by Amy Daws
She grabs Ethan’s arm and leads him into the dining room to join James and the others.
“Was the chair-announcement really necessary?” Liam murmurs into my ear.
“Just trying to get people to notice me,” I reply.
He looks down at my mouth and says, “It’s impossible to not notice you.”
I look back at him and squint my eyes. I don’t know if it’s the strong punch or if I’m just feeling extra brazen as a tart, but I decide to say exactly what’s on my mind.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re behaving how a jealous boyfriend behaves. Last I checked, I was single.” I feel a pang of guilt saying that out loud. I think it’s the first time I’ve said the word single since college.
Liam gives me a hard look and I nearly regret my words. But it’s true, he’s acting too domineering given that this is only the third time we’ve hung out. Frank rushes past us into the dining room with an arm full of beers and clean plastic cups, “Fucking straight! I’m going to whip you Americans. You’ll regret ever teaching me how to play this insidious game!”
Liam glances over to Frank and sighs, tilting his head thoughtfully at me.
“Did I say or do something to upset you?” he asks.
I consider his question. He really didn’t do anything bad. But just the way he’s looking at me and shielding me from Ethan feels way too familiar. It feels like…Brody. A twinge of pain hits me as I remember how protective Brody was in the early days of our relationship. There were several college parties that ended in me dragging Brody out by his arm before he started a fight with someone who got too fresh with me. The whole Jake fiasco turned Brody into a bit of a caveman. It took months of convincing and placating to get him to relax and trust me more.
“I’m just not used to other people protecting me I guess,” I offer him. It’s a cryptic reply and I can tell he knows it, but he chooses not to press it further and moves away from me into the dining room.
I do my best to ignore Liam’s watchful stare as I sidle up over to Leslie. We decide to separate ourselves and be team captains. Frank appears to be the only one who knows how to play Tippy Cup, so we explain the rules. There are two teams that stand across from each other on either side of the table. You fill your cup with a small amount of beer, usually no more than a swallow or two. When the game starts, the first two people of each team chug their beer, set their cup down on the edge of the table and tip it with their fingers until it lands on the topside of the cup. As soon as you successfully tip and land your cup, the next person on your team goes. First team to finish wins and you start the whole process over again.
Leslie picks Liam as her teammate first. I’m thankful for that and decide to pick Mitch for my team. I feel like we have a bond ever since the lemon-drink day, and he seems eager to play…well, as eager as Mitch ever could be. I also get Ethan, Theo, and one of Leslie’s coworkers from Nikon. There’s an even sixteen of us to play, which is good because no one has to sit out a round. Thank goodness Frank’s dining room table is large, though it’s so beautiful and I feel bad for a second about the amount of beer that’s about to get dumped on it. Frank doesn’t seem to mind though, he’s just sulking because he was picked last for my team.
“It’s like bloody primary school all over again,” he looks down sadly.
“We just saved the best for last, Frank,” I coo into his ear.
“I bloody well hated primary school. I never quite fit in, you know?”
He looks at me with a surprised look on his face and it’s all I can do to conceal my smirk. He’s asking me this question so seriously while wearing a two-foot tall Pope hat.
“How about you be our team leader and go first?” I suggest, which seems to perk him up some. We move all the chairs away from the table. Leslie and Frank are at the heads of their sides of the table, then it’s me across from Liam, Mitch across James, Ethan is facing off against Julie, then Theo is up against one of Frank’s friends he knows from school. Then Leslie’s two other work friends are facing off against each other. Rounding out the last two pairs are Julie and Mitch’s three friends, whom I haven’t been introduced to yet, against another one of Frank’s friends. I haven’t been formally introduced to everyone but that doesn’t matter. Tippy Cup always helps make fast friends.
Liam shoots me a wink as a peace offering, and I smirk back at him. He smirks back and raises his eyebrows quickly at me. I shake my head at him and give him an all business look to indicate we need to focus on the game, not each other. He licks his lips thoughtfully as he eyeballs mine. Damn him.
“Alright! Everybody know the rules?” Leslie yells loud enough to be heard all the way down the table.
Suddenly, Mitch and Ethan switch places and Ethan’s arm brushes up against mine as he readies himself to face off against James. I look over and see Julie mouthing off to Mitch that she’s going to beat him. Liam eyes Ethan cautiously.
“Ready. Set. Tip!” I shout. Frank and Leslie are off. Frank’s hat immediately drops off the back of his head as he tips his drink back, revealing sweaty orange hair. God, Frank is funny even when he’s not saying anything.
“Stuff it!” he shouts, as he readies his now empty cup to be tipped. He misses and looks over to Leslie who can’t seem to get hers to land right either. Shameful, Leslie. Just shameful. She must be out of practice.
Frank nails his landing and I snatch my drink up and gulp the entire contents down in one swoop. I calmly place my cup on the table and peg the landing on the first try. Ethan whoops loudly and takes his turn. I look over to Liam and see that he’s struggling. A lot. I smile as his expression turns serious while he tries to concentrate. Leslie is coaching him from the side but he just can’t seem to figure it out. Finally, he lands his cup and I look over to see that Ethan and Mitch have already successfully tipped their cups and Theo is up. He fumbles a few times and then gets it, and our final teammate, Leslie’s coworker, begins chugging her drink.
Julie seems to be struggling on the other side of the table and I can’t help but laugh fondly at her. Her slanted eyes are squinting so hard in concentration; Mitch seems to be enjoying Julie’s struggles as well. I glance back to see Liam’s eyes locked on me. My smile drops; his look is intense and it sends flutters down my belly.
Suddenly, cheering erupts from my side of the table and Ethan swerves around and high fives me. Frank sings We Are the Champions while I laugh so hard at Julie who’s still trying to land her cup.
“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!” she cries. Mitch heads over to give her some pointers.
“Okay then! Now Liam and Finley will start it off and Frank and I will finish,” Leslie announces.
Everyone goes back to their places and readies their cups with beer.
I lock eyes with Liam.
“Ready. Set. Tip!” I shout, and Liam’s and my death stare breaks when we both tip our cups back into our mouths. God, he looks hot drinking his beer.
I land mine on the first tip again and Liam gets his on the second. James struggles for a bit but then Julie is up. She cheers loudly as she lands hers on the first tip. Theo struggles for much too long, and Leslie’s team wins.
We all play nicely for another few rounds and it becomes obvious everyone is feeling the effects of all the beer chugging. We decide to do one more round and then call it quits for awhile.
It’s down to the end and Ethan and James are the last ones to tip. They both fumble over and over, adding suspense to who will win the final round. When Ethan finally lands his cup, our side bursts into cheers and Ethan turns and scoops me up into a big hug. He lifts me from the ground and I feel my dress sliding up dangerously close to my butt.
Liam appears next to us, grabs my arm and pulls me out of Ethan’s embrace. His look is conflicted as he pulls me over off into the living room.
“You need to be careful with Ethan,” he says, his voice deep and authoritative.
“Careful of what?” my words slur sligh
tly as they come out and I smile back at Ethan, feeling good.
Liam pulls at the white collar around his neck, “He’s my mate but he’s a complete wanker.”
I look at Liam thoughtfully, my eyes slightly drooping, “I don’t need protecting, Liam. I’m not worth it.” I slur the last bit.
He looks from my eyes to my mouth like he’s torn with what to say next.
“Why would you ever say that?” he asks, looking at me seriously.
Why does he look so serious? Doesn’t he know I just want to have fun? How can he be so serious after drinking so much?
I pat his shoulder reassuringly, “It’s the truth, Liam. Get out while you can.”
I turn to the dining room and shout, “Let’s dance!”
Everyone cheers and breaks away from the table. Some go into the kitchen for more drinks and others head into the living room toward the music dock to pick out more suitable dancing music.
Liam grabs my arm roughly, “Seriously! What the hell, Finley?” he asks, looking for answers. Answers I don’t have. Answers I don’t want to give him because it’s hard enough saying it in my head, let alone out loud.
“Is there a problem here, mate?” Frank interjects, eyeing Liam seriously.
Liam pushes his hand through his hair.
“Course not, Frank. I’m just trying to understand Finley a bit better,” he says.
Frank looks to me, then to Liam.
“I think Finley just wants to have a bit of fun tonight. So let’s do that, shall we? C’mon lad, you can dance with me!”
Frank leads Liam into the living room and Leslie comes up behind me with two cups of punch and hands one over to me.
“Come on! I need you to dance with me and keep me away from Theo!” I laugh, and let her drag me into the living room.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Leslie drags me to the middle of the dance floor and I lose myself in the music for awhile, willing my brain to not think about the vague comment I’d made to Liam. I don’t know why the hell I even said it. Damn Tippy Cup, it really sneaks up on you.
A few songs later, I feel a pair of hands slide around my hips and cinch me up close. I turn my head, grateful to see Liam, and not Ethan. I’m done with the drama. My mom told me to give Liam a chance and all I’ve been doing is pissing him off and testing him. Let’s cut the crap and see where this goes.
I turn around and curl my hands up behind his neck and move with his body. He leans his lips into my neck, kisses me softly, and blows air down my neck and chest. I squirm with the feverish feeling his lips are causing on me.
We continue dancing for a few more songs. Liam ditches his jacket and vicar collar; he looks incredibly handsome in his black shirt and jeans. I rub my hands along his chest and belly. His body feels different than Brody’s. Firmer, more rigid. Brody was physically fit but he wasn’t quite as sculpted as Liam.
Liam moves his lips up to my ear and whispers, “I want to see your room.”
I smile at him, “Okay, Captain Obvious.”
His chest rumbles as he laughs.
“I just want to see if you’re all unpacked.”
I nod and look over to Leslie who is dancing awkwardly with Frank and attempting to stay as far away from Theo as possible. Theo is sitting on the arm of the couch, drinking and brooding by himself. Ethan and James have latched onto Leslie’s coworkers and Mitch and Julie are full-on making out on the dance floor.
I motion to Leslie that I’m taking Liam upstairs and she eyes me cautiously. I nod that I’ll be okay and am grateful we can have a silent conversation around a room full of people.
I lead Liam up the wooden staircase and feel his finger brush the hem of my skirt as we stop on the second floor landing. I swerve around and eye him cautiously.
“Looks like it’s you I should be watching out for, not Ethan,” I say, haughtily.
He shakes his head side to side, “This dress,” he says, placing a hand on my side and slowly moving it down to my thigh. “It’s way too short.”
“Too short for who?” I ask.
“For your father’s approval, I guess. I don’t know. It’s just been hard to watch you walk around in this all evening with everyone’s eyes on you. I should give you a proper talking to,” he says, laughing cheekily as he presses me against the wall.
“A talking to, huh?” I reply. What a lame reply, I can’t think of anything better though when he’s looking at me this way.
He looks down at my lips for a few seconds, then up to my eyes as he leans in and kisses me. My hands are splayed against the wall beside me as his tongue enters my mouth. He strokes his hands down my arms and laces them with my fingers.
This kiss feels a little different than the last one. It’s a good kiss—a steamy kiss. I can tell he’s using the same technique as he did in the skate park, but for whatever reason, all I’m thinking about is Brody kissing Olivia.
I tilt my head and kiss him back harder, desperately willing away thoughts of Brody and Olivia. Liam takes my response positively and presses his body up against mine, his hands roving upward to the sides of my breasts. He feels so good. He feels so strong. But most of all, he feels so different.
I break the kiss quickly and look away, trying to get a grip on my emotions.
Liam turns my face toward him.
“Did I do something wrong?”
I compose myself and shake my head.
“Of course not!” I say, a bit too brightly.
“I feel like you’re somewhere else,” he says, softly, looking down at my chest, but staying close to me.
“Let’s move this upstairs,” I reply without addressing his concern.
He looks sad, but follows me up the next flight anyway. When we come into my room, I walk over to the window to look outside, trying to get as close to a breath of fresh air as I can. Liam walks around my room, inspecting the very few possessions I brought. As I look at it from his perspective, it’s kind of pathetic, really.
On one wall are my clothes and shoes. On the other wall is my laptop and a few books. Then, near the door where a mirror sits are my makeup and toiletry items.
“Where’s all your stuff?” he asks.
“This is it,” I reply.
“No photos of your family…your friends?”
“I guess not.”
“It looks to me like you’re not planning to stay,” he says.
I consider this thought and realize it does appear that way. But that’s most definitely not the case.
I sigh, “I don’t know what I’m planning anymore.”
I kick my shoes off and make my way over to my tiny twin mattress. I grab the blanket and cover my legs because this dress was most definitely not made for sitting.
Liam finishes his perusal of my room and comes over and sits down beside me.
“What was with that comment downstairs?” he asks.
“What comment?”
“When you said you aren’t worth it.”
He looks genuinely concerned and I feel terrible about myself for even bringing it up.
“You don’t want to know all the crap in my life,” I reply.
He reaches over and rubs my hand, playing with my fingers.
“If it involves you, I want to know.”
He looks me in the eye and my eyes start to well with tears. A feeling creeps over me I’ve never felt before. Shame. I feel incredibly shameful right now. I’m ashamed of the way I’m lying to Liam. I’m ashamed of how he’s looking at me like I’m something special and I know I’m not. I’m ashamed of this huge lie I’m living. Just over a month ago, my life was consumed with baby making. How does someone go from trying to have a baby with the love of their life, to getting drunk at parties and making out with guys in stairwells?
I pull my hands away from his and look down to fumble with the purple comforter on my lap. Tears slip from my eyes and fall down onto the blanket.
Liam clears his throat, “Finley. I’m a fixer. Remember?”
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He grabs my hands and I look back up to him.
“I fancy you, Finley. I fancy you a lot. You’re outspoken and funny and smart. I can see this incredibly quiet depth in your eyes that you’re not showing to anyone and I am wracking my brain trying to figure out why.”
We both look down at our entwined hands.
“The fact that you’re knockout gorgeous is like fuel to an open fire.”
I laugh self-deprecatingly and exhale a large sigh.
“But I get a strong feeling you’re not finished unpacking.”
I look up at him and his eyes drop fleetingly to my mouth. Damn it, why can’t I just do this? Why can’t I just dive in with Liam and forget about Brody, and babies, and life?
“I really want to be done,” I speak, finally. “Everyone else seems to be all unpacked.” I offer him this tidbit because I don’t know what else to say right now.
“Does the other person who has supposedly unpacked know how you feel?” he asks.
I shake my head no.
He leans closely into me, forcing me to look him straight in the eyes.
“There is no man on the planet that would willingly unpack you, Finley. If he has, then he’s either an idiot, or he’s operating under false assumptions.”
He lets out a frustrated growl. “Judging by your comments downstairs, my guess is, this bloke doesn’t know all the facts and you are lying to yourself about something big.”
I look at him and wonder if he’s figured out what we’re even talking about.
With that, he jumps up out of the bed and stretches.
“I’m being way too kind right now. If we stay here much longer I’ll convince you I’m the only man on the planet that deserves you.”
I look up at him and smile.
“If there’s a proper bloke out there that’s captured your heart, he’s a lucky bugger; I think you’re intelligent enough to know who’s best for you.”
