Page 48 of The Proximity Effect

“Not a chance.” Archer’s voice carried the unmistakable sound of a smile. “Though I have to admit, I learned more about duck anatomy than I ever wanted to know.”

“Hey, that’s valuable information.” I crossed my arms, feigning indignation as the warmth of the banter wrapped around me like a cozy blanket. “You never know when you might need to know about?—”

“Appetizers!” Evan cut in cheerfully, his grin widening as plates appeared in front of us like a culinary rescue mission. “Look at all this food that we’re going to talk about instead of duck genitalia!”

I burst out laughing, unable to hold it in, and soon they joined me—even Archer. The tension that had been hovering over us since the car ride seemed to dissipate. Maybe this wouldn’t be so awkward after all. Though I really needed to work on my filter when I got nervous. Or invent a shock collar that activated whenever I started spouting randomness.

The appetizers disappeared faster than donuts in a breakroom. As our entrées arrived featuring a seafood linguine that had me mentally taking notes, Evan leaned forward, his expression bright with curiosity.

“So, Tessa, tell us about your family. Are they all as... verbally adventurous as you?”

I nearly choked on my second pink drink. “God, no. My mom would die if she heard half the things that come out of my mouth. She’s more of a ‘ladies don’t discuss duck anatomy at dinner’ type.” I cringed, realizing I’d brought up ducks again.

“And you said you live with them, right?” Liam’s tone held no judgment.

“Temporarily. Very temporarily. Just until I figure out my life. Or until my sister’s baby arrives, and Mom transfers all her attention to becoming the world’s most intensive grandmother. Whichever comes first.”

“Is she your only sibling?” Archer asked.

“Yeah, Emma. She’s twenty-seven, married to an accountant named Steve—which is the most accountant name ever—and currently growing what she swears is a future soccer player based on the kicks.” I smiled, thinking of her latest ultrasound photo. “She’s the good daughter who did everything in order:college, marriage, baby. Meanwhile, I’m the thirty-year-old disaster living in my childhood bedroom.”

“Hey, some of us like disasters.” Evan winked, then his expression shifted slightly. “Though I get the family expectations thing. My parents had my whole life mapped out: school, marry someone they approved of, and take over my dad’s real estate firm. When I started my marketing company instead, they...” He took a long sip of his martini. “Let’s just say Christmas cards aren’t exactly flowing between us.”

“Their loss.” Liam reached over to squeeze Evan’s shoulder.

“What about you, Archer?” I was genuinely curious about the man who seemed to wear his suit like armor. “Did your family expect you to become a lawyer?”

Something flickered across his face. “My mom worked three jobs to put me through school. When I got a scholarship to law school, it was like winning the lottery. She cried for an hour.” He straightened his tie, a gesture I was starting to recognize as one of discomfort. “She passed away my second year. Heart attack.”

“I’m so sorry.” I reached for his hand, and he let me take it.

“What about you, Liam?” Evan jumped in, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “How are your moms?”

Liam grinned. “Still trying to set me up with their dental hygienist’s daughter. They’re convinced she’s perfect for me because she, and I quote, ‘also likes snow.’”

We all laughed, and something settled in my chest. Here we were, four people with completely different backgrounds, sharing stories over expensive food on a yacht. It was ridiculous and complicated and probably ill-advised, but somehow it felt... right.

Though I really needed to stop thinking about how right it felt, or I was going to need a third pink drink. What was I thinking? I wasn’t the casual dating and sex type, and now I was tangled up with not one but three men.

The conversation flowed smoothly between us as dinner progressed, making the situation even worse. I knew I needed to emotionally disconnect but found myself already invested in these three men. I just didn’t know where their heads were with the situation.

As I pushed the remains of my chocolate soufflé around my plate, I tried to gather my courage along with the last bits of dessert. The yacht’s gentle rocking and the lights twinkling across the dark water created an almost dreamlike atmosphere, but reality was knocking insistently at the door of my brain like an unwanted guest who’d spotted me through the window and wouldn’t go away.

“So...” I immediately shoved a spoonful of chocolate in my mouth because apparently, I’d rather choke than have this conversation. But it needed to happen. “What exactly is... this?” I gestured vaguely between all of us with my spoon, feeling ridiculously like a conductor leading the world’s most confusing orchestra.

Liam reached under the table and squeezed my knee. His touch was soft but grounding. “This is whatever you want it to be.”

Archer put his spoon down with a soft clink. “I think we need to be clear about what we all want. There are implications to consider. Professional boundaries.”

Evan groaned and threw his head back in exaggerated exasperation, nearly knocking over his drink with his dramatic gesture. “Oh my God, Arch, take the lawyer hat off for five minutes.” He turned to me with a smile that could probably charm birds out of trees and onto his shoulders. “You’re in charge here, Tess. We’re just along for the ride.”

“That’s... sweet? I think? But also kind of concerning because you guys can barely agree on what color to repaint the lobby, andnow you’re all suddenly fine with...” My hand cut through the air in a vague wave. “Whatever this is?”

Evan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “The lobby should be sage green.”

“It absolutely should not.” Archer’s response was automatic, like a reflex he couldn’t control, the way I instinctively flinched when people ordered their steaks well done.

My frustration bubbled to the surface like an overheated pot. “See? This is what I’m talking about. If I’m going to... continue... with any of you, I can’t be caught in the middle of your college spat and the three-way custody battle over a hotel.”

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