by C. Lesbirel
“I’m sorry, we already have a handful of charity commitments, and I’ll be honest, the thought of donating to pandas just doesn’t do it for me.” Those that we do donate to are mostly chosen by my mom. I don’t usually have much to do with that side of the business, we employ people to organize our public relations to free up my time for more pressing issues.
By the time we finish our food, we are both a little flirty and a lot tipsy. I get the bill and slip an arm around Heaven as we decide on having one more for the road in the bar next door.
The music is blaring, and the place is covered in cheap neon lights, some flashing while others are cracked and broken.
“I hate places like this,” Heaven yells over the music.
“Why? Are you too much of a snob to get down, Heaven?” I tease her.
“Oh no, you didn’t just say that, Liam Parker.”
“Shots it is then?”
“Shots it is.” She grins, challenging me. That’s more like it. I don’t mind talking about work with her, in fact, it kind of turns me on watching her get all passionate and shit, but I love seeing her like this. She is so obviously outside of her comfort zone; it gives my ego a boost to know she’s pushing her boundaries for me.
I wonder how far she’ll go. How far we’ll go. One thing’s for sure, I have to see this girl again. If she can have dinner and drinks with me somewhere like this, wearing a top covered in spilt champagne, she definitely deserves a proper date with the five-star treatment.
We slam down the first two Sambuca’s in style, and I order two more. I haven’t been drunk in so long. The last time I drank in a bar like this was probably with Jaxon in my twenties. I know I’m gonna pay for it tomorrow, but right now, it feels pretty fucking good to relax and let loose. Maybe Shiloh was right, maybe it has been too long since I took time just for me.
“This is so not me,” Heaven shouts to me, backing up toward the dance floor and swaying her hips side to side. She’s got a bottle of Bud in one hand and her clutch in the other. Her skinny jeans show off her slim legs that stumble a little as she begins dancing.
I watch from the bar, taking a swig of my beer. She’s a lousy dancer, really pathetic, but there’s something endearing about how she dances anyway, not giving a shit who’s watching.
A guy at least ten years younger than me clearly thinks so too. Before I can cross the dance floor, he makes a move and begins dancing around her. My fists clench automatically, and my blood runs cold with an urge to drop kick the douchebag straight in his ass. Fuck, this girl is getting under my skin.
Of course, I resist the temptation to rip him apart and politely move in, giving him a death stare when Heaven starts booty dancing on me. What the fuck? I thought this wasn’t her type of thing.
My hands fall to her hips naturally, and my fingers are set on fire from the contact.
I hear her mumbling to herself, “The only other time I’ve felt this carefree was with the pandas. God, Liam, a donation would really help.”
“Is this how you do business, Ms. Samson?” I ask, watching her grind against my cock as I try not to get a hard on.
She stops and turns to face me, her blue eyes flash grey. “Why, is it making you want to write a check?”
I’d pay serious money to see her shake that delicious ass in my cock’s direction. “Not for any pandas,” I reply, truthfully.
“You wouldn’t say that if you’d been there with them. You should see it for yourself before you say no.”
“You really think that would sway me? Do I seem like the kind of guy who changes his mind?”
“Actually, yes. I’m telling you…” She pokes me in the chest and falls forward into me. I catch her by the elbows with my bottle of Bud still in between my fingers. “Come to China with me. I’ll show you around Panda Hearts, and then, if you tell me you don’t want to donate, I’ll accept ‘no’ for an answer.”
Taking another sip of her beer, she hiccups and gets a serious case of the giggles.
“I’m sorry, Liam Parker.”
“Sorry for what?” She looks up at me, and I wish we weren’t in a packed bar, but alone somewhere quiet, just the two of us.
“I think I’m a bit drunk. I got drunk on our date, and I’m sorry.”
“I think you got me a bit drunk too. You’re a bad influence.”
“You have no idea.” She laughs, and I lean into her to cut her laughter off with a kiss. She closes her eyes, pouting, and just as our lips are about to connect, she falls forward and her head slams against my chest.
“Are you okay? I think we better get you some fresh air.” I push her hair away from her face and pull her close, so I can guide her through the crowd, dropping our bottles onto the bar on our way outside.
12
Heaven
What am I doing… saying… thinking? Did I really just invite him to come to Panda Hearts? Oh God, I feel sick.
Really sick.
“You okay?” Liam pulls away from me, and I regard him, taking in his cushion lips and hoping he kisses me because I want to kiss him so mu…
“Shit,” he yells as I vomit all over his shiny, bound to be designer shoes, and I die a little inside.
“Crappity crap,” I mumble looking up at my date, whose eyes are wide and full of concern. “I’m so sorry. I don’t really drink much and all this fresh air…” My body sways, and he catches me again. I like the way it feels and wonder if he will just keep catching me. Like that game of Trust Fall kids play in high school where you yell ‘catch me’ and drop dramatically to the ground amongst your friends. Whoever jumps forward to save you first wins the title of the loyalist friend.
“I’ve texted Mason; he should be here soon.”
“I just need to sit down for a minute,” I say, leaning down to the ground and taking a seat on the edge of the curb. Liam sits beside me, and my head tips over naturally to his shoulder. To be fair, it feels so heavy, I think it would probably fall off if his shoulder wasn’t blocking it from doing so.
“Who’s Mason?” I slur out.
“My brother. He’s the one who drove us out here.”
“Your brother is your driver?” He chuckles in response.
“Not usually, but he doesn’t mind giving me a lift every now and again.”
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” I warn him, and he shuffles his feet out of the firing line without moving his shoulder.
I manage not to puke, but am still feeling super nauseated when the limo arrives to pick us up. Liam practically carries me over to the car and helps me get in.
The engine starts up, and I fight to keep my eyes open as I’m back in my safety position with Liam’s shoulder acting as my personal headrest.
“You said you don’t normally drink much. That definitely seems to be true.”
“I don’t really drink at all.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? We didn’t have to go to the bar; we could have done something else.”
“It’s okay, I had a good time. Before the sick part. I typically hate clubs, but I had a lot of fun.”
“Me too, but you still don’t look so good,” is all I hear him say before I crash out. When I wake, we are pulling up outside an apartment block I don’t recognize.
“Did I fall asleep?”
“I think so. I didn’t like the thought of you being home alone, so I’ve brought you to my condo instead.”
“What?” I snap to my senses, bolting upright and checking out the window to see where we are for a second time. What do you know, just like Liam, it screams expensive. Shit. This is only our second date. I can’t stay over, can I? But then, he doesn’t seem the type to get all weird or anything. He’s been nothing but polite all night, and the thought of crashing out anywhere right now is better than the thought of driving back to my place, which I’m guessing is a good few miles away, judging by the look of this complex. My head whirls, and I feel nauseous, but not in the about-to-throw-up way. More the, I-need-to-lie-down-and-sleep
sense.
Liam must feel my apprehension as he jerks his head to the side, saying, “Come on, let’s get you inside. You can sleep off the crap wine, and I’ll have a driver take you home in the morning.” He takes my hand and it melts under the warmth of his firm grip.
He says something I can’t make out to his brother and tugs me out of the car, into his chest. His arm closes over my shoulder, and I inhale a strong smell of cedar wood, oranges, and a little sweat that makes me woozy again, but for the right reasons.
“You sure about me staying?” I ask out of nowhere.
“Are you sure about you staying, you mean?” He laughs, and for the first time, I hate that he reads me so well. Was it that obvious that I don’t do this kind of thing? Not crediting his question with an answer, I let him lead me inside the building. The whole building is operated by key cards and feels more like a hotel than a home.
“This is where you live?” I can’t help but ask as I take in the splendor of his home.
“Yeah, what do you think?”
“It’s nice,” is all I can manage. My head is beginning to hurt, and my brain is fuzzy.
“Thanks.” As we step inside his condo my eyes widen at the size of the place. It’s around five times bigger than mine and ten times as fancy. There’s nothing much in here and everything is mostly grey or white. It makes me want to buy him some rainbow-colored cushions and throw them on the furniture to cheer the space up. It is kind of depressing and dull and everything seems to serve a purpose, rather than spark joy, but I can totally see why he lives here. The view is incredible. Florida’s night lights are on full display through the huge glass panes, and I realize this must be the penthouse as it’s not overlooked by any other buildings.
“Sit here, and I’ll grab you a drink of water,” he instructs, and I’m more than happy to do as he says. He helps me down on to the huge grey velvet corner sofa. I sag against the squishy back, looking up at him as he pauses to give my hand a squeeze before releasing it.
“You good?”
“Uhm,” I moan in response.
When my eyes open again, I jump out of my skin. I must have fallen asleep because I’m lying on a soft cushiony pillow and am under a grey fur throw that has a familiar smell of Liam clinging to it, and the condo is bright from the daylight beginning to pour in. Shit.
Bolting upright too quickly, I flex a wrist over my forehead and stretch out with the other arm.
“You’re awake,” Liam’s voice announces, sounding chirpy and much more together than I feel.
“Liam, I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I ruined our date.”
“Don’t be crazy. I’ll be in, in a sec,” he shouts from the kitchenette side-eyeing me across the countertop.
He turns on a blender, and I cringe at the noise, pulling the blanket up around myself and thanking God that I’m still fully dressed, although my skinny jeans feel like they are attacking me since they are so tight. Under the safety of the blanket, I undo the top button to give my bloated stomach some breathing space.
Liam appears a few seconds later handing me a glass of oddly colored juice. It looks like he is passing me a cup of diarrhea, but the thought of putting anything in my stomach makes it turn. How can I refuse though, when it is accompanied with that killer smile and set of naked abs that are tight enough to prepare a meal on? Eww. The thought of food makes me shudder.
“Drink this, it will help,” he says, sitting opposite of me on the other corner of the sofa.
“What is it?”
“It’s the ultimate hangover cure, you have my baby sister to thank for that. She invented it years back for my brothers and me, and it works every time.”
“I’ll be out of your way in a minute. I’m so embarrassed,” I admit.
“So what, you got wasted. It happens to the best of us. Don’t worry about it.” He glances out at the view before his eyes land back on me.
“You can grab a shower or anything, if you need to?”
“No, no thanks, I’m fine. What time is it?”
“Seven fifteen.”
“That early?” I wince. “How are you so awake? Were you sipping water last night?”
He lets out a light chuckle, and I love the way his green eyes sparkle as he does. I try to focus my attention on them because it’s pretty obvious that my eyes can’t divert themselves from his sun kissed bare torso. Every subtle move he makes only accentuates one of his muscles more than the one before. Reaching for his mop of dark hair, he runs a hand through it, making me want to do the same. His bicep bulges as he does, and I trace my gaze along to his forearm, sipping the shit in a glass and admiring his delicious arm candy.
When our eyes meet again, I blush at the fact that he’s caught me checking him out.
“Believe it or not, this is actually late for me. I’m a morning person. I am usually already working by now, but I’m feeling a bit rough myself.”
He has got to be kidding. He looks like he just stepped off a Tom Forde sleepwear campaign. Meanwhile, I look like crappity-crap.
“I’m going to order an Uber. I need to get my shit together; I haven’t drank that much in a long time.”
“No need, I’ve already texted Mason. I figured you’d want to get back to your place and freshen up.”
“Mason?”
“My brother.”
“Right. Of course. He drove us last night.”
“You remember.” He cocks his head to one side, and his greens penetrate my blues.
“Of course. I had a really good time.”
“So did I. I’d like to see you again.”
“You would?” Shoot, that wasn’t supposed to come out sounding as gob smacked as it did.
“I mean, if you’re up for that?”
“Totally. I need to redeem myself after last night.”
He doesn’t argue with me, as we are disturbed by a loud buzzing sound that has me clutching my head again. Liam crosses the room to the door and presses a button on an intercom system. I take the few seconds his eyes are off me to make sure my boobs are both inside my cami top and takeoff the blanket, folding it a bit, and quickly fastening my jeans.
A few minutes later, his brother appears, and my jaw drops. He’s equally as stunning with the same square jaw as Liam, but his is covered in a thicker layer of stubble, and his hair is shorter. His eyes are just as intense as his brothers, but a deep brown and staring right at my cleavage. Liam must notice, too because he quickly says, “You can borrow the blanket, if you like?”
He doesn’t need to offer twice, and I wrap it around myself like a cloak of protection from the world. Mason shuffles uncomfortably as I wrap it around myself, and I suddenly wonder how many women he has picked up from his brother’s condo. Men who look like the Parker brothers must have women throwing themselves at them all the time.
“You ready?” Mason asks me, and I nod, feeling awkward.
“Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to say hi last night. I wasn’t sure if my brother was trying to impress you by pretending he had some fancy driver. I’m Mason, by the way.”
“Hi.” I smile, and Liam passes him a death stare that makes me chuckle.
“I’ll give you two a minute.” He smirks and steps outside, leaving me alone with Liam.
“You sure about the blanket?”
“Of course. It’s yours until the next time I see you?”
“Thanks,” I mumble, darting past him and out of the condo with the blanket that smells of him wrapped around me. I don’t want to risk him trying to kiss me when I can tell my morning breath smells like death.
“Thanks for last night,” I call back to him, already heading for the elevator that Mason is standing by, and I don’t even remember coming up in.
“Sure, thanks for the proposal.” He winks at me, and I fly around to face him.
“Proposal?” I whisper shout at him down the corridor, not wanting any of the other residents to hear us.
“He’s ki
dding,” Mason confirms, and Liam holds his hands up in the air, giggling as I scowl.
Stepping into the elevator, I take a last glance at him. He fills the doorframe with his very tone naked upper half and his low-slung tartan pajama bottoms displaying his perfectly defined hip dip. He is the true definition of the American alpha male, and I have a horrible feeling that if he wants to, Liam Parker could chew me up and spit me out. Yes, I certainly will allow him to. My guard is falling down around me, and I feel helpless to stop it.
He watches me until the doors close, separating us. Half of me wants to run back to his condo and throw my arms around him. The other half wants to run away from there and never return because I know what men like that do to girls like me. Lately, I feel like these same thoughts are on repeat in my head. There are not many things I’m scared of in life, but I’ve been burned before, and there is no way I am going to let any man put me back in the corner that Richie did. Every ounce of my confidence has been fought for, fair and square. So now that I’m questioning myself about Liam, I know I’m in trouble.
When we reach the limousine, Mason opens the rear passenger door for me, sweeping an arm across his waist inviting me to get in.
I walk around him and open the passenger front door as his eyes follow my every move. “You wanna ride up front?”
“I’m not sitting in the back like some princess with you driving me around. It’s just weird.”
“I drove you last night,” he challenges.
“That was different, I was with Liam.”
“Why?” He looks genuinely puzzled.
“Do you always ask so many questions?”
“Fine, have it your way.” He rounds the car and climbs into the driver's seat, and I climb in next to him.
“I roughly remember where you live, but you’ll have to direct me when we get a bit closer. So no falling asleep, okay?”
“Do I look that rough?”
“You want an honest answer?”
“Nope,” I confirm, facing forward and taking sneaky glances at him as we hit the freeway.
