Chapter 18
Chapter eighteen
Sam
The Taproom buzzed with Friday night energy: music thrummed beneath the hum of conversation, glasses clinked, and bursts of laughter rose above it all. It was the kind of night that felt easy, like slipping into something familiar.
If only I actually felt that ease.
I sat at the bar with Callie, Renzo, and Liam, nursing my second whiskey neat and trying to drown out the ongoing battle between Callie and Renzo over pop diva supremacy.
“I don’t care what you say,” Renzo argued, hands animated as he leaned in. “Mariah Carey has the range. The receipts. The accolades. There’s no competition.”
Callie rolled their eyes so hard I thought they might actually see the inside of their skull. “Oh my god. What would a straight man know about gay divas?”
Renzo laughed. “Hey, I may be straight, but I’ve spent more time with The Immaculate Collection and The Bodyguard Soundtrack than most of your exes combined.”
Callie gasped. “Homophobic.”
Renzo laughed. “Disagreeing with you isn’t a hate crime, Cal.”
“You picked Mariah over Madonna. In this bar?”
“Blasphemy,” Liam chimed in, sipping his bourbon.
“Oh, don’t encourage them,” Renzo groaned.
Liam held up a finger. “Okay, but you’re both wrong.”
Callie turned on him instantly, eyes narrowing. “Oh do enlighten us, Carter.”
Liam spread his arms as if the answer were obvious. “Lady Gaga.”
Renzo groaned again. “Predictable.”
Callie scoffed. “A solid contender, but let’s be real. She wouldn’t be here without Madonna either.”
Liam placed a dramatic hand over his heart. “That may be technically true, but she took pop music and turned it into art.”
Renzo waved a dismissive hand. “Yeah, yeah. Meat dress. We get it.”
Liam grinned. “And what about Britney? Tell me no one else in this conversation has given us the kind of cultural moments she has.”
Callie snorted. “Oh please, Britney is an icon, but—”
Renzo cut in. “She’s no Stevie Nicks.”
Callie groaned. “Okay, grandpa.”
Renzo shrugged, unapologetic. “Look, if I’m stranded on a desert island and I only get one playlist, it’s going to have Stevie, Freddie Mercury, and Carole King. Sue me.”
Liam laughed. “Classic rock. The gayest straight man alive.”
Renzo raised his glass. “I’ll take that title proudly.”
Then he turned to me, suddenly pointing a finger. “Okay, we have to know. Sam, who’s your diva?”
I raised both hands in immediate surrender. “Nope. Absolutely not.”
Callie huffed. “Oh come on.”
“I refuse,” I said, shaking my head. “I will not be dragged into this bloodbath.”
Renzo gasped in mock horror. “Coward.”
“I prefer smart, thanks.”
Liam chuckled beside me, the sound low and warm, and for a moment, it felt normal again. The way it used to.
Then Callie suddenly perked up, setting their empty glass on the bar. “Okay, I need a refill, and I need to pee. Renzo, come be my bodyguard.”
Renzo chuckled. “I was just about to get another drink.”
“Then multitask,” Callie said, grabbing his wrist and dragging him away before he could protest further.
And just like that, I was alone with Liam.
The bar noise faded to background static, the hum of conversation, the distant clinking of ice, the bass of whatever song was playing vibrating through the floors.
But all I could focus on was the weight of him beside me: broad shoulders, the heat of his skin so damn close, and the fragrance of his cologne cutting through the hazy air.
I traced a finger absently along the rim of my glass, willing myself to stay relaxed.
Liam shifted slightly, like he was about to say something, but then hesitated, swirling his drink instead.
I didn’t have the patience for this.
“Spit it out,” I blurted, not looking at him.
Liam let out a laugh, but it wasn’t harsh like usual. It was softer, a little uneven. “Didn’t realize I looked like I had something to say.”
“You do.”
A beat.
Then, “About the other night.”
I tensed, fingers stilling against my glass.
I forced myself to roll my shoulders, keeping my expression neutral. “Which one?”
Liam snorted, shaking his head. “Sam.”
I sighed, swirling my drink again, avoiding his eyes. “Look, I don’t know what the fuck that was, but if you’re—”
“I wasn’t trying to rub anything in your face.”
That made me pause.
I glanced up, finding his look already on me.
My throat felt tight.
I scoffed lightly, bringing my whiskey to my lips, letting the burn smooth out my voice. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
Liam didn’t buy it.
He leaned in slightly, elbows resting on the bar. “Are we good?”
A simple question.
One that carried a weight I wasn’t sure I was ready to unpack, but felt like it desperately needed to be.
I let out a slow breath. “We’re fine, Carter.”
His eyes searched mine like he didn’t quite believe me. Like he wasn’t going to push, but wasn’t letting it go either.
The space between us was too heavy.
Too full of things needing to be said.
I lifted my glass to my lips, taking a slow sip before setting it back down. “I just… ” I hesitated. “I don’t wanna make things weird.”
Liam sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Then let’s not.”
I scoffed. “That easy, huh?”
His lips twitched. “Could be.”
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe we could just will this away, pretend like it hadn’t happened. But Cedar Hollow, the kiss, the tension that had been building for months, it was still there.
I felt it.
And Liam… he wasn’t exactly acting like he didn’t feel it, too.
Liam leaned back and tapped his knuckles against the bar. “Another?”
I hesitated for half a second.
Then, nodding, I affirmed, “Yeah.”
Liam slid off his stool. “I got it. Be right back.”
As he walked toward the other end of the bar to get the bartender’s attention, my gaze followed without thinking: broad shoulders, the way his shirt stretched across his back, that round ass, the confidence in the way he moved. I exhaled, shaking myself out of it.
This is fine.
Everything is fine.
And if I kept telling myself that, maybe I’d start to believe it.
And then—
“Why do you look like you’re about to combust, darling?”
I startled slightly before turning to see Maxie Glam, in all her six-foot-four, heavily contoured glory, sneering down at me like she knew all my secrets.
“Jesus,” I gasped, pressing a hand to my chest. “You always sneak up on people like that?”
Maxie perched a manicured hand on her hip. “Only the ones who look this conflicted about their personal crises.”
I shot her a look. “It’s not a crisis.”
She arched her brow. “Mmmhmm.” Then, turning a glance toward the bar, her sneer deepened. “So… you and Liam?”
I nearly choked on my whiskey. “What?”
She shrugged, examining her nails. “Oh, honey. You think I haven’t seen it? The lingering looks, the tension, the fact that he’s bringing you drinks without you having to ask? That kiss…” She tsked. “That man is whipped. And you? You’ve got no idea what to do with it.”
I clenched my jaw. “We’re friends, Maxie.”
Her smile was slow. “Oh, sure, sweetheart.”
Before I could argue, Callie and Renzo returned, still in the throes of their pop diva debate.
“I’m just saying,” Callie declared, sliding back onto their stool, “Madonna is pop music.”
Maxie scoffed dramatically. “Alright, children, you need an education.” She grabbed her martini, swirling it before taking a dramatic sip. “There is only one supreme queen of pop, and her name is Cher.”
Callie gasped. “Okay, valid.”
Renzo put a hand over his heart. “You make a strong case.”
Liam returned just in time, setting my whiskey down in front of me, his thigh pressing against mine again as he took his seat.
I could move.
I should move.
But I stayed right where I was.
Maxie watched me closely before leaning into my ear, “Best friends make the best lovers.” She backed up and smiled at me. “I’ll leave you to it, darling. But I will be getting an update soon.” She winked at Liam, then sauntered off into the crowd.
Liam watched her go, lips twitching. “What was that about?”
I took a slow sip of my whiskey. “Nothing.”
Callie and Renzo, still deep in their Cher-induced revelation, were too distracted to catch the moment.
Liam turned back to me, his thigh still pressed against mine.
And for the first time tonight, I relaxed.
I took a slow breath, then let it go, finally meeting Renzo’s expectant stare.
And, before I could second-guess myself, I shrugged. “Fine. If I have to choose…”
Callie perked up instantly. “Yes?”
I huffed out a breath. “Shania Twain.”
Callie actually cheered.
Renzo threw his arms up. “I knew I liked you.”
Liam laughed, shaking his head, nudging me lightly with his shoulder. “Welcome to the party, sweetheart.”
And, for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself be there.
Let myself enjoy the conversation.
Let myself forget, just for a little while, the mess still brewing beneath it all.