did that? Not me. Only Preston-on-psychotic-shots me.

Anyone else would’ve called the cops on my ass, but Archer did something entirely unexpected—he got involved. Issued me a challenge. And then let me come all over his hand. God, I wished I could remember it in more vivid detail. Wished that my head hadn’t been pounding so bad this morning, so I could’ve had a redo.

But…there would be a next time, right? Archer had been giving all kinds of mixed messages this morning. Even after trying to push me away last night with his texts, he didn’t seem all that intent on following through—giving me all the reasons why we couldn’t and shouldn’t try anything, but then telling me he’d let me check his body for the tattoo I thought I remembered him having…

He wasn’t saying no to me. Not at all.

But he was right. That did make things complicated. Especially when Serena’s face popped into my mind. I didn’t keep shit from her, and this was the kind of thing that could break a friendship.

I couldn’t lose her. She was my best friend.

She’d understand.

Right?

I needed to talk to her. I needed to come clean about the charity event, telling her dad to ask her about us, last night, and everything I was feeling… But she’d be heading to class⁠—

No, wait. It was Tuesday. She’d be at her internship this morning in the Fashion District.

“Actually, change of plans,” I said to the driver. “I need to go to Thirty-Eighth and Seventh.”

His annoyed gaze met mine in the rearview mirror. “You sure about that?”

Was I? I’d be potentially fucking things up, but she deserved to know. We’d promised each other that much.

“Final answer,” I told the driver, and he nodded once before pulling into the turn lane that was backed up beyond belief.

Not wanting to sit there for an hour, I said, “It might be quicker to take Eleventh down to⁠—”

“You wanna drive?”

I snapped my mouth shut, annoyed that he was obviously taking the long route, but that was the difference between having a driver who got paid by the minute and one who was paid handsomely to get us to our destination in the quickest way possible.

With a sigh, I laid my head back and closed my eyes, settling in for the drive. At least I’d have time to try to remember if I’d really seen a tattoo on Archer’s shirtless body last night or if I’d made it up. And if I hadn’t, what had it looked like…?

I must’ve dozed off, because my phone buzzing in my pocket jerked me awake. It was a text from Donovan, asking where I was.

Oh, right. I hadn’t even thought about the fact that I’d never skipped school before, so my absence would definitely sound a few alarms with my friends. I needed to play up my whereabouts so they didn’t ask too many questions or come looking for me.

Did you miss East trying to kill me last night?

DONOVAN:

I don’t think anyone in the club missed that. Feeling like shit?

Let’s just say I won’t be leaving the bed today.

DONOVAN:

Order up Carol’s special from downstairs.

I wrinkled my nose, wondering what in the hell kind of healthy concoction Donovan was recommending, because the guy liked to keep in shape a little too much for the rest of us.

Does it have grass in it?

DONOVAN:

Just trust me. It’ll help.

The last time I trusted you, I threw up kale and ginger. Do you know how bad ginger burns coming back up?

DONOVAN:

Fine. West says order the grease platter, then. Feel better.

The taxi jerked to a sudden stop, and I almost hit the seat in front of me. The total for the ride flashed on the screen, and I swiped my credit card, ready to get out of the car already. I hadn’t eaten in a while, and I needed something to soak up the churning in my stomach, but it would have to wait. I needed to talk to Serena first.

I headed into the building where the designer she was interning for had their showroom and took the elevator up, and when my stomach did a backflip midway through the ascent, I promised myself I’d never drink again.

This wasn’t the first time I’d been here—I’d met up with Serena several times for lunch or to pick her up after school. But never had I skipped a class to be here, and never had I shown up to tell her what I was about to.

As the doors opened on her floor, I stepped out and took in a deep breath, thankful I’d managed to keep my roiling stomach under some sort of control. God, it had gotten worse and worse since leaving Archer’s house, and as I wiped my sweaty palms on my pant leg, I realized why—guilt.

I was sick to my stomach not because of East’s poisonous concoctions but because I’d been lying to my best friend. Well, that was going to stop right fucking now. It was time to lay this all out on the table before things went any further.

The showroom was a bustling hive of activity when I stepped inside—designers, models, and assistants in different stages of measuring, fitting, and dressing for whatever upcoming project or show they were working on.

I scanned the controlled chaos, searching out a high blonde ponytail swaying around dainty shoulders several feet from me, as Serena stood back from the gorgeous model standing on a pedestal.

I swallowed around the lump that had formed in my throat, and reminded myself that the sooner I did this, the sooner it would done.

Man, what I wouldn’t do for a “Van Talk” right about now. Out of all my friends, Donovan was the absolute best when it came to handing out relationship advice, and I knew he’d have some fantastic ideas on how to deal with this.

Only problems were: a) he thought I was straight and b) I wasn’t actually in a relationship with Serena. Well, not the kind he thought, anyway. Also, how did one tell their friend that they were in a bind because they wanted to fuck their fake girlfriend’s dad?

Maybe Archer was right. This was going to be complicated.

“Can you turn a little to the left for me?” Serena studied the lines of the garment she was pinning with painstaking detail as I walked up behind her and whispered by her ear, “Hello.”

She whirled around, her bright, sunny smile lighting up her features when her eyes landed on me. But the smile somewhat faded as she got a really good look at me—my disheveled state was unusual, to say the least.

“Hello yourself.” She chuckled and leaned in to kiss my cheek. “You skipped school? Must’ve been a big night?”

Only the biggest of my life. “Uh, yeah, you could say that. Do you have a minute?”

Serena’s eyes narrowed a fraction as they searched my face. “Sure.” She held up a hand for me to give her a second and walked back over to her model. “Can you give me five?”

“No problem.” He stepped down from the pedestal and nodded in my direction. The second we were alone, I grabbed Serena’s arm and led her to one of the empty corner offices that overlooked the city.

“Preston, what has gotten into⁠—”

“I kissed your dad.” I hadn’t meant to blurt it out, or even start the conversation that way. But my brain was still clearly trying to recover and function again after everything it had been through in the last twelve hours.

A mix of wide-eyed surprise and disbelieving amusement had her chuckling. “What?”

“At the charity event last month,” I said, running my fingers through my hair and starting to pace. “You wanted me to go check on him after his ex tried to make a scene, so I did, and I kissed him.”

Serena only blinked at me for a long moment as I continued to wear out the floor, and then she snorted. “Yeah, okay, suuure.”

“I’m serious.”

“Seriously pranking my ass. Did Travis put you up to this? He did, didn’t he?”

“Funny about that,” I said, scratching at my jaw. “He walked in on us when it happened.”

A burst of laughter had me whirling around. “Oh, Preston.” She shook her head and patted me on the chest. “Tell Travis he’ll have to do better than that. I need to get back to work, and you should probably go home and change. Is that the same outfit you wore to dinner?” She started for the door.

“Yes, because I slept at your dad’s house last night.”

Wow, way to put all that out there.

Her feet faltered and she slowly turned to face me. Maybe it was my expression, maybe it was that she was finally hearing me, but her brows pulled together as she said, “You’re not joking?”

Fuck, please don’t let her hate me.

“No. I’m not joking. And I can explain.”

Her eyes widened to saucers. “Chair.” I quickly dragged a nearby chair over just in time for her to fall into it, and then dropped to my knee in front of her.

“Do you need a paper bag?”

“Uh, not yet. Unless you’re about to give me details I don’t want to know, and then I might have to vomit.”

I’d meant to breathe into, but no, she seemed to be breathing well enough.

“Just…rewind. You kissed my dad?” she said, shaking her head. “Preston… What the hell? Why?”

Why? Because he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen in my life, and I couldn’t not kiss him when the opportunity arose.

“It just happened⁠—”

“At the charity event?”

“Yes—”

“Last month?”

When I nodded, she smacked the shit out of my arm.

“You kept this to yourself and didn’t tell me for a month?”

“I know, that was a fucked thing to do, but I didn’t want to lose you, and I didn’t think it’d ever happen again. I thought it was just all the champagne and whatever he was drinking and just…”

“Preston,” she admonished me, before sighing.

“I know. Feel free to yell at me. Throw something. Throw me out the window.”

“They don’t open. But I might actually need that paper bag after all, because ew. You couldn’t choose someone else’s dad?” She dropped her hand back into her lap. “I mean, you’ve joked about thinking he was hot, but I didn’t think you were serious.”

I didn’t even bother trying to deny it. “Where do you think you get your good looks from? Yeah, he’s hot.”

“And he…” She swallowed hard, her face starting to contort. “He kissed you back?”

Kissed me, felt me up…let me come over his hand last night…

“Yeah, he did, but then he acted like it never happened, so I didn’t know if he even remembered it. But then I went to his office to help with the Winter Ball stuff, and there was all this tension and I wanted it to happen again.”

Serena was just staring, hanging on every word like she wanted to know but didn’t. “And did it happen again?”

I shook my head. “No, he kept turning me down. Can you believe it?”

“Can I believe you are the one pursuing my dad? Not in a million freakin’ years. Who are you? And what the hell happened last night?”

Oh God, like I wanted to admit the whole embarrassing ordeal to anyone, much less Serena. I’d leave out the dirty details, but I supposed she deserved to know what her fake boyfriend had been getting up to when she wasn’t around.

“Okay, I’ll preface this by saying I’m not proud of my behavior, but he might’ve texted me that I was a mistake and the kiss was a mistake, and I might’ve let East get me a little drunk⁠—”

“You let East give you drinks?”

“Shots.”

“Oh my God.” She dropped her face into her hands, and her voice was muffled as she said, “Go on.”

“So I was drunk and a little pissed about the texts, and I might’ve shown up on Archer’s⁠—”

“Archer’s?”

Shit. “—your dad’s doorstep and basically forced my way inside, and…” I didn’t need to go further than that. “I mean, we didn’t do anything…” Not like I didn’t try. “But I want to, and that’s the problem, and that’s why I’m here.”

It was dead silent for way too long, so long I thought maybe she’d fallen asleep in her hands. But then she lifted her head, propping her chin on her fists.

“You like him.”

I hesitated, then nodded.

“And you think he likes you?”

I nodded again.

She looked past me, thinking that over.

“So basically, you seduced my dad.”

“Um. Yeah.”

“Twice, Preston.” She held her fingers up just in case I didn’t hear, but I was pretty sure the entire showroom heard that.

“I know. I didn’t plan it, but when I got there and saw him, it just kind of…happened. You know how it is.”

“I know how it is?” She cocked her head to the side. “Yeah, I’m not sure that’s a great argument. You see, I’m not trying to sleep with your father.”

“Ew.”

“Exactly.” She let out a sigh, and when she got to her feet, I followed. “You get how embarrassing this is, right? You kissed my dad when he thought we were a couple. So when I was pouring my heart out to him the other night, thinking I was telling him some kind of big secret about you and me, he already knew. That’s kind of humiliating.”

“No.” I shook my head vehemently. “He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything. He thought I was insane at the charity event—that’s why he kept insisting it was a mistake. Well, until I insinuated you and me were, um, something else entirely.”

“I see.”

Silence stretched between us then, and the longer we stood there the louder it grew, until I could barely stand the own noise in my head.

“Please don’t hate me.” Again with the word vomiting. It was like I’d woken up this morning and someone else took control of my brain.

“I don’t hate you.” She reached for the hands I didn’t even realize I was twisting in front of me. “I could never hate you. I’m just… This is just… It’s a lot. I’m processing. Give me a minute.”

I walked over to the window and stared out at the city, wondering what Archer was doing in that moment and how he’d feel if he knew I was here telling Serena everything that had happened between us.

“So, um, you and my dad…” I turned to see Serena’s cute nose scrunched up like she was still trying to make sense of this. But news flash, I was still trying to, and I’d felt this way for weeks now. “That’s kinda crazy, Preston. I mean, if anyone replaces out, that shit is going to blow up.”

“I don’t plan on anyone else replaceing out. I’m good at keeping my private life private. But I needed you to know. I hate lying to you.”

“Well, I appreciate that.” She flashed a rueful grin. “Even if I feel like I need an emergency session with my therapist.”

I snorted and then grabbed her hand, tugging her into my side. “I really am sorry for lying.”

“Uh huh. But not sorry for kissing my dad.”

“Well…maybe not that part.”

She bumped into my side as we headed for the door, but just as we were about to step through, she stopped and looked up at me.

“Wait, does that mean you want to end our arrangement? I know I asked you the other day if you wanted to date⁠—”

“No. No. I don’t want that to change. I don’t even know if anything else is going to happen. I just wanted you to know, just in case…”

“So this is just asking permission to bone my dad?” She waved her hand. “Gross, but whatever. Go forth. Just please, for the love of God, don’t tell me any-fucking-thing.”