“I was going to put my number in it. You know, that’s what friends do.”
“Despite being friend-zoned, I’d love your number.” Ignoring his comment, I add my number to his phone, and he calls mine, so I have his number too.
“Friend-zoned?” I question. “It’s called dating. Things take time.” Not with Liam, they don’t. I place my hand on his rock-hard chest and smile up at him. “I want to enjoy the summer. That’s what I’m doing right now, and you’re helping with that, so thank you.”
He releases a quiet groan. “And you’re driving me crazy, which I can’t say is making this summer super amazing, but I’ll endure the chase because you might be worth it.” I might not be. I have a bad track record of choosing guys or letting them choose me, for that matter.
“Maybe, maybe not,” I offer as I wave goodbye. “See you tomorrow.” Tomorrow, when I have to start digging to China with the hope of removing myself from the middle of a very uncomfortable trio I’ve apparently joined.
He watches as I make my way over to my car, and I feel bad for icing him tonight, but I think the kissing games should stop until I figure out what the hell is going through my head. Kissing games. Ugh. Liam. If kissing him was a game, I’d lose every time. Every freaking time, which is not what I should be thinking as I wave off my date.
It’s early, like embarrassingly early to prance back into the house, especially since Samantha, Daniel, and Dylan probably haven’t even returned from their dinner yet. I push the gear into park, quietly slip out of the car, and press the door shut with my butt so it doesn’t slam. The last thing I need is Liam thinking his little games got to me and cock-blocked my date, which is pretty much what he was trying to do. To be honest, he may have succeeded, but he doesn’t need to know that. Though, if he had just behaved today, I probably wouldn’t have gone out with Sterling at all tonight, which makes all this a little more screwed up than it already was.
I take off my shoes and head down the path that leads to the beach. There are no lights down here, but the stars are so bright, I have no trouble seeing my way to the rocks.
As I dip my toes into the cool sand, I find the tide to be out farther than I’ve seen so far. The ocean seems so far away, but I can hear the waves crashing as if they were only a few feet from where I’m standing.
I drop down onto a flat rock and pull my knees into my chest, feeling my flowy sundress sweep across the tops of my feet.
How I’ve gone twenty-two years without ever seeing a sight like this is sad. Even in the dark, the inky ocean liquefying into the endless night sky is by far the most peaceful scape I’ve ever seen.
Just as I feel like I’ve made a dent in clearing my mind from this day, something horrifying appears in the distance. It’s walking toward me from the water, and it’s glowing orange and blue. Um. I look in every direction, thinking this is a joke, but no one else is around. I need to get the hell out of here.
Panicking, I jump up from the rock and run as fast as I can through the soft sand, which makes running crazy hard. It’s like quick sand, but I’m scared to look over my shoulder in fear that whatever the thing was has made its way closer to me. I can feel a presence coming up behind me too.
I’m so close to the path, and for some stupid reason, I assume the thing won’t leave the beach. That’s how it works, right? I hope.
Nope. It has my arm.
Terrified, I shriek at the top of my lungs, and a gloved hand cups over my mouth. I hope whatever the hell this is doesn’t care about me peeing in my pants because that’s about to happen.
The thing flips me around, and I don’t feel any better about what’s going on. The orange and blue glowing lights are blinding, and I’m nearly hyperventilating. “Please let me go,” I cry out, feeling small drops of pee dribble out. I didn’t think someone could literally scare the piss out of a person, but now, unfortunately, I know the truth about that. I’m about to be murdered on this beach, and the last thing I’ve done on earth is pee myself.
Thrashing about, trying to get away, I scream again, begging for mercy, and the thing tears its masked face off, revealing another face.
Liam’s face.
“What the fuck!” I shriek and slap his chest over and over, which I don’t think he felt, and then I hug him because I’m so grateful he isn’t a sea monster or murderer coming to kill me.
“Did I scare you?” he laughs while catching his breath.
“Do you have any clue what you look like right now?” Now that I can see a little clearer, I can tell he’s wearing a wetsuit, and his white board is about twenty feet behind him under the reflection of the moon.
“A surfer?” he asks with a wet brow raised.
“It’s night. Aren’t there sharks and stuff?”
Liam checks his limbs over to be funny or cocky, whatever he’d like to refer to it as and smiles down at me. “Nope, no sharks tonight.”
“Do you always surf at night? Plus, didn’t you just text me like forty minutes ago?”
“I surf when I’m not getting laid by some hot beach chick, but the water was scummy tonight, so I’ve only been out here for a few minutes.”
Mmm. “Yeah, not so shocked to hear that you’re the guy you accused Sterling of being.”
“Why’s that?” He crosses his dark arms behind his head, waiting for my response.
“Well, you seem kind of easy,” I tell him.“Easy,” he repeats through a gravelly groan. “I think you have me wrong.”
“I think I have you right,” I argue.
His eyes lock on mine, and the fluttering in my heart swoops down, down, down between my legs, making everything hurt inside.
“How was your date?” While his pinned glare hasn’t moved from my eyes, the mood has most definitely changed.
“My date? It was cock-blocked.” Saying this is basically telling him he won. Why did I do that?
“I wasn’t even there. How’s that possible?” The glow of his teeth shimmers under the moon’s glow, making his crooked grin look even more sinister than I’ve seen it before.
“Liam, your games have me worked up, but there’s a problem here.”
“And what’s that?” he asks, shifting his weight from one bare foot to the other.
“I’ve promised myself not to get involved with a man like you again.” I exhale loudly, frustrated with the truth.
“A man like me?” he questions.
“Hot men, you’re all just too into yourselves.” It sounds very discriminatory when I say it out loud. Maybe I should have kept my reason to myself.
“Well, thank you for that honesty, but obviously, you’re going to have to give me a little more explanation for this interesting vow you’ve made. Are you saying I’m too into myself?”
I wrap my arms around myself, feeling a bit more insecure than I did a moment ago. “Can you honestly look me in the eyes and tell me that most good-looking men aren’t into themselves more than the women they’re with?” Regardless of how uncomfortable this conversation is, I tell myself, whatever information I get from him will be great research for that book someday.
Liam takes a step closer, his gaze still hooked on mine. “First, I don’t date hot men, so I can’t answer your question. Second, I’m not some self-centered jerk. I like to play games with the people I like, and I protect the things that I love by fighting for them.”
Fight for them. Protect them?
Dylan.
This has always been about Dylan, and I thought he was using him as an excuse to be rude to me.
“So, then, what? You like me, but you think I’m going to hurt something you love?”
“You’re smarter than I’ve given you credit for,” he tells me as he takes another step closer. He reaches into a small pocket on his chest and the blinding lights covering his body go dark, taking some relief off my eyes. “Plus, I’ve written off women who live by self-absorbed rules and who have an issue with beautiful things in life.”
“See,” I tell h
im, slapping my hands down against my legs. “You just called yourself beautiful.”
“No, I didn’t,” he argues.
“What beautiful things am I discriminating against then?” I ask, sounding as heated as I feel.
“You are clearly against the essence of living second by second and taking every moment as a surprise rather than an assumption. You judge books by their covers. You read people without taking a deeper look, and you’re missing out on life because you’re avoiding what scares you.”
Hearing everything he’s saying is giving me a closer look into what makes him who he is, and the only conclusion I can come up with is that— “You have a secret.” I don’t think I need to ask. I’m sure he has a reason for being the way he is because “It’s the only reason you’d act as moody as you do.”
“A secret,” he repeats, not as a question, but not as an answer either.
“Yes.”
“Maybe I do,” he kind of agrees.
“What is it?” Like he’d just tell me because I asked. Can’t blame a girl for trying, but now that I know he’s hiding something, it will eat me up inside until I find out what I’ll probably never know.
He respires with defeat and slouches his shoulders forward, bowing his head with what appears to be shame. “I—ugh, this is hard. I’ve never told anyone this before.”
Oh, my God, he’s actually going to tell me? I place my hand on his pec and tilt my head to look up at his face. “It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.”
“I can’t,” he argues against whatever thoughts are clearly fighting through his head. “It’s too hard to admit.”
“We all have secrets, Liam. You know mine from earlier today.” That wasn’t really a secret, more like a lie, but I’m trying to ease his discomfort in any way I can.
“You’re right. You did come clean about that.” Hearing him suffer through his words is something completely different. It’s a side of him I haven’t seen yet, and I kind of like it.
“Before I tell you this secret, you have to promise me something . . .”
“Anything, of course.” My God, this man has me eating out of his hand right now.
“Promise you won’t have pizza with Sterling again.” There it is, the controlling aspect of this game.
“Liam, I can’t promise you that. Regardless of what happens between Sterling and me, we’re friends.”
I’ve officially friend-zoned two guys in one day, and I think that may be a new record for me.
Although, I’m debating if I can even consider Liam a friend. It’s not like we’ve been exchanging funny stories and having nice conversations. Seeing as that’s been missing from this equation, I’m not okay with being told who I can or can’t see.
“Fine, but . . . just keep an open mind, okay?” he concedes.
“Mmm, I don’t know,” I agree. “But I think you should still tell me your secret.” Did that sound like I was begging? Yup. It did. I am.
“Okay, okay.” He blows a long gust of air from his pursed lips. “Here it goes . . . I—” he squeezes his fingers around his temples with the appearance of suffering through this moment. Just say it, Liam. He’s beating himself up over whatever this is, geez. “I—I have a . . . fetish for . . .” He groans and sighs again.
“What?” Where the hell is he going with this. “What do you have a fetish for?”
“Red vibrators,” he says, as serious as anyone could be while saying something like this without cracking a smile.
I close my eyes and nod my head, knowing I fell for another one of his stupid “games.” When my eyes reopen, he’s beaming from ear-to-ear, and I take the opportunity to hurt the palm of my hand by slapping his chest again. I already saw that this method of venting my rage was ineffective, but he’s making me so angry, I don’t know how to manage my emotions.
He jerks back a bit, recoiling from my girly hit, and bursts out laughing. “I couldn’t help myself. It was too easy.” All of that, and he still has a goddamn secret I am now determined to figure out.
“Just like you. You’re too easy,” I tell him again. He steps forward once more because there is no more space for him to move. He’s in my bubble again, hovering over me and making my heart beat so hard it might explode.
“I play games with you because I think you might be able to play them back with me. You’re tough, funny, smart, and drop-dead gorgeous, so you’ll have to excuse me for making you my prime target for torture.”
“You’re still too good-looking for me to like,” I lie. Yeah, I like him. I liked that kiss. Hell, I loved that kiss. It’s been on the forefront of my mind for the past six hours now.
“How do I fix this problem?” he asks.
“Prove to me you aren’t a jerk.” There’s no way to prove that. I always find out after my heart has been handed over on a silver platter and wrapped with a bow that heartbreak will always come when least expected. However, any writing professor I had in college would tell me there’s no such thing as too much research when it comes to writing about a subject that expert knowledge is needed for.
“I can’t prove I’m not a jerk because I’ve already proven that I am,” he tells me. “But I can tell you one thing, though . . .”
“If it’s about my vibrator, I don’t want to hear it.”
His hands reach over and cup my elbows as he pulls my body in against his. Clearly, my rule doesn’t prevent me from breaking it. Expecting him to say something as ridiculous as his fetish confession, he opens his mouth to talk and releases one hand from my elbow and places it under my chin. “I’ve never broken a heart. It’s always been my heart surrendering.” There’s truth in his eyes, and the only reason I think I know this is because I haven’t seen it there before.
“So, you’re saying my rule shouldn’t apply to you?”
His face lowers toward mine, bringing his nose to my nose. “I can give you several reasons why your rule shouldn’t apply to me.”
“I’d like to know one of those reasons,” I tell him, maintaining little strength in this moment.
He slides his nose in a bit closer and caresses his lips on mine, sending a shooting current down my spine. I want to press up on my toes higher than I already am to reach into more of the kiss, but he’s controlling every second of this, just as he’s been trying to control everything else.
There’s one problem with that, though. I’m more controlling than he is.
I loop my arms around his neck and jump up to wrap my legs around his wet waist. He scoops his hands beneath me, holding me in place as I show him exactly how I want to touch his lips.
Feeling as though I’ve lost all my senses, I nip at his bottom lip, which somehow makes everything between my legs swell at the same time.
Our kiss becomes fierce and wild, though kissing him hasn’t been suppressed from the moment he threw me onto my bed. The electricity between us is the most powerful thing I have ever felt with a man, and there is no coming back from this. I know he can feel my heart pounding against his chest, and I want the feeling to last, to feel the rush as the warm breeze surrounds us along with the sound of crashing waves. Then there’s the scent. It’s changed and morphed into the salty fresh air, along with the traces of cologne or soap still saturated in Liam’s skin.
His arms are woven tightly around me as he walks us back toward the path. Our lips remain in their tango all the way up to the house where he changes course and brings his lips to my neck. “What about—” I try to talk, but I have little air left to do so.
“They won’t be back for a while,” he says between kissing and sucking on my neck. He brings us into the house and manages to hike up the stairs with my body still tangled around him.
I’m not going to lie . . . it’s hot.
We end up in Liam’s room, and he closes us inside, pressing me up against the back of the door. His lips continue to do all the work while he explores every inch of my neck and exposed chest. “Is it too soon to want to rip this dress off?” he m
utters against my collarbone.
“No,” I cry out. “Please.”
“Thank God,” he relents.
He tugs at the hem of my dress, pulling it up and over my head before tossing it to the ground. It’s a complete turn-on when he takes a moment to glance down at my body, blatantly checking me out with approval as excitement shines through his eyes.I slide down against the door as he releases his grip from my waist, moving to my arms that he pins above my head. His body is pressed firmly against mine and his cock is fighting against my waist, bruising it with its hardness as his mouth softly roams along my neck, setting my senses on fire.
“It’s a good thing I have a lot of condoms,” he mutters into my ear.
“It’s a good thing I told you to get extra large, but I am on the pill with a clean bill of health,” I reply.
“I’m clean as well,” he groans. “I just . . . I prefer to get dirty.”
“I like dirty,” I whisper into his ear.
My words urge him to move our party to the bed as his arms cradle me like we’re in a wild dance, spinning across the room until I land flat on my back in his beautiful man-scented bed.
He peels his wetsuit off, revealing a stunning canvas of muscles and tattoos.
Busy staring at his goods, I can’t help appreciating how nice his satin sheets feel on my bare skin, but they aren’t effective for lying still. As he climbs on top of me with a seductive look in his eyes, my head not-so-seductively slips off his pillow and lands beneath his chest. Oops. Um. This is—yeah.
We awkwardly twist around as I try to pull my head back up to his pillow, careful not to knee him in the balls at the same time. I feel like I’ve done that to someone at some point in the past. Coordination has never been my thing.
“Okay,” I say, laughing timidly.
“You okay?” he asks.
Yes, I slipped on your satin sheets and almost fell through your legs, which would have worked out perfectly for you. I’m just great. No problem. Keep going. Liam reaches beneath my back, trying to unclasp my bra with one hand. Waiting for the release, I look around his room awkwardly while he unsteadily kisses my chest. My bra isn’t unhinging. Shit. This is the one that melted in my dryer, and the clasp is bent the wrong way and hard to detach. “Here,” I say, pushing up on my elbows, reaching for the back of my bra. Of course, not without shouldering him in the nose at the same time.
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