Prologue Ash

(One year ago.)

" S hots! Slam it down and spin him around," Joshua cheers, tipping his head back and downing the clear liquid inside.

Laughter bubbles out of me, and I clap a hand over my mouth. "What does that even mean?" I whisper to my best friend. Drake and I both turn to look at Joshua. He's standing at the minibar in our hotel room pouring vodka into three shot glasses. Joshua turns up the music on his phone's speaker, throws his arms into the air, and twirls in a circle. He's wearing the same tight crop top and matching white booty shorts he slept in, and the outfit leaves nothing to the imagination.

Drake leans against me as we sit on the sofa near the bay window. He's shirtless, in nothing but his black pajama bottoms. The morning sun shines on his short brown hair, and it's sticking up in this sexy bed-rumpled way.

Damn. Drake is devastatingly handsome, like always.

"Quit gawking, you." Drake boops me in the nose, and at the same time my cheeks heat. "Joshy, how many mojitos have you had?"

"Who cares? I'm celebrating."

Drake presses his warm body against me again, and I sink against him as he wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. "Do you know how many he's had?"

I shrug, eyeing my friend. "Should we be worried about Joshua?" On the outside, he's his usual bubbly self, but something seems a little off. "Maybe it's wedding jitters? Or maybe it's because his whole family will be here soon."

Joshua and I are both Filipino, but his family makes mine look tiny, and that's saying something since I have my mom and dad, three sisters, five aunts, and twelve cousins.

"Or maybe he's worried that the paparazzi will be there? Honestly, I don't think I could handle all the media attention. Our friend is a trooper, that's for damn sure."

Joshua is marrying Dennis Banner, Hollywood's most sought-after bachelor and bad boy. The romance was a whirlwind. One minute, Joshua was telling us how he secretly hooked up with the actor, then he was asking Drake and me to be his groomsmen, and could we help plan his wedding.

Drake reaches over me and his arm brushes against my chest. His familiar scent washes over me. Lemon. Subtle. Sweet and sensual. Something about it reminds me of summer nights by the ocean. I shiver at the unintentional touch and close my eyes. This is definitely not the place to get turned on.

Drake grabs the magazine off the end table and starts flipping through the pages. He lands on the article titled ‘Dennis Banner Proving Fairytales do exist.' As Drake reads the article, I study the photos. I never really cared for Dennis, but looking at these photos causes a little pang of jealousy to zap through my chest. The images are romantic and beautiful.

"I wish someone would look at me like that," Drake sighs.

My mouth drops open, my tipsy mind snagging on his words. I never took my best friend as a secret romantic. He's always been the quick hookup kinda guy, never wanting to settle down. Drake flips the page and continues reading. Meanwhile, I press myself even closer to his warmth. We've always been the touchy-feely type of friends who thrive on platonic cuddles… or at least platonic on his side. Me? Not so much.

Joshua hands each of us a shot, and I scrunch my nose. I've only had the two mojitos, but I swear I can already feel the effects. As soon as our drinks are in hand, Joshua's phone starts buzzing. Instead of paying attention to his groomsmen, his fingers start flying across his phone screen as he wanders toward the bathroom.

Drake places a hand over my shot before I can bring it to my lips. "Want me to toss it before he gets back?"

Beaming at Drake, I nod, a warmth filling my chest. Drake knows how much of a lightweight I am, and how I don't really like to drink. Joshua knows too, but I think with all the wedding jitters and nerves, he isn't paying attention. Leave it to Drake to always be taking care of me. I'd never tell him, but Drake totally has sexy Daddy vibes. Something that makes my crush on my bestie almost impossible to ignore.

Drake downs his shot before standing and plucking my glass from my grip, replacing it with his empty shot glass. "Just in case he wants proof that we are being supportive groomsmen." He winks.

"You know he'd never actually force us to drink anything, right?"

Drake nods, leaning his toned body against the counter. "I know. But something's going on. It's not like him to drink so early, and I'm not entirely sure it's just wedding day jitters. It's almost as if Joshua is getting cold feet."

My eyes widen. "You don't think he'll cancel the wedding, do you?"

"Fuck, I hope not." Drake walks over to the minibar sink, where he's about to toss the liquid down the drain when his eyes pop wide. "Holy shit." He picks up the bottle of vodka and reads the label. "This shit is fucking expensive."

Drake holds up the bottle to me as I walk over to him. Eyeing the label, I pull out my phone and look up the brand. "Oh! This bottle is worth four thousand dollars!"

He takes a tentative sip from my glass. "Yeah, it's pretty damn good, but I don't know if any bottle is worth even a quarter of that price."

Guilt swirls in my stomach. "Maybe I should just drink it?"

"Nah. I got you, little one." He drinks the small amount of alcohol for me.

Little one. Butterflies take off in my stomach, pushing away all the guilt and replacing it with a giddy feeling I try to shove back down. Still, I'm tipsy, and those damn intoxicating words make me wonder what it would be like if Drake were my Daddy. What if I confessed my deepest secret? Would he still look at me the same, or would he run?

I laugh as another stray thought enters my mind. "Do you realize you just drank one hundred and twenty-one dollars' worth of vodka? Well, technically, two hundred and forty-two dollars' worth, if you include both shots. Who knows how much the mojitos cost?"

"Ah, fuck," Drake replies. "Please tell me you didn't actually calculate the exact costs of the liquid sloshing around in my stomach."

"Well, it isn't exact." I bite my lip. "But I mean, it's pretty simple math. If the bottle actually costs four thousand dollars, assuming there isn't any tax, all you need to do is divide that by the number of ounces in the bottle by the amount of liquid in a shot glass. I just rounded up to one and a half ounces per shot. You had two shots, so that's three ounces—" I trail off as I realize I started rambling.

"Nerd." Drake chuckles. It's low and husky, and finer than any bottle of vodka. "But you know I'd drink anything for you, Ash."

I swallow hard. His tone is joking and light, but there's something intense about his gaze. I'm lost in his chocolate brown eyes and the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows.

A knock at the hotel door startles me back to reality. Drake strides forward before peering through the peephole. "It's Jamie." He lets the wedding photographer inside, and we each greet him with a hug.

Joshua walks out of the bathroom as he pockets his phone. "Hey, Jamie. Thanks for showing up early. I wanted you to take photos of me and my two besties getting ready for the wedding if you don't mind."

"Of course." Jamie pulls his expensive camera out of its bag.

As we get ready, Joshua gives us a few more shots of vodka to celebrate, and I don't have the heart to say no. Instead, I raise my shot glass up in cheers, hoping that our friend has found true love. All the while we laugh and dance while Jamie snaps photos.

When Joshua reaches for the mostly empty bottle again, Drake puts his foot down.

"Ash, unless your goal is to get trashed, we should slow down."

"I'm fine, Daddy," I giggle. "I'm just a little tipsy, like you." I hold my hand out and pinch my index finger and thumb together, just to show him how little.

He gives me a dull look.

"But I won't have any more. Promise." I toss him a mock salute, feeling playful.

"Good boy," Drake jokes, but my mind goes fuzzy and my lips part with shock. He has no idea how hot I find those specific words. Or how many times I've dreamt of my best friend saying that exact phrase to me.

Wait. Did I just call him Daddy?

"How do I look?" Drake asks, as he steps out of the bathroom of our hotel room. I knew the fitted black suit would make him look like a GQ model, but I had no idea the red wine trim and silk dress shirt would make him even sexier.

My eyes give him an appreciative once over and he does the same.

"Wow. Ash, you look…" his voice trails off, and he clears his throat. "Well? What do you think?" Drake gives me a slow spin.

I swallow hard. So fucking gorgeous.

His eyes darken, and his heated gaze is like a caress on my skin.

Drake stalks forward, stepping close to me before he whispers in my ear. "Damn, Ash. Do you know you said that out loud? And if you keep staring at me like that, I'm going to—"

I lean closer. Going to what?

Like two magnets unable to fight the pull, we slowly close the distance between us.

Suddenly, Jamie is there snapping photos, the click of the shutter startling me back to reality. Drake and I yank apart, my surroundings popping back into existence. I practically run to the other side of the hotel room just as Joshua's phone starts vibrating.

"I gotta take this, babes. Be right back," Joshua says in a chipper tone, waving his phone in his hands. At least he seems less stressed.

Drake chats with Jamie while I fidget around with items from my suitcase and replay the last several minutes back in my mind. Did I really almost kiss Drake? Oh shit. What if I was reading into things and he wasn't even trying to kiss me? I glance over at him. He throws his head back and laughs at something Jamie says. Jamie is beautiful and graceful. Meanwhile, I'm just… me. Awkward and skinny. The need to run and hide is strong. I want to curl up with my blanket, pull my favorite stuffy out of its hiding spot in my room, cuddle up with Nelly, and go to sleep.

Before I can truly spiral into my own thoughts, Jamie excuses himself and checks his phone with a smile on his face.

Drake strides forward, grasps my hand in his, and tugs me into the bathroom. He kicks the door behind him, not hard enough to slam closed but enough to give us a little privacy with it slightly cracked.

"Drake, what are you—" I don't get to finish my sentence before Drake's lips are on mine. He presses me against the wall and my fingers tangle in his suit jacket, trying to pull him closer.

We both moan as his mouth claims me, his tongue sliding between my lips and caressing mine. Just the feel of him touching me like this calms my mind and the chaotic thoughts that were just warring in my head. He really was trying to kiss me. Holy shit. He is kissing me.

"More," I moan into his mouth. "More, please."

Drake pulls back a little, suddenly looking a little more sober than my intoxicated state.

"We can't," Drake pants.

I deflate at his words.

He cups my cheek and looks me in the eye. "No, baby. I just mean that the wedding is going to start soon, and you've had quite a bit to drink. I want to take care of you, then make sure this is really what you want."

I pout, half tempted to stomp my foot. "It is what I want. You're what I want. You have no idea," I confess.

Drake's brown gaze darkens. "If that's true…"

"It is."

"Then tonight, you're mine."

Oh wow. Is this real? This has to be a dream, or maybe we both had too much to drink. Because there's no way Drake would be saying all of this while staring at me with such hungry eyes.

"Ash?" A smile curls at the corner of his mouth. Oh fuck. Definitely a dream.

"Yes, please," I whisper, and before I can second guess anything, I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips back to his.

No more negative thoughts. No more wondering what would happen if Drake discovers I'm a little. If I only have one magical night with him, then I'm going to start now. We can go back to being Ash and Drake tomorrow.

Drake starts to pull away from me, but I suck on his bottom lip, pulling it between my lips. At the same time, I reach for his bulge. My eyes widen when I feel just how big he is. His cock is significantly thicker than mine, and it only turns me on more. I rub at his hard length, and he gasps against my lips. We continue kissing until I hear something near the door.

From the reflection in the mirror, I can see Jamie's shocked eyes. He turns quickly before bolting from the room. Drake pauses when the hotel door clicks closed behind Jamie.

"Who was that?" He peers through the crack of the bathroom door before shutting it and locking the latch on the doorknob.

My heart pounds. He probably closed the door for privacy, but my dick translates it as go time.

"Jamie. Don't worry, he left," I reply, trailing my fingers down his chest until I trace his hard cock through his pants. "We're all alone. What should we do?"

I have no idea what is making me so damn brave. I don't act like this. Ever. I'm always shy. Never bold and never teasing. I'm not sure if it's the alcohol, but if I had to guess, I think it's Drake. He always makes me feel so safe.

He must be just as surprised as me, but the shock doesn't last long. His long fingers curl around each side of my hips and he lifts me, placing me on the bathroom counter in a move so fast I nearly come at his display of strength. He spreads my legs wide and nestles between them before kissing me again.

And I'm lost.

Lost in his touch. Lost in the feel of my legs wrapped around his waist. Lost in his kiss, and in the feel of his hot skin as his fingers dig into my hips.

My hands wander up to his hair, and I tug. He groans, desperately.

"Ash, baby. I wanna make you feel good." He trails light kisses over my neck.

I nod. Yes. I want that.

"Will you let me take care of you, baby?"

I shiver and squirm on the counter. That endearment again. I always thought it was cheesy whenever I heard one guy call another baby, but I also secretly love it.

A shrill beeping noise pierces the air. "Crap," Drake says, checking his phone. "We'll continue this later." He presses a kiss to my lips. "We gotta get Joshua back in the room. He's getting married in twenty minutes.

As Drake rushes from the room, looking for Joshua, I suddenly feel vulnerable, cold, and naked. I take a few deep breaths, praying my erection will go away. What just happened? I replay the last few minutes in my mind, but I can't recall who made the first move. It had to have been me, right? I'm the one who has a major crush on his best friend.

Tears prickle my eyes. Did I just ruin a fifteen-year friendship because of my dumb feelings? A few stray tears slide down my cheeks, and I jump off the counter. Where the hell is Drake, and how long has he been gone?

"Drake?" I call out, but I don't hear anything. "Drake, are you out there?" I glance down at my pants and it's still obvious I'm sporting a boner. How embarrassing. My hand jerks up, and I try to fight the urge to suck on my thumb. My oral fixation urges are always strongest when I'm stressed or scared.

It isn't until I feel the first few pulls of my mouth that I realize I lost my internal battle. The hotel door clicks closed.

"Ash, you in here, man?"

Man. Not little one or baby. I yank my hand away from my face just in time. My cheeks heat as Drake gives me a confused look. There's no way Drake can discover my little side. Unfortunately, I don't have a time machine to erase the last hour or so, no matter how magical it was.

"Ash, are you okay? You look pale. Do you think you drank too much?" He steps forward and places his hand on the small of my back.

Like an epiphany, it hits me. "Yes, I think I drank too much." So much, in fact, that come tomorrow, I probably won't remember anything. Alcohol might have gotten me in this position, but it won't be the reason I lose my best friend.