Work was even harder to focus on once I'd declared my feelings for the girl I'd been obsessing over for nearly a decade. I hadn't intended to blurt all of that out at the pool. I'd intended to tell her everything, sure, but not an hour after we stepped onto the yacht and certainly not so abruptly. But she had asked and I had found myself unable to hide from her the full truth for even a moment more once she had.

I had it bad for this girl. I had since we met at that ridiculous Halloween party freshman year and bonded over our mutual hatred of the ritualistic holiday. I'd fallen for her hard the moment I saw her but she wasted no time in putting me into the friend box and I was happy enough to be there since I was still technically with my girlfriend back in Argentina. But by the time Sofia broke up with me, it was already too late with Piper. We were best friends and I was firmly friendzoned. Telling her about my feelings only felt like a surefire way to lose her so I kept it quiet and simply enjoyed the years of friendship and growing closer to her.

That is, until we got married.

The distance between us after that wasn't entirely her fault. Sure, she jetted off to NYC to follow her dreams of becoming a writer. I wouldn't have stopped her for anything in the world. But I pushed her away too. Ashamed of my feelings, of my selfishness in allowing her to sacrifice her future like that by tying herself to me through the bond of matrimony. I pulled away from her out of guilt, lost myself in building my company, and told myself I was too busy to return her calls. Soon enough, she stopped calling. I thought that was what I'd wanted but my heart shattered every time I looked at my phone and no longer saw her name.

That call from Agent Janine Ashley should have been terrifying but it felt like a second chance. And the moment she'd sat down at that table with me, looking as beautiful and radiant as she always had, I knew I wouldn't squander it this time. I wouldn't allow myself to re-enter the friend zone without telling her how I felt. I owed it to myself and I owed it to her.

And now I'd done it.

But I wasn't even sure how I felt about it. I was on edge, fidgety. My nerves were frayed and I felt wired, knowing she was somewhere on this ship, somewhere close by, thinking about everything I'd told her, considering her options, considering me. But as crazy as it was making me, I knew there was nothing more that I could do. I knew I'd done what I'd promised myself I would. I'd confessed how I felt. Now, the ball was in her court. She would decide where we went from here and, though that was terrifying, I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Regardless, I couldn't focus on work. I'd been staring at the same email from Valencia for the last half hour. The detailing of the budget, the allocations to each department, each team, each project. I'd gone over it four times now but hadn't retained a single number. Finally, I decided to give up, leaning back in my chair with a sigh.

That's when I heard it. A faint, tiny knock on my cabin door. My heart leapt into my throat. There was only one person that could me.

"Come in, Piper," I called out.

She pushed the door open, softly, her wide eyes finding me where I sat at my desk. I'd thrown the shirt on that I'd left on the deck before but my hair was still a drying, tousled mess. I ran my fingers through it and watched her stare at the action.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, unsure of how to broach the subject again. She nodded, her eyes remaining firmly on my face. She was still wearing that incredible little bikini and I fought every urge to stare at her body, despite the fact that she still had it on full display.

"Thank you," she said then, her voice barely above a whisper. "For being honest with me. I'd been wondering where things stood between us and I... I appreciate your honesty. I'd like to be honest with you too."

I nodded, taking a breath and sitting up straighter in my chair, steeling myself for whatever was to come. But Piper hesitated, opening her mouth and closing it again.

"Are you hungry?" She asked suddenly and I raised a brow. "I can make us something for dinner. Maybe we can talk while we eat?"

"Sure," I answered with a nod.

"Just let me... let me change, okay?" She said, looking down at the bikini and I nodded again in agreement. Then she vanished from my doorway, leaving me staring after her, even more perplexed than before.

She'd wanted to say something when she came here, I could tell. Maybe she'd even wanted to do something. But she'd lost her nerve at the sight of me. I wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. All I could do was go to dinner and find out.

I changed out of my swim trunks since she was changing out of her bikini. I opted for a pair of jeans and a simple black henley shirt instead. When I emerged from my cabin, I followed the sounds of pots and pans until I found her in the larger of the two kitchens, standing on her tiptoes to reach a sauce pan up top. I crossed the room in a few strides and reached up, grabbing the handle and lowering it for her. Our chests were mere inches apart as she took the pan, her cheeks turning crimson, and turned away from me to return to her cooking.

"I didn't know you could cook," I told her, trying my best to make casual conversation despite the thick cloud of tension hanging over us. "All I remember from college is cup o' noodle and ordering pizza."

She snorted and grinned.

"That's all I had access to in a dorm room," she replied, bending over to fetch an ingredient in the pantry and giving me an amazing and presumably unintentional view of her ass in the tiny yellow sundress she was wearing. I could just barely see the beginnings of a dark green lace thong before she stood back up and trounced away. I plopped into a barstool at the counter, readjusting myself so that my current predicament wasn't so obvious, and waited for her to continue. "My mom taught me to cook though, you know."

"Sure."

"You don't believe me?"

"I've just never seen any proof of this supposed cooking ability."

"Well, you're about to."

She grinned and whirled back around to continue what she was doing. I simply watched her. I'd never watched someone cook before. I'd never had any desire to. But as I watched her hum as she squeezed a lemon, dance a little as she grated the cheese, and suck the sauce off of her finger with a surprisingly erotic moan, I realized I could watch Piper Clark cook forever and not ever get tired of it.

She concocted some sort of wine wine sauce pasta complete with citrus and chicken and vegetables. She plated it up and sat it in front of me at the bar.

"No," I said, lifting my plate and hers and walking toward the dining table on the other side of the room. She grabbed two forks and followed after me, calling after me to ask what I was doing along the way. "A dinner this nice deserves to be eaten at a real table."

She smiled and sank into the chair that I pulled out for her before I crossed the table to set my own plate down.

"Wine?" I asked, gesturing at the bar behind us.

"Please," she answered with a smile and I went to the bar to pour two glasses of a delicate white wine that I thought would go with her meal. Then I brought her the glass and sat across from her with my own. We tapped them together in a mock toast and sipped. I dug into the pasta as soon as I could, amazed by the flavors as they melted on my tongue.

"Mmm," I moaned out and Piper's attention snapped to me at once. "This is incredible."

She grinned proudly.

"My mother's famous scampi," she explained. "One of the first things she taught me to make."

I smiled.

"Have you seen her?" I asked.

"Not yet," she told me. "I was hoping to visit her while I was here."

She hesitated, her fork slowing as she twirled it in the pasta. I stopped chewing and looked up at her. It was the first mention either one of us had made about the fact that she was only here temporarily, that she could be leaving at any moment, and it clearly added some discomfort to the room. After a moment of awkward silence, she sighed and set her fork down completely. I did the same.

"Okay so let's do this then," she said and I raised a brow. "Talk about it."

I nodded, sitting back in my seat and waiting for her to continue.

"Obviously, I'm attracted to you," she began and I couldn't help but smile as I watched her. She was speaking to me as if this were a business negotiation and she wasn't willing to budge on her terms but she was blushing the whole time and refused to meet my gaze. "I don't exactly... know how to do this. I just want you to know that, although we haven't been active participants in it for a few years now, our friendship still means a lot to me and I don't want to lose that."

I nodded, understanding.

"But I am open to... seeing where this goes, between us, finding out if it can be something real, like you said."

It was as if I'd had a weight sitting on my chest and I could finally breathe again. I smiled at her across from me as her eyes flicked up, finally, to meet mine.

"Obviously, this isn't going to be your average dating arrangement," she told me, taking a shaky breath as she continued. "I mean, we're already married and living together, even sleeping in the same room. And I know that we have to keep up appearances for everyone around us but... it would be good if you could communicate to me what's fake and what's real."

None of it had ever been fake to me but it didn't feel like the time to tell her that. I was too worried I might scare her off, too over the moon that she was willing to give me a real shot. I wanted nothing more than to slide this delicious pasta right onto the floor, pull her onto this table, and show her just how real my feelings were. Which reminded me that there was one other bit of discussion that needed to be had.

"So," I started, carefully. "The No Sex rule?"

She bit her lip, blushing furiously as she answered.

"I think that one... we can table. For now."