Tears spill from my eyes because I can picture everything she described, and as much as I would have loved to be there, I also know that Asher gave Maggie exactly what she needed.

“What did you say?” Liz asks.

Maggie looks at Asher. “I said, ‘I do.’”

Before long, music is playing, drinks are flowing, mounds of food cover the buffet tables at the back of the house, and Liz and I have found our spots near the dance floor in the basement where she has access to the bar and I can more easily do my pathetic crowd-scanning thing without being obvious.

“Hey, Liz,” Sam says, running his eyes over her in her black dress. “That dress looks terrible on you. Want me to help you out of it?”

“You wish,” she grumbles.

He grins and dips his head to her ear to whisper something I can’t hear. Whatever it was makes her smile despite herself, but she shoves him softly and says, “Go hang out with your boys. I’m talking to my sister.”

When he’s gone, I raise an eyebrow at Liz. “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on there?”

She crosses her arms and frowns. “Nothing. It’s Sam.”

I sigh. “Well, if you aren’t going to use what he’s offering, can I borrow it?”

“No,” she snaps. Her eyes track Sam across the room.

Holy crap. I think Liz has a thing for Sam. And not just an “I’d f**k him” thing. An emotional thing. Where have I been?

Some emotion I don’t recognize flicks over her face before she pastes on a smile that would probably fool anyone but me. “I mean, I think you could do better, but go for it.”

Not a chance. Not when my twin is giving him the hot-and-needy eyes. I don’t need Sam anyway. Just sex.

I sigh. “I’ll find someone else. Why did no one ever tell me how horny being pregnant makes you? Because this is ridiculous.”

“Seriously?” Liz snorts. “You’ve got two sexy guys who’d kill to climb into bed with you and you’re going to complain to me about being horny?”

I wave away her objection. “Too complicated. I just want sex. A lot of it. As often as possible.”

“You called?” a deep voice says behind us.

I turn and find myself staring into Nate Crane’s intense, brown eyes. Holy cow, he’s sexy, and the way he drags his eyes over my body makes me want to strip off his clothes, crawl on top of him, and take exactly what he’s offering. What was I saying about complicated?

Nate nods toward the dance floor and offers me his hand. “You owe me a dance, angel.”

Mute with longing, I follow him and let him pull me into his arms. He’s warm and his chest is solid against my cheek. He smells so good it makes the muscles between my legs clench.

“God, I missed you,” he murmurs in my ear.

My stomach flip-flops. “You shouldn’t say that.”

“What? I can’t miss my friend? Are you going to tell me you didn’t miss me at all?”

Only every other second and the ones in between. “A little, I guess.”

“How are you feeling?” he asks against my ear. Then I can feel his lips curve into a smile as he adds, “Other than painfully horny, that is.”

My cheeks burn. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Maybe I’m glad I did. Maybe I wanted an excuse to talk my way into your bed.”

I bite my lower lip. Hard. Because I would gladly take him up on that—even if I know I shouldn’t. And it’s not just because pregnancy has left me as horny as a teenage boy at prom. It’s because it’s Nate, and I know a little bit about what would happen if I let him talk his way into my bed. But I’d like to know more.

“We can’t,” I protest lamely, because apparently my brain has conquered my girly bits in the battle for control of my speech. “You know that.”

WHEN I walked into the party tonight, she was the first thing I saw. In a black dress and bright red heels, she’d catch any man’s eye. With her belly rounding with my babies, I could hardly see anything else.

I brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “All I know is that we’re two consenting adults who want and love each other. All I know is that you’re having my babies, and I’m going to be part of your life from here on out, whether you want me or not.” It’s one thing if she doesn’t want to be with me, but I’ll be f**king damned before I let her fantasize about screwing some other man just to get off. “Come with me,” I say, taking her hand in mine. “I need to show you something.”

She narrows her eyes. “What?”

I don’t answer, but she doesn’t argue as I lead her away from the party and up two flights of stairs from the basement to Asher’s second floor.

“Nate,” she says, the warning apparent in her voice as I lead her into my bedroom.

“The balcony,” I say, pushing the doors open.

The night is balmy and the cool air nips at my cheeks, but I needed to get her away from everyone else. I needed to get her alone.

Her shoulders relax a bit as she walks to the rail and settles against it. “It’s beautiful tonight,” she murmurs.

There she stands. Gorgeous and framed by moonlight that shimmers on the water and stars that spread out across the black sky.

“Stunning,” I whisper. Coming up behind her, I place my hands on the railing on either side of her. “And so are you.” She stiffens slightly, and I graze the side of her neck with my lips—not kissing exactly, but definitely pushing the limits of her “friendship” rules. Damn, she smells good. Like vanilla and lavender. But I want her to smell like sex and me.