Because of Liam

by Erica Alexander

  “Good morning. It’s Liam, right?”

  He looks me up and down, once, twice, three times before his eyes meet mine and he acts like whatever he was looking for is lacking. He says nothing. What. The. Actual. Fuck! Okay, I can do this. I try again.

  “We started on the wrong foot. I’m sorry for dumping my drink on you. Want to give it another shot?” I give him my best smile and a hand for him to shake.

  Liam glares at me with his sugarless, bitter coffee-colored attitude and stone cold gray eyes and ignores my hand.

  “Are you going to dump that drink on me again?”

  I’m tempted. Oh, I’m so tempted. I look at my cup and back at him again, and I know he can read it on my face how bad I want to dump my drink on him. But it’s three bucks and I’m not going to waste another lemonade. I dump words on him instead. Those are free and I got plenty of them. Screw nice. Nice is a two-way road and if he doesn’t want to play nice, then neither do I.

  “Did it hurt?” I ask with a small sneer.

  Liam tenses. His shoulders square. “Did what hurt?”

  “Did it hurt when they shoved that big stick up your ass? You know, the stick that keeps you so uptight all the time.” My sneer is full-on now.

  His right-hand fists and he shifts a fraction of an inch. I catch the almost imperceptible movement. Another person may not have noticed it, but for some unknown reason I’m attuned to him. I see it in the way his eyes narrow for just a moment, and how his body adjusts as if either waiting for impact or preparing to attack. I feel the tension radiating from him and I have to say, I relish in the feeling I’m not alone in this strange game of push and pull I find myself in every time our paths cross. And our paths will cross a lot thanks to my sister Skye and his brother Logan. All because of Skye.

  “What? Are you going to punch me?” I taunt. “I know you want to do it. I can tell by the way you’re moving.”

  “I didn’t move. And I would never hurt a woman.” His eyes are fixed on mine.

  “Oh, you moved all right. You gave yourself away without even knowing it. And I’m sure if I had balls instead of tits, I’d be on the floor looking for my teeth right now. But as luck would have it, I’m the proud owner of an awesome rack.”

  His eyes drift to the aforementioned rack and linger for a long time. Long enough for my nipples to harden under his stare. Fucking nipples. It’s not even cold. His eyes darken and then a different expression takes over him. I’m about to snap my fingers in his face to get his attention away from my boobs when we’re both saved by Skye and Logan stepping next to us.

  I know they can pick up on the tension. Heck, a rock could pick the murderous vibes between Liam and me. Skye, always the calm one, defuses it by tugging at my arm and directing me to an empty table.

  “Hi, Liam, good to see you again. Come and join us.”

  When his eyes move to her, he smiles, and it’s an honest to God real smile. His face transforms. He looks happy, younger, and carefree. None of the tension he holds around me is there. Who the fuck is this guy and what happened to the blackened, soulless Liam?

  “Thanks, but I’ll pass. I’ll catch you later, okay?”

  Even his voice is warm and nice. And that pisses me off even more. Why is his disdain directed only at me?

  I’m not used to this kind of response from people, especially not from guys. Catty girls’ jealousy every so often? Yes, I get that. But I’ve never been the target of such unveiled dislike. I pissed him off with my juvenile drink-dumping prank. But I apologized. Twice. I tried to be nice. Didn’t I?

  If he wants to play it like that, I can too. Game on.

  Chapter Three

  Meeting River again at the café did not go as I expected. I hadn’t planned on being an ass yesterday morning—I had every intention of apologizing the next time we met. After our initial encounter four days ago, I had time to think on why I reacted the way I did.

  The old me—the me before deployment wouldn’t have had that reaction. River is not the reason for my anger, just the target. No idea why, either. Well, maybe I do know a little if I’m to be honest with myself, but I’m not going there. One look at her and my hackles rise. I can blame it on the drink dumping. It really pissed me off. Not so much the getting wet part, but how easily she sneaked up on me like a freaking ninja.

  I let my guard down.

  Mistakes happen when I let my guard down.

  Bad things happen when I let my guard down.

  People die when I let my guard down.

  I shake my head as if it could also shake away the thoughts inside of it. But they never really go away, do they? No. They just lie low for a while, waiting for a distraction, a weak moment, and then they come back like the sneaky little bastards they are.

  Logan invited them both over for dinner. He made his lasagna. I haven’t eaten it in years. If I didn’t have such a hard-on for that lasagna, I’d go somewhere else, but I’ve been watching Logan make it for the last couple of hours. I kept trying to dunk chunks of bread in the homemade marinara sauce. The SOB kicked me out of the house and now I’m standing here on the porch steps like a kid in a timeout. The girls will be here any minute now.

  I see Skye coming out of her house. Really convenient for Logan to have his girlfriend living right across the street. She’s by my side a minute later. Not sure what she’s holding in the large brown paper bag in her hands, but it smells fantastic. Something sweet for sure.

  “I don’t know what that is, but please tell me I can eat it.”

  She giggles a girlie laugh. There’s an air of innocence about her. Maybe it’s the clear blue eyes, or maybe it’s the fact I’ve never seen her with any makeup other than lip gloss, or the way she dresses, always casual and comfortable. She’s the complete opposite of Logan’s ex. That one had bitch written all over her.

  “You sure can, but not until after dinner.”

  I make an exaggerated sad face and pout. She giggles even more and goes inside without knocking. I make sure to stay out here for at least another five minutes. Don’t need to witness all the face sucking I know is happening right now. Logan is crazy in love with her and she seems to be crazy in love with him too. I’m glad. Logan needs someone who loves him for who he is and not another nutcase cheating bitch. Thinking about his ex makes me think about my father and the light mood my banter with Skye put me in evaporates. Any time my thoughts stray to my father, I’m overcome with anger. It’s such a dark and noxious feeling, I usually have to go for a run or work out the anger through my fists and a punching bag. Can’t do either right now. I take deep breaths—once, twice, three times and the anger leaves as I make a conscious effort to let it go.

  Just as I start to relax, River shows up. I don’t realize it’s her at first. The black, sleek Camaro with tinted windows stops right in front of the house and the passenger door opens. She leans into the back seat and grabs something—a backpack, then leans toward the driver again. I can tell it’s a guy but can’t see his face from this angle. Did she just kiss him? What the fuck? And why do I care?

  And just like that, I’m pissed all over again.

  Chapter Four

  When I get out of the car, the first thing I see is Liam standing on the steps leading up to the house. And he looks pissed. Why is he looking at me like I stole the last cookie in the jar? I just got here. I didn’t even open my mouth. I didn’t have a chance to piss him off. Yet.

  My eyes trail down his body without my consent. Faded jeans hang low on his hips and hug him in all the right places. There’s a rip above the right knee and just a little skin showing. It’s not those expensive designer kind of jeans with strategic rips already placed in them. I can tell this is a well-worn and well-loved piece of clothing and it has learned the ways of his body to perfection. The faded blue T-shirt is also old and tight on his chest. It grabs at his biceps like it has shrunk from too many washes. He’s not wearing a beanie today and his hair is longer than I expected and lighter than Logan’s
. The dying sunlight makes his skin look even more tanned and golden than before. I try not to look at him too closely. The last thing I need is for Liam to think I’m interested in him. I’d never live that down.

  As my steps take me closer to him, I brace myself and hitch my backpack up on my shoulder. We had a late study group today, and it’s heavy with all the books I have to carry around.

  His lips are moving and words are coming out of it, but my brain is refusing to understand what he’s saying. He sounds . . . jealous?

  “Nice little walk of shame. Or should I say ride of shame followed by a walk of shame?”

  What. The. Fuck!

  I look over my shoulder trying to understand what he’s saying, but the car is long gone. Brian, the guy who always gives me a ride after late study groups, has a girlfriend and zero interest in me. Neither do I have any interest in him, for that matter. She’s usually with him when he drops me off at home, but today she had to be somewhere and left earlier.

  I hate the height advantage he has on me and being three steps down from him is not making it any easier. I think back on what he could have seen to assume I was coming from a hook-up. Nothing. There was nothing. I reached in the back for my bag and then gave Brian a quick goodbye hug and left. The hug? Maybe he thought it was something else? How well could he see into the car from this distance, anyway? It’s not a long driveway, just big enough to park a car with a few feet between the bumper and the street. And even if it was true, why would it piss him off? I’m sure he can get some any time he wants. I mean, look at him? If I didn’t dislike him so much, I’d go for it.

  “What’s your problem?”

  “Just keep your hook-ups off of my property.”

  “I wasn’t exactly fucking him on your doorstep,” I say, not bothering to deny it. That seems to anger him even more.

  “Just keep your hook-ups off of my property,” he repeats.

  “Please, you’re acting like a prude or a virgin.”

  “I’m neither.”

  “Bullshit, you have to be the most uptight guy I’ve ever met.” I can hear the accusation in my voice. “You know what you need?”

  “I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

  “Yes, I will, because no one else does.”

  Taking another step so we’re standing on the same level, I tilt my head up to look him in the eyes.

  “You. Just. Need. To. Get. Laid,” I say, enunciating each word. “Get it out of your system and then you’ll be a lot more relaxed.”

  “Are you offering?” He smirks, his face inching closer to mine.

  Well, hell. I didn’t expect that response. I look up at him as uninvited and unwelcome images of a naked Liam invade my mind. Liam wrapping his arms around me and—

  I stop that train wreck of a thought. “I’m not into angry sex.”

  Liam’s steel gray eyes darken, his voice is lower, huskier. His face so close, his breath mixes with mine and I can almost taste him. His eyes drop to my lips for a few heartbeats before looking back at me.

  “No?” he asks. “What kind of sex are you into?” His voice is a whisper and a caress. “I can be very accommodating.”

  Everything around me seems to slow down in response to my speeding heart. My skin warms under his stare, my stomach clenches, and my nipples strain against my bra. Words escape me for a moment but come rushing back with images of a naked Liam pounding into me. When I respond him, it’s with half a lie.

  “The kind with multiple orgasms and the kind that is not with you.”

  Chapter Five

  There’s a collective moan as we take that first bite of lasagna. A perfect storm of flavors, melting on my tongue. The creaminess of the cheese, the tangy sauce, the freshness of the herbs, all combined into a bite of pure bliss. It’s been at least three years since I tasted Mary’s lasagna. MREs or military rations come in two flavors: bad and inedible. Some of the guys liked them. But I grew up spoiled with Mary preparing all our meals and she could make anything taste good.

  “Bro, this is just as good as Mary’s.”

  Logan has a big smile on his face. I could not have paid him a bigger compliment.

  “Nah, you just forgot what real food tastes like.”

  “Who’s Mary?” River asks.

  Logan is sitting at the end of the table, Skye to his left, and River next to her. I’m sitting opposite to the girls—it’s hard for River not to look my way when she glances over, but she’s doing her damn best to avoid me. She’s discreet. I don’t think anyone else picks up on it. After she threw that little tidbit about multiple orgasms at me, I can think of nothing else but making her come. Multiple times. Add to that the fact I haven’t gotten laid in over a year, and my dick is doing somersaults in my pants in anticipation. Maybe she’s right. I do need to get laid. Now, how do I get her to be the one to take me up on it?

  “Mary is our cook. Or she was when we lived at home still,” I answer, my eyes staying on River.

  “You had a cook?” River asks, but she directs it to Logan.

  “Our mother couldn’t boil water.” Logan smiles at her the way one would at a little sister. There’s fondness in his expression.

  “Logan spent a lot of time in the kitchen with Mary and he learned to cook from her.”

  Skye asks, “How about you, Liam? Can you cook?”

  “Liam inherited Mother’s ability to cook.” Logan laughs, the bastard.

  “How did you two meet?” I ask. “I never heard that story.”

  River groans, while Logan and Skye exchange a look, and Skye’s face pinks up.

  A huge smile breaks on Logan’s face.

  “It was all because of River,” Skye answers me.

  “Yes! Thank you, River.” Logan lifts his wine glass.

  She rolls her eyes at him.

  He goes on. “Well, I was almost at the end of my shift, when I see this car pull through a yellow light and go after it.”

  “Yep. That was me.” Skye points to herself.

  “When she pulls over, and I walk up to the car, I can smell alcohol.”

  That surprises me. I know how much Logan hates people who drink and drive.

  “But it wasn’t me drinking.” Skye picks up where Logan stopped. “See, River was at a party and when her ride bailed on her, she called me to pick her up and she had a couple of drinks.”

  “It smelled like a brewery in that car,” Logan adds.

  “Hey, in my defense, someone spilled beer on me. I didn’t drink all that much.” River glances at me for a few extra seconds now.

  “I told Skye to get out of the car to do a sobriety test. Best outfit ever!”

  I look at Logan. “Okay, you lost me.”

  It’s Skye’s turn to groan and River’s to laugh.

  “She was wearing these little pajamas and pink bunny slippers. Man, I still think about that.”

  Skye takes over. “I left the house in a hurry to get River. I was already in bed and got the car keys and ran out, didn’t even grab a jacket or my purse, which means I didn’t have my driver’s license on me and Logan followed me home so he could look at it.”

  “I’m sure he did.” I smirk at him.

  “Can you blame me? I mean, those PJs were small and so tight and it was freezing that night—”

  Skye slaps him in the arm, but there’s no heat behind it. He grabs her hand and kisses her open palm. There’s a lot of heat behind that.

  “Yeah,” River interrupts. “But that was after she offered to give him a blowjob and decided to buy a vibrator.”

  I choke on my water while Logan is laughing and Skye’s face turns five different shades of pink and red.

  “That is NOT what happened.”

  River shrugs, in a very nonchalant way, like a self-satisfied cat. “That’s how I remember it.”

  I look at the three of them and they look like a family. All these stories they share, the words they exchange with just a glance. I feel like an outsider. Like someone looking in through
a window. Watching it all, but not really a part of it. It makes me a little sad and a little envious. Don’t get me wrong. I couldn’t be happier for Logan. I guess, I’m wishing for a bit of the same.

  River sneaks looks at me when she thinks I’m not paying attention and I wonder what she sees when she does.

  “You cooked, we’ll clean up.” Skye offers after we’re done with dinner.

  “Actually, you both did. Logan cooked, and you baked, I can handle the clean- up,” I counter.

  “I didn’t do anything. I guess I should help clean up too.” That’s River. I’m a little surprised, but I’m not turning her down. I can see in her face that she expects me to.

  Chapter Six

  When we finish bringing the dirty dishes to the sink, Liam asks, “Wet or dry?”

  I’ve always enjoyed washing dishes. I find it relaxing, without thinking I say, “Wet.”

  The big smirk on his face tells me I‘ve walked into a trap. The effort to avoid looking at him during dinner and the two glasses of red wine I had slowed me down. What did I miss? I take an extra second to get it. Wet. He did not ask me wash or dry. He asked wet or dry and I walked right into it. And he’s enjoying it immensely. Something twists inside me. There’s a change in the way he looks at me, in the way he’s talking, and that twisty something inside me likes it entirely too much.

  Fuck. Me.

  And why is he asking that, anyway? Logan has a dishwasher. No need to dry anything. He’s just trying to get under my skin.

  I do my best to ignore him and rinse the dishes.

  “I can rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, no need to dry anything. You don’t have to be here.”

  “I live here,” is his smart-assed answer.

  I fight the urge to roll my eyes and try again.

  “Listen, it’s clear you don’t like me and that’s fine. I’m not looking for a new best friend. But my sister and your brother are a done deal. And for both their sakes, do you think you can attempt to be civilized around me?”