Because of Liam

by Erica Alexander

  That little voice tells me he sounds just like me, but I tell it to shut the fuck up. I get as far as the garage door and turn back around. In hindsight, it was a big fucking mistake. I should’ve keep on going.

  “You know what I hear, Liam? A whole lot of bark and no bite!” I walk back to him until I’m so close I have to look up to meet his eyes and then I jab my finger on his bare chest after each word. “Every time I see you, you tell me you’ll fuck me five different ways from Sunday and yet here we are and it’s just blah, blah, blah and you think all this talk about fucking will get me to come after you and beg for a lay? It will never happen!”

  He grabs my jabbing finger and then flattens my hand on his chest. I can feel his heart’s furious beat under the palm of my hand.

  “Say the word, River,” he orders me.

  “No.”

  “Say the word, River. Say please.”

  I laugh. “You think you have a magical dick and I’m enthralled by it? Do rainbows and unicorns jump out of it when you come?”

  His lips hitch up a bit at the mental image I painted for him. But he fights the smile, then moves my hand down his chest and over his abs and holy shit, I’ve seen his abs before but damn, touching them is something else altogether. I’m distracted and I should know what he’s up to, but can you blame me? I didn’t catch on until it was too late and there’s a full smirk on his face and it’s not the only thing that’s full.

  So is my hand. Yep. My hand is full of dick. His dick and it’s hard and long and my freaking hand is actually groping him. Or it’s trying to because I can’t close my fingers around his dick. Fucking traitorous hand. I hate his track pants. I love his track pants.

  He closes his hand around mine, tightening it around his dick. Nope, still not able to close my fingers around him. “Why don’t you give it a try and find out, River? I do like to bite. I like it a lot.”

  It’s been two hours and I’m sitting on the couch staring at my hand when Skye comes in loaded with grocery bags.

  “What are you doing?” she asks me.

  “Do you think I have small hands?” I hold my hand up for her to see.

  She puts her hand on mine. “No, not really. Our hands are the same size. Why?”

  “Have you ever held a dick your hands could not wrap around?”

  She blushes. The curse of pale skin. Every thought shows in her face.

  “Logan?” I ask.

  She nods.

  “I guess it runs in the family,” I mumble.

  Her eyes go round. “You and Liam—”

  “No. Nothing happened. Well, one thing happened. He grabbed my hand and put it on his dick.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything. My hand did it all by itself.” I hold my hand in front of me again as if it’s an alien object. “This freaking traitorous hand has a mind of its own.”

  “But how? What—”

  I cut her off before she has a chance to ask anything else. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. It’s weird. You’re dating his brother. Come on, I’ll help get the rest of the stuff from the car.”

  She lets it go, but I can feel her worried eyes on my back. She’s been looking at me like that often in the last few months. If she only knew why I’ve been so evasive, but I can’t. I can’t talk about it. If I don’t think about it, if I don’t talk about it, it’s not real. My rational brain recognizes what I’m doing. Denial is the first of the five stages of grief. I tell my rational brain to shut the fuck up. I’ve been saying it a lot lately.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I had no intention of going out tonight, but when Skye mentioned the boys were coming over to watch a movie and hang out, I knew I had to get out of the house before Liam showed up. I ran into him a couple times after the track pants incident and managed to be polite and stay cool. I made sure there was always someone else around when we met. Liam behaves himself when other people are around. He saves his special kind of pervert just for me. His words may be polite and casual when other people are around, but his eyes—they speak a language of their own. Those eyes tell me things that keep me awake at night. He’ll be nice and casually touch me, his fingers trailing down my back or arms. It all looks so innocent from the outside. It’s anything but. He knows what he’s doing, and it’s driving me crazy. Hence the need to flee my own home tonight and be at this party. It’s been three hours now and I’ve had enough of the loud music, the mixed smells of perfume and cheap beer, and too many bodies bumping into me in the cramped space. Three hours should have been enough to watch a movie. I texted Skye fifteen minutes ago and asked her to pick me up, yet again.

  The party is getting out of control. Two girls are making out with each other much to the delight of the hockey team. I try to get away from the girls, but I’m trapped in the corner by the half open window where I stand trying to get a breath of fresh air. I check my phone again. Skye said she’d text me when she gets here to pick me up. Nothing. I will never ride with Becca again. This is the third time she left me to fend for myself this semester alone. Yeah, right. I snort at myself. I know I will, if for no other reason than knowing that Becca doesn’t have many friends and I need to watch her back.

  The girl-kissing duo tries to pull me between them.

  “Err—thank you, girls. But I will not be the third one on your ménage à twats. I kind of like dick.”

  I’m trying to pull away from them when a big muscular arm wraps around my waist and picks me up, pulling my back against an equally big and muscular chest. My feet are no longer touching the floor. Lips touch my left ear.

  “You seem to be obsessed with dick. Every time you open your mouth, the word comes out. Or does this only happen when I’m around you?”

  Liam. My arms instinctively grasp his, holding on as he easily gets past the girls and through the throngs of people. They part for him like the Red Sea.

  “Put me down! Liam! Put me down right now!”

  He stops, still holding me tight against his chest, and my body is all too happy about it. “Did you leave anything behind?”

  “No, I have my phone and my purse.”

  “Then there’s no reason to let you go.”

  He ignores my trying to pry myself from him and continues to hold on to me. We’re outside and he keeps on going, cutting across several lawns until he comes to Logan’s truck. I can feel him, all of him through the fabric of my dress and his jeans. Then my brain registers it. I CAN FEEL HIM! And he’s hard. Really hard against my ass. Fuck! I’ve been struggling this whole time, trying to get him to let me go, and all I did was rub myself on him. I stiffen. And his chest rumbles with contained laughter. He’s enjoying this.

  Then he opens the passenger door while still holding me, my feet still dangling, and slowly, very, very slowly, Liam slides my body down his. I feel his warm breath on my neck and his lips move into my hair, but he says nothing.

  My dress of course rides up in the friction between our bodies and I’m so aware of him, of his smell, of his heat and the way his arm pushes into me and how my hands can trace and feel the muscles and the veins beneath it.

  When he finally lets me go, I wobble a little and both his hands go into my hips, steadying me. I turn to face him, pulling my dress down my thighs, but it’s too late. Thanks to the lights coming from inside the truck, he got a good view of my bare ass.

  He smirks. “Now tell me please because I can’t quite tell. Are you wearing a thong or are you panty-less?”

  “I have underwear on! Not that it’s any of your business!”

  He pouts. He freaking pouts! And fuck me! Fuck me hard if I don’t want to suck on that lip and bite it. What’s wrong with me? Bad River! Bad, bad River!

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Skye was busy with Logan. I saw the message on her phone. I volunteered to come get you in her place.”

  “You volunteered? Is this the Hunger Games now?”

  He looks me up and down sl
ow, taking in the red dress I’m wearing, the four-inch fuck-me red sandals that lace up my calves. He licks his lips. “Yeah, I’m really, really hungry right now.”

  My body tightens. There’s so much lust in his eyes and so much promise in his words. I suck in a breath and mutter under my breath.

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh, but I heard you, River. You said, ‘fuck me, fuck me hard.’ I can do that. I can fuck you hard and I can fuck you slow. I can fuck you any way you want. Just say the word, River.”

  I scoff. “In your dreams!”

  “Oh, River, in my dreams you have already been thoroughly fucked. In every way possible. You have no idea. But I can show you. Just say the word.”

  I bite my tongue, get in the truck, close the door, and look straight ahead. I can feel him looking at me through the window and then again while he drives us back to the house. I don’t say another word until we get home. In fact, I just walk right into the house, past Skye and Logan entwined with each other on the couch watching TV and go straight to my room and lock the door. I don’t say another word until the next morning when I first open my eyes, and when I do, the only thing I can say is, “Fuck me! I’m so fucked!”

  Chapter Twenty

  Rolling out of bed, I drag my ass to the kitchen. Skye is sitting at the counter holding a cup of coffee and blowing on it before she takes a sip. When she sees me, she puts it down and walks to the coffeemaker and pours a cup for me.

  “Thanks, sis.” I feel like I have a hangover even though I didn’t drink yesterday. I didn’t sleep much. Liam’s words are seared into my mind. He dreams about fucking me? In every way possible? When I did finally fall sleep, I dreamed of him and the way his body pressed into mine.

  I look back toward her bedroom. “Logan didn’t sleep over?”

  “No, he has an early shift today. He left with Liam right after he brought you home.”

  She waited for me to say something, but I said nothing.

  “How was the hockey party?”

  I snorted. “It was a testosterone slash slut fest. These two girls tried to get me into a threesome with them.”

  Skye laughs at that. “Only you, River.”

  “If I ever tell you I’m going to a party with Becca again, please lock me in my room and throw away the key.”

  “I can’t believe she left you hanging without a ride again. And why can’t she find guys who have cars so she can let you drive?”

  Becca has two rules. She only dates guys younger than her, and she never drinks if she’s with a guy. Ever. If she’s on the prowl for a hookup, she’s sober and in control. There’s a pattern to how Becca behaves. It didn’t register at first, but of late and the longer I know her, there’s more to Becca than meets the eye. I don’t really know all the details about her life, but I know enough and what I know isn’t good. Despite all appearance to the contrary, Becca is a good friend, but she keeps her past under lock and key. She has allowed little bits and pieces to escape here and there, but as soon as I try to get her to open up, she shuts me down. I can respect that. I so can respect that.

  “Becca is a cougar in training. She only goes after freshmen and most of them don’t have a car on campus. And she knows I have you to bail me out.”

  Skye looks at me over her cup and I know she’ll ask me something I don’t want to talk about.

  “What’s going on with you and Liam?”

  “Nothing, there’s nothing going on.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “There is a lot going on. Maybe you two haven’t acted on it yet, but you can’t say there’s nothing going on because it’s clear for anyone with eyes that as soon as the both of you enter the same zip code there’s a whole lot happening.”

  “There’s nothing—”

  “Why are you denying it? It’s not like you to see something you want and run from it. If it were anyone else, you’d be all over him. Is it because he’s Logan’s brother? If so, you don’t have to worry about it. We’re good with it.”

  “First of all, I don’t want Liam. Second, why are you and Logan talking about me?”

  “You want him just as much as he wants you.”

  “No and no!”

  “As soon as you come into the room, his eyes are all over you. He tracks you around like a heat-seeking missile and he always asks about you.”

  “He asks about me?” I’m surprised.

  “He asks about you in very indirect ways.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like he’s asking me questions about me, but they really are about you.”

  “Can you be a little more specific?” I say, irritated.

  “Like, ‘What are the Devereux girls up to today?’ or he’ll make a comment about whatever we’re talking about, but he’s really fishing for info on you.”

  “Where’s all this talking taking place?”

  “Every time I go over at Logan’s and he’s there. We talk sometimes.”

  “And you’re just telling me this now!” My irritation is rapidly approaching bitch levels.

  “I thought you weren’t interested.” She smirks at me. She’s got me.

  “River, you know you can tell me anything, right? We haven’t really talked in months. You used to tell me all about your dates. If Liam is anything like Logan, he’ll be a solid ten.”

  Yeah, I used to talk to Skye about everything. I have certainly overshared, even when she did not want to hear it. But I can’t anymore. I just can’t. To say it out loud. To actually say the words—it will make everything real and I can’t. I can’t make it real. I want to forget it. I want to forget it ever happened and then the irony of it hits me so hard, I don’t know if I want to laugh or cry. I want to forget something I can’t remember. I cried enough, so I choose to laugh.

  “Well, you haven’t shared much either, Skye. Why don’t you tell me about Logan?”

  She blushes and I successfully deflect the conversation to her.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  We’re about to clean up after dinner when my cell phone starts to ring.

  I look down and see it’s Mom. I cringe a little because I haven’t talked to her at all in nearly two weeks and I know she will not stop calling until I answer.

  I accept the call and put it on speaker, placing the phone on the table between us so Skye can talk to her and take some of the heat off me.

  “Hi, Mom. How are you?”

  “She lives!” Is Mom’s sarcastic reply.

  “Sorry, Mom. I’ve been busy. Hey, I have you on speaker. I’m here with Skye, Logan, and Liam. We just finished dinner.”

  “Even E.T. found a way to phone home, and he had to use an umbrella. Being that you have a cell phone at your disposal, you’d think it would be easy enough for you,” she says, but there’s no anger in her voice. Mom never gets angry.

  I’ve been avoiding calling her since our last talk. Mom always knows when something isn’t right and I really don’t want to get into a Liam discussion with her again.

  “I’m really sorry, Mom. Just busy with school and all.”

  “You’ve been busy with school for the last three years and that never stopped you.”

  “Hi, Mom,” Skye jumps it, trying to deflect Mom’s attention. That never worked. “How’s dad?”

  “Skye, I spoke with you this morning already. You know your dad is fine. River, there are only two acceptable reasons for why you haven’t called me all week.”

  There’s a pause before she continues.

  “One, you’re so sexually frustrated because that boy has not taken you to bed yet, and your hands have been too busy trying to get yourself off for you to reach for your phone, or two, that boy has taken you to bed and you have not left it yet and are too tired to reach for the phone—”

  “MOM!” Skye and I say at the same time.

  I’m blushing, Skye is blushing. I look over at Logan and Liam and they’re both blushing. Holy shit! How could I have forgotten
how my mother gets when she wants to make a point?

  She goes on as if we haven’t just called her name.

  “So, Liam, which one is it? Frustrated or satisfied?”

  Liam’s mouth opens and closes a few times and he looks at me like I can stop my mother.

  “I’m sorry?” he finally says.

  Thankfully she lets him off the hook. “Well, I just want to make sure everyone is alive. Don’t make me drive all the way over there, River. Call me. Got to go now. Love you all!”

  “Okay, bye, Mom.”

  “River?”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “You should know better than put me on speaker.” And with that she hangs up.

  We all look at each other in silence for maybe ten seconds until Logan bursts out laughing and then Liam and Skye. I’m not laughing.

  Skye looks at me. “Ah, come on, it’s funny.”

  “Holy shit,” Liam says. “Now I know where you get it from.”

  I scoff. “And you think I’m inappropriate? Try growing up with her.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  No school today because it’s the last week of classes and we’re pretty much done. The next two weeks are finals and project presentations and then, that’s it—graduation. My only plan is to sleep in and maybe move from the bed to the couch, Netflix and chill. The alone kind of Netflix and chill. Tomorrow I can start cramming for exams. But like all the best laid plans, someone or something always derails it. This someone being Skye when she walks into my room, opens the shades, then plops herself next to me on the bed. I squint against the invasion of light into my previously darkened room, pulling the covers over my head and trying to avoid the conversation I know is coming since Mom’s call last night.

  Skye pulls the blanket back down and off my face.

  “Fess up, what exactly is going on between the two of you?”

  “It’s complicated.”