He stood there for several minutes, as though waiting for a reply before he finally crossed the street. I hung back and waited for the next light. I had no desire to be caught spying on his date. I’d never be able to live that down.
Once I got to the restaurant I noticed them together immediately. They’d opted for the outdoor seating under the heated lamps. A perfect setting for a crisp fall night. She was obscured by the waiter as he poured them two glasses of Champagne. How fucking romantic.
When the waiter moved out of the way, I got my first good look at Angel. She was just like her pictures. Long brown hair, like down to her ass, long. And thick, by the way it barely moved against the wind. There was an obnoxious shade of lipstick on her lips that was somewhere between red and orange. One thing was clear, though—that wasn’t a shade a sweet and innocent woman wore. It was the shade a hooker wore so it would stand out against a cock. Liam was screwed. Or would be, soon.
She wasn’t going to let him out of her grasp without taking him home and having her way with him. The way she was spilling out of her plunging neckline dress left nothing to the imagination. She wasn’t even wearing a bra. I could see her goddamn nips from here! She wanted to be fucked, and who better to take advantage of than a guy she knew wanted her?
Shit. I had prepared him for Sandra Bullock, not Sharon Stone.
Liam was sitting with his back to me so I couldn’t make out his expressions, but his shoulders seemed tense. He kept reaching up toward his neck, probably loosening his tie against her overt sexual flirting. I wouldn’t put it past this wench to using footsies on the poor bastard. I had definitely not prepared him for that.
After the waiter left, Angel leaned across the table and her freaking boobs were literally laying on the table.
Liam reached over and took her hand. She leaned in closer for a kiss—
I turned and walked away. I couldn’t see that. I just couldn’t.
That’s it. I was done. I’d seen enough. I needed to get drunk. Now.
Except, as I walked toward the closest bar, I realized I wasn’t up for being around people. I needed to wallow, and my apartment was the only place safe enough to do that. Though I didn’t have much booze at my place, I knew that Liam had a half a bottle of vodka in his freezer. I knew he wouldn’t miss it. I brought it over months ago for a movie marathon and he never drank the rest. I wasn’t stealing it. I was just taking back a bottle I brought to a party.
I let myself back into my apartment and opened the bottle. This, right here. That’s all I really needed. Screw Liam, and the chick he’s gonna be riding soon.
After my third swig off the bottle, I moved the couch so that Damon’s artwork was against the window. I’d have to save up for months to get a new couch. Until then, I could sit on the chair that I usually dumped clothes on to be folded. Today, it was empty.
I shoved the chair from the corner of my living room and put it in front of the coffee table where the couch had been. No more room for Liam and I to watch movies. No more Liam, period. Might as well get used to it.
Thanks to Liam, my schedule was covered until Monday dinner, which meant I could get properly shit faced tonight. Man, it seemed so long ago when he paid me to kiss him. Shove it out of your mind, Chloe.
I downed another swig and turned on a sappy romance movie to dull the throb in my heart. And another. Fuck it, another. Make this feeling go away.
My tipsy happy place had finally been reached. I took another swig needing to reach the pass out drunk phase, where no feelings at all were allowed in. I could still remember Liam and that wasn’t going to do me any good. Another shot.
When I heard a cackle in the hallway, I sat up, not recognizing the laugh as any of my neighbors.
“Liam, you are so funny. How did I not remember that you were so funny?”
I sat up straighter.
Fuck me. He brought her back to his place. I told him not to do that. It was an open invitation that told her you wanted to have sex. Moron!
Unless…He did want to sleep with her.
Why wouldn’t he want to? Did I honestly think he was going to show up at the date with her, thank her kindly for inviting him out, but then decline her offer for sex because he had fallen madly in love with his next-door neighbor who he had been making out with all week?
Yes. That is exactly what I had hoped for, I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.
Being as quiet as a tipsy woman can be, I walked to the door to eavesdrop on their hallway conversation
“I’m not that funny. And try to keep your voice down. I have neighbors.”
I snorted. Me. He meant me. He didn’t want me to hear this exact conversation. Fucker.
I pressed my ear against the door, listening as hard as my drunk brain could.
“I’m surprised you live in an apartment, given your line of work. You could own a nice house out of the city.”
“Yes, I suppose I could,” Liam said. “But I like living in the city. I enjoy the energy.”
“Well, sure, but it’s not really the sort of place to raise a family,” she cooed.
That little cow. She was baiting him. I knew it. I knew she only wanted Liam because of his money. She needed a guy to be there to support her kid out of wedlock.
“True, but I don’t have a family, Angel.”
“Well, maybe you just haven’t met the right woman.”
Their conversation dropped off, and I heard the tell-tale sounds of kissing.
I covered my mouth and lowered myself to the ground too shocked to think. My eyes glossed over. He was kissing her. Right now. A few feet away from me. Using the moves, I showed him.
My heart felt like it was going to rip in two.
“Angel,” Liam said in a reprimanding tone. “I told you, that’s not going to happen tonight.”
At that revelation, I perked up. Did he just tell her no? I got on my knees and pressed my ear to the door again.
“What you said and what your body is telling me are two different things, Liam.”
The sound of more kissing.
Jesus, this woman was too much.
“Angel. I invited you back here for a cup of coffee, nothing more. We had a pleasant evening. Let’s not ruin it.”
“Ruin it? Honey, it’s finally about to get to good,” she cackled. I wanted to punch her.
“Angel, I have a friend staying over. I told you that. This is not the time or place,” Liam said.
“Well, we can get a hotel then,” she giggled.
“Not tonight, Angel. It was nice catching up with you, but I think it’s best if we just said goodnight for now.” His voice was calm. Steady.
“Oh, don’t be like that, Liam. We’re not teenagers under my parents’ thumbs anymore. Live a little.”
That was it. The chick had to leave. No means no, lady. I ripped open my door, still on my knees, and slurred a delightful, “He asked you to leave, bitch.”
Liam spun around and saw me pulling myself off the ground.
“Chloe,” he frowned, “You’re drunk.”
“And you’re not. So what?” I sauntered over to Angel. “My friend asked you to leave, missy, so why don’t you make like a leaf and tree.” I think I got that wrong, but I didn’t care.
“What is she, your guard dog?” Angel said, clearly not frightened by my bark. Granted, I probably looked like a truck just ran over me. My hair was in a wildly messy bun. My mascara had likely run down my face from crying, which also meant my eyes were probably red and swollen.
“Angel, this is Chloe. My neighbor who is staying with me. Though why she’s not in my apartment right now is beyond me.” His eyes narrowed as they scolded me.
“I just had to pick up the lube for when you returned, honey,” I smirked. If he was gonna berate me, then I was going to embarrass him. Judging by the color of his ears, it worked.
“Let me get this straight,” Angel said. “You went out on a date with me, but you had a girlfriend back at your p
lace?”
“Yes,” Liam said. I knew he was taking her use of the word girlfriend as literal, a girl who is a friend, but it still made my heart flutter hearing the words smooshed together when clearly there was a large space in between them.
I decided to use his words against him to help rid him of his problem.
“Yes, I told him to go out with you. I said if she had big enough tits to bring her home. We’ve always wanted a threesome. Haven’t we, peanut? How do you feel about wearing a strap on?”
Liam’s entire posture turned into absolute panic mode. “She’s joking. Look, she’s drunk, clearly, but—”
“I don’t know what’s going on here,” Angel interjected, looking back and forth between Liam and me. “But I know one thing, you are not his girlfriend. You are so not his type.”
“You don’t know anything about his type, Angel.” I said getting up in her face. “The boy you knew in high school didn’t know a thing about women.”
“No, he didn’t,” Angel said, a tone of judgment in her voice.
“I can assure you, he’s a man now, and he knows how to treat a woman right.”
Angel smirked. “That’s where you’re wrong. He kisses like a wet fish.”
I was affronted for both of us. “Well if that’s true, it’s only because he was kissing you.”
Unable to stop myself I walked over to Liam, curled my hand around his ugly tie and yanked him down to my lips.
At first, he resisted me, likely not wanting to be used to prove a point, but then, he either changed his mind or got into it because all of a sudden, he was lifting me up by the waist. He carried me to the wall as I wrapped my legs around him. He kissed me harder than I’d ever been kissed before, not just by him, but from anyone. For a moment, I wondered if my drunk mind was imagining this, but his hands on my ass were very, very real.
Angel must have thought so too, because I heard her gasp and then the sound of her heels walking away.
I expected Liam to pull away as soon as her footsteps retreated around the corner, but his lips lingered for several minutes after the show was over. When my hand went for his belt, he set me down and pulled away.
“No,” he said. “You’re drunk.”
“Pfft,” I said waving my hand at him. Though I knew I totally was. I didn’t want him to stop kissing me.
“You were supposed to be waiting for me when I got out of the shower. You were supposed to help me through this,” he scolded. “You promised you were going to stay with me for the week.”
He was berating me from so many angles and I didn’t know how to answer them, so I shot back with a few questions of my own.
“Why did you bring Angel back to your place if you thought I was going to be there? Didn’t you know she was going to think I was your girlfriend, dumbass” I said spitting questions of my own back at him.
“Actually, yes,” he said. “I wanted her to meet you. I was hoping you would be here. Didn’t you get any of my messages?”
“You didn’t message me.”
He cocked his head, “Is your phone dead?”
I considered that. I hadn’t heard any notifications lately. “Probably,” I said. I was always forgetting to charge that thing.
“Well, I messaged you after I found out you had gone when I got out of the shower.”
“Yeah,” I said, trying to redo my bun, but without much success. The room was spinning too much. “I didn’t want to be a third wheel on your date with the love of your life and all. I bailed on Stacey because I realized I was broke, so came back here.”
“And what if Damon came back while I was gone? You said you’d wait until the locks were changed, Chloe.”
“He doesn’t have the key anymore, Einstein,” I huffed. “And don’t get high and mighty with me. You didn’t even deny it when she called me your girlfriend!” I said louder than I meant to. I was done with this shit. I needed to go to bed. I turned away from him to go back to my apartment.
“No. You’re not going back there, Chloe. You’ll stay at my place.”
I laughed. “I’m not sleeping with you just because Angel ran off.”
“God, you are such a child when you drink.”
I nodded vigorously. “Yes. Yes, I am.” The room spun a little then, and I felt Liam’s hands around my waist.
“Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”
“That’s what all the guys I date say,” I chuckled at both how funny it was, and how accurate.
I didn’t resist him helping me under the covers. His bed smelled nice. Like him. And his sheets were soft, like his body was against mine. It was almost like being held in his arms. It was nice. Warm. Safe. I never wanted to leave. I knew I’d have to in the morning, but for now, I was content with playing pretend.
Chapter 18
I was so warm. It felt like the sun was beating down on me and a sandy beach and yet, I could feel the sheets under me. They felt hot too. Too hot. My hands felt clammy against the fabric. Why was it so hot?
My eyes opened to a dark room. A room I instantly knew wasn’t mine. It took me a moment to register that I was in Liam’s bed. I felt across the bed, but I was alone. Liam must have stayed on the couch, far away from the drunk lady.
Glowing red lights shouted in big squared numbers that it was 3:46. Way too early to wake up.
Man, it was hot.
I ripped the sheets off me and rolled onto my side. Bad idea. Epically bad idea. Nausea washed over me. Oh god. I was going to hurl.
Rushing out of the bed, made it into Liam’s bathroom in the nick of time. Last night’s bad choices came back, splashing against the bowl with the same speed in which I chugged them down.
I tried to do it quietly, unfortunately, when I hurl, I am not dainty. I am not quiet, and I am certainly not composed. I sort of lose my shit when I throw up. I become paranoid that I’m going to throw up my stomach, literally. Irrational, I know, but we all have our issues. This was one of many of mine, the fear of throwing up my internal organs.
“Chloe? You okay?” Liam cracked the door open.
“Go away,” I said, resting my face against the toilet, trying not to think of Liam’s ass taking a shit on this same seat. The visual sent me hurling again.
In a flash, Liam was at my side, holding back my hair.
“Just go. I’m fine,” I cried, but he refused to leave me. The asshole.
For several minutes, I hurled, and he held my hair. We’d about perfected our routine when I finally felt it was over. When I’d finished, I collapsed against the cold tile. It felt so refreshing.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll clean your bathroom tomorrow.”
“It is tomorrow,” he clarified. Always has to be accurate, that one.
“Shut up. Trying to die, here.”
“You’re not dying. Your body is actually saving your life by ridding you of the absurd amounts of alcohol you drank last night.”
I wanted to come back with a clever retort, but I couldn’t. I had more hurling to do. Goddamn it. Exhausted and miserable, I lashed out.
“I hate you,” I cried, folding myself back against the floor, trying hard not to wonder if I was laying on dried pee.
“You don’t hate me,” Liam said.
“Yes, I do. This is all your fault.” I pressed my face against the floor. It felt so nice. I prayed the worst was over because there was nothing left to come up. As long as I didn’t move from this spot, I’d be okay. I had no energy to stand even if I wanted to.
“Come on. Let’s get you to back bed.”
I heard the toilet flush, but I didn’t move.
“I’m just gonna sleep here. I’ll be fine. You run along, little doggy.”
“Chloe, I’m not leaving you on my bathroom floor.”
Still, I didn’t budge. I couldn’t. Zero energy. A moment later his arms were around me, hoisting me up, not so gracefully, over his shoulder. My ass was right in his face, but I was too tired to feel even remotely self-conscious
.
He set me down gently on the bed, then helped tuck my legs back under the mess I’d made of the covers.
“There ya go,” he said. He patted the covers once, then turned to leave.
“Wait. Don’t go,” I heard myself say. “I don’t want to be alone.”
He paused for a minute then crawled into the other side of the bed.
“Sorry. I get so freaked out when I throw up,” I confessed. “It’s stupid, but I’m always afraid I’m going to die. When I got sick as a kid, my mom used to hold me and stroke my hair, whispering everything would be ‘right as rain’ in the morning, until I eventually fell asleep. And it was. It worked every time.”
The bed shifted, and a moment later, I felt him curl himself around me. Then his hand stroked my hair.
“Everything is going to be right as rain in the morning, Chloe,” he whispered.
Tears ran down my face and I didn’t try to stop them. Things wouldn’t be okay, Liam. They would never be okay again. In the light of day, the real storm would rear its ugly head. Closing my eyes against the pain, I pressed myself against him, absorbing these last moments of his embrace.
When I woke again, the sun was up, and Liam was gone.
“Get used to that,” I whispered to my heart.
With a throbbing head, I rolled over and noticed there was a glass of water and Tylenol on the bedside table.
-Take me- A little note beside the bottle read.
Smiling, I pushed myself up to sitting and felt the full wallop of the headache.
“Yes, sir,” I muttered. My mouth felt like ass, so after I downed the pills, I went into the bathroom and gargled with some of Liam’s mouthwash. I went to pee and noticed that all evidence of my vomit comet had been wiped clean. The lingering scent of bleach hung in the air. He cleaned up my mess. Oh, Liam. He was awesome. God, I was going to miss him.
Just then my stomach gave a rumble. Though mercifully, not to hurl. I was hungry. It was an all-clear signal from the body. Though I’d likely still feel like crap the rest of the day, if I was hungry, the vomiting was over. Thank the fucking Lord.
“I’d kill for a burger right now.” Greasy food was the perfect hangover food. It sopped up the booze still trapped in your bloodstream that didn’t make its way out, or some shit, and made you feel human again. It was science.
The First 100 Kisses Page 13