by Lee, Geneva
We washed the dishes together, blowing bubbles at each other and nearly breaking half the plates fooling around. When I finally pushed him out the door an hour later, I slumped against it.
I wasn't sure what I was getting into with him. Somewhere deep inside me a voice chastised me. This was an epically bad idea. I was only going to get worse, but a second voice piped up, reminding me that I wasn't just risking my own heart. I was risking his.
The problem was that I already knew I didn't have the strength to stay away from him. I had tried that, but Liam pulled me to him like a magnet. The more I resisted, the harder it became. That was the real issue. I knew in the end whether he wound up back in Scotland or if he found out the truth, we were both heading for heartbreak. But for the first time in a long time, I wanted the moments that would happen between this day and the one that was inevitably coming, because I knew they would be worth it.
What I didn't know was whether or not I could survive losing my heart to me, but thinking of his lips and his hands holding me close to him as we made love, I couldn't bring myself to care.
Chapter 12
"You will not fucking believe who I ran into!" The f-bomb heralded Cassie's arrival at the apartment before I could pop my head out of my room to see who was here
"Do tell," I called as I threw a thin sweater over a low-cut tank top. It was sexy enough without looking like I was going out on a hot date.
Even though I totally was.
"Do you remember Ryan?" she asked.
We plopped onto the couch and she grabbed for our remote while I searched my brain for any memory of a Ryan. "Wait, the metrosexual wanna-be farmer?"
"Yes, him! He's from New York City—"
"And he wants to be an organic farmer," I finished for her. "What's up with him?"
"He's goddamned gorgeous. Busy playing in dirt," she said. She flipped through channels, showing no interest in any shows.
"Should Trevor be jealous?" I asked.
Cassie's big brown eyes rolled up. "No way. I can still appreciate something beautiful though, can't I?"
"Of course." Ryan was almost too pretty, but he rocked a body that made him look like a male model. It seemed a shame to waste it, or his fashion sense, out on a farm.
"How was last night?" Cassie asked.
I froze, confused as to how she knew what had finally happened with me and Liam. Then I realized she was referring to my absence at Garrett's. I'd discovered a dozen texts sent last night when her and Jess tried to find me. Each text more panicked than the last and all unanswered.
"There was a fight at the bar and I got mixed up with it, so they kicked me out," I said, conveniently leaving out Liam's role in the evening's events. But even as I innocently recounted them to Cassie, I felt over-heated, and I was sure she would notice.
"No shit?" Cassie turned, eager for more details, but interest immediately turned to concern when she saw I was flustered. "Are you feeling okay? Do you need me to grab something from you?"
"I'm fine." I shook off her concern. It was at once reassuring that she didn't realize I was flushed from excitement and annoying that she immediately turned into a mother hen.
Hen.
I smiled.
"Now you're just acting strangely," she said. She watched me with narrowed eyes, trying to decipher what was going on with me.
"More strangely than normal?" Jess asked, lumbering into the room with a stack of ten or so textbooks cradled in her arms.
I stuck my tongue out at both of them and grabbed for the remote, switching the channel to a Bachelor marathon.
"She got kicked out of the fucking bar," Cassie told Jess. "Did you know that?"
Jess shook her head as she slammed the books onto the counter. "How did you get kicked out?"
"She got in the middle of a fight," Cassie said. She clicked her nails together like she always did when we were gossiping.
Except I didn't like being the center of the gossip. "I didn't say I was in the fight. There was a mix-up."
"You know I heard about a fight when we got there." Jess perched on the barstool and shot a mischievous smile my way.
Oh shit.
"You did?" I asked weakly.
"It was the talk of the bar."
"It was?" Cassie asked, sounding confused.
"You were too busy sexting Trevor," Jess reminded her.
"Guilty." Cassie blew her a kiss.
"So everyone was talking about this Scottish guy just laying some asshole out flat. Apparently, he insulted a girl." Jess paused and waited for me to respond.
I took a deep breath, then groaned loudly. "It was not about me."
"What was it then?" Cassie and Jess asked at the same time.
"This guy sort of drunk-dived me and then he wouldn't let go, so Liam stepped in. He was just trying to be nice."
"His version of nice sounds a little violent." There was disapproval in Jess's voice.
"Was it totally hot?" Cassie asked me. As usual she was more interested in the dirty details than judgment.
"He didn't hit the guy because of me. The jerk called him a sissy Brit and asked him where his skirt was."
Cassie covered her laughter with her hand and even Jess smiled.
"And?" Cassie prompted.
"So Liam punched him and then he sort of said something like 'they're called kilts and we wear them because of our enormous cocks.'"
Jess fell of the stool and Cassie's head dropped into my lap as they both shook with laughter.
"He really said that?" Jess asked, panting.
"He really said that," I confirmed.
"The more important question is does Liam need to wear a kilt?" Cassie asked. She wiggled her eyebrows up at me.
"I am a lady," I said.
"Since when?"
"Not fair," I said with a pouty frown.
"So you got kicked out because Liam hit someone? That's what's not cool." Jess arranged herself cross-legged on the rug.
I hesitated, knowing they were going to blow this little tidbit out of proportion. "No, they kicked him out, so I left in protest."
"Wait." Jess said as she held up a hand. "You left with Liam?"
"We left the bar together." I wanted to drop it at that. At this point I wasn't lying to them, but I wasn't exactly telling them the truth, which suited me fine.
"And that sweet Scottish boy didn't walk you home?" It was moments like this that I cursed whatever remnants of Southern propriety Cassie still carried with her. The girl could curse and drink like a sailor, but she still expected chivalry.
I clamped my mouth shut, deciding that exercising my fifth amendment right was safer than actually telling them that he had, in fact, walked me home. There was no way I'd be able to stop their questions then, and no way I could hide my shifting feelings for Liam.
"Oh come on, Jills," Jess begged. "I have to go to my study group soon."
"Skip your study group. We'll wait her out," Cassie advised.
I checked the time on my iPhone. If I could get them both out of her within 15 minutes I didn't have to worry about them crossing paths with Liam.
"Omigod, are you texting him?" Cassie squealed, swiping the phone from me.
"Is she?" Jess asked from the floor.
"No." Cassie sounded disappointed.
"You would think we were on an episode of the Bachelor with all your imagined drama," I complained. "It's not like I got into a fight at the bar. Chill out."
"You are keeping something from us," Cassie said. She poked an accusatory finger into my side.
"There was something white all over the counter this morning," Jess said, eying me suspiciously.
"It was probably dust," I said. "It's not like we ever clean."
"It was not dust. It was flour!" Jess jumped onto her feet and proceeding to dance around the living room.
"No one has ever been this excited over flour before," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
"You're dressed up," Cassie notic
ed.
This was exactly why I didn't tell them anything. If I wasn't careful they were going to insist on taking photos of us when he came to pick me up. It would be one horrible high school prom flashback after another.
"He's coming over, isn't he?" Jess asked.
"Don't you need to head out for your study group?" It was nearly eight already. Liam was going to be here any minute.
"They can wait," she said, grinning at me.
"Guys," I pleaded, but Cassie and Jess grabbed each other and pretended to embrace passionately.
"Liam!" Jess cried.
"Jillian!" Cassie pulled her close like they were going to kiss.
A knock at the door startled them apart and they turned to me with wide, expectant eyes.
"I'm revoking your friend cards," I said.
“By the way, you lose, Jess. The next latte is on you,” Cassie crowed. She might as well have yelled nah-nah-nah-boo-boo.
“That could have been our latte,” Jess said to me in a pouty voice.
“Sorry, it was worth it.” I grinned at her just as there was another knock at the door.
"Open it," Jess said, but when I refused to budge, she ran to the door herself.
The door swung open to reveal Liam in his low slung jeans and a black button down shirt. Against his fair skin, he looked like he'd walked out of a teenage vampire novel. I gulped and forced myself up.
"Come in, Liam." Jess opened the door wider, allowing him to step inside our apartment.
Liam's hand was behind his back and he gave us a crooked grin.
"Jess, it’s nice to see you," he greeted her.
Cassie jumped forward, hand outstretched. “I’m Cassie.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you from Jillian,” he said, taking her hand. “I feel like I already know you.”
“You know,” Cassie said, “I feel the same way.”
Probably because Jess had live-texted our first morning after to her. I could only pray she didn’t mention that to him now, but knowing Cassie she probably would. Hell, she might even pull out her phone and show her the pic Jess snapped of him making waffles that morning.
"We have to get going," I said, grabbing his arm and attempting to haul him out the door before they could embarrass me any more.
His hand swept around to reveal a box of Chiclets. "I was going to get you flowers, but I didn't know what you liked. Well, other than poor chewing gum and waffles."
"Oh, she loves your waffles," Cassie said in a devilish voice.
I was going to get them back for this. One day it was going to be a boy on the other side of the door looking for them. I made a mental note to ask their moms for old baby photos.
"I love making her waffles." Liam was enjoying their attention a little too much. I couldn't let him spill the beans.
"We have homework to do," I lied.
"Is that anatomy homework?" Cassie's eyes traveled down the length of Liam as obviously as possible.
"We're going to see a movie," Liam said. He took my hand and then he leaned in and planted a full, hard kiss on my lips. I melted on the spot, my free hand absently reaching up to clutch his shirt.
"Whoa! Save that for after the date," Jess said. We broke apart and I looked sheepishly at my best friends. There was no hiding any of this from them now.
"If she's lucky," Liam said with a smile.
"I'll expect waffles in the morning." Jess winked at me.
I pulled Liam out the open door, pausing when I realized I didn't have my wallet. "Hold on."
I walked back in, keeping my head down and reached for my wallet on the bar, but Jess grabbed my arm and gave me a peck on the cheek.
"He's a catch," she whispered in my ear.
That's exactly what I was afraid of.
Chapter 13
I chose a horror movie, because it seemed like the right choice for our first date. I couldn’t think of anything worse than winding up at a sappy romantic comedy full of awkward moments. Those inevitably feature Happily Ever Afters, which was a bit presumptuous on a first date, if you asked me. Liam bought the tickets and held open the door for me, and every once in a while as we stood in line for popcorn, he’d lean over and kiss my forehead, sending flutters tumbling through my stomach.
“A large popcorn and chocolate-covered raisins,” Liam ordered. “Do you want candy?”
“You eat chocolate-covered raisins?” I asked.
“Says the girl obsessed with Chiclets.” His hand pressed to the small of his back, hot and strong, as he teased me.
The teenage cashier coughed politely, and I shook myself out of my daze.
“Those chocolate mint thingys,” I said to the kid.
“Is that the technical term?”
I stuck my tongue out at him, but he just grinned wider and slid his hand down to hook his thumb into the waistline of my jeans.
Liam paid and we grabbed our snacks. The theater lights had already dimmed by the time we made into the very last row. As we tucked ourselves into the corner seats, I considered putting the armrest up between our seats or placing my hand on his leg or laying my head on his shoulder, but I couldn’t make myself move. I had forgotten how to be on a date. I had forgotten how horrible those in-between moments were when you first started going out with someone. Always waiting for a sign to make a move. The constant bumping together of hands like each person is daring the other to finally reach out and hold hands. I tugged at my shirt and adjusted my sweater, suddenly feeling warm and cold and confused at the same time.
Then Liam slung an arm over my shoulder and pulled me closer to him.
“Hold on,” he said, pushing the armrest up between the seats. “That’s better.”
I snuggled down next to him, watching the previews, and feeling relieved. I wasn’t used to be the girl who didn’t know how to make a move. Kiss a boy? Sure. Flirt? I could totally handle it. But apparently seeing a movie was way out of my wheelhouse, and I didn’t like it. I slid my hand onto his thigh, close enough to his groin to feel a slight twinge of lust. Liam lifted my hand and put it back in my lap.
So that was how this date was going to go? Two could play that game. I sat up straighter, putting space between the two of us, but letting his arm dangle casually over my shoulder. Liam offered me the popcorn tub, but I shook my head, my eyes glued to the screen and a lump in my throat.
He leaned over and put his lips so close to my ear that his breath tickled my neck. “Don’t be mad, chicken.”
“I’m not mad,” I said too loudly, which elicited a shush from someone a couple rows away.
He pulled me back towards him, his strong arm wrapping possessively around my shoulders as his other hand turned my chin. As soon as our eyes met, I felt silly.
“It’ll be more fun this way,” he whispered. “I promise.”
“What will be more fun?” I asked in a low voice, narrowing my eyes and trying to still look put out by his rejection.
He answered me with his lips. His kiss was hard and demanding, and despite my every intention to play hard to get, my fingers reached for his chest. I trailed my hands down, my fingertips practically vibrating over his washboard abs, but when I got to his jeans, he reached down, his mouth still over mine, and brought my arms up to his neck. I forgot the slight instantly as his teeth caught my tongue ever so lightly. I moaned, and he drew me closer, pressing our mouths harder together, to stifle the noise. His lips trailed away from my mouth, sketching across my jawline and finding my ear. He nibbled at it, and I had to clamp my mouth shut. It would set a bad precedent if we got kicked out of every place we went to together.
“Like secondary school, remember?” he breathed to me.
I couldn’t help but remember the torture that was a high school date. There was always plenty of kissing and tongues and a fair bit of awkward groping. I’d even gotten the courage up to go down on my boyfriend senior year in a theater not unlike this one, but for the most part, a high school date was like being pumped full of aphro
disiacs and then put in separate, glass boxes. There were always too many clothes and zippers and buttons.
But there was also the fear—of getting caught, of going one step too far. The fear was nearly as all-consuming as the hormones, and the fear made every single nerve in my body tingle with nervous anticipation. And then there was the possibility. That this would be the time, he slipped his hand down my pants and magically knew exactly what to do. I could act shocked afterwards.
Liam and I were already well past this stage. I’d barely known his name when we covered all the old bases.
“I wouldn’t have had the guts to do this in high school,” I whispered to him, running a hand quickly over his crotch. I could feel that he was rock hard under his jeans, but Liam pushed my hand away again.
“You don’t want me to?” I asked.
“Oh, chicken, I want you to,” he said in a husky voice. “But I’ll be able to screw you six ways to Sunday if you keep your hands off me.”
So that’s what this was about, suddenly I made contact with my inner, horny teenager. I’d been in these positions before, clenching my thighs together and kissing for so long that I almost ceased being able to breathe independently. Yes, it had been torture to hold back then, but I’d gotten pretty good at teasing myself. I reached for my box of chocolate mints and ripped open the top. On the screen, a girl was already running through the woods, inexplicably topless, but I didn’t care. Next to me, Liam shifted around in his seat and I knew he was uncomfortable. I tilted my head toward him and popped a mint in my mouth, sucking off the chocolate coating. Liam raised an eyebrow and I smiled at him, leaning over to kiss him. I kept the soft mint muddled under my tongue and opened my mouth against his, blowing ever so slightly into his mouth, my breath cold and hot at the same time. Liam’s hand clamped over my shoulder, but I tugged it down onto my breast. He might not let me touch him, but second base was clearly within high school make-out session territories. His fingers skimmed over it lightly and then he flicked my nipple. It was an expert move. No boy I dated in high school would have had the skill to do that, which is why a loud moan slipped from my lips.
