Chapter 24 – Liam
24
LIAM
I spot her from across the bar where I am playing pool with the guys. What I don’t expect to see is her walking in with Melanie. I was kicking myself after I recommended Local to her because I knew Melanie went there. My fear was that Melanie would be nasty to her, not befriend her. Melanie is going to ruin this for me, if she hasn’t already. It’s eating at me, and I’m distracted.
“What’s with you, man?” Danny nudges me as we finish the pool game with a loss to Jack and Miles. “You’re out of it.”
I drain my coke, but don’t meet his eyes. I can’t take my eyes off Sophie. I made the right decision to stay sober tonight because I feel a protective urge to get her away from Melanie immediately. “I’m cool. I’m cool. Let’s get another drink.”
“Hey, is that Sophie over there with the girls?” Miles drops his cue in Jack’s hand and makes his way to the corner of the bar, not bothering to wait for a response. My “wingman” has my blood boiling.
“With Melanie?” Jack raises his eyebrows. “That looks like trouble.”
We all follow Miles over to the corner of the bar. Sophie is already looking relaxed, and she is smiling while talking to the ladies, but when she sees Miles her face really lights up. He puts his arm around her, and she gazes up at him.
“Is this the beautiful girl I danced with last Saturday night?” Miles’ boisterous voice echoes through our corner of the bar. Sophie laughs and eyes me cautiously as I approach.
“I hope you’re ready for some more dances,” Miles adds.
Sophie doesn’t respond to Miles directly, but she picks up her drink and drains it in one sip, watching me the entire time.
I am working hard to control the expression on my face to not give away my change in mood. I lean down over Melanie and whisper in her ear. “What are you doing?” I make sure my tone reflects my suspicion about her motives.
She looks back at me, teasing eyes glowing in the bar light. “Whatever do you mean?” She laughs and waves the bartender over. He comes quickly. “Bobby, can we please get eight shots of tequila?”
“Seven,” I correct. “I’m not drinking.” Melanie and Sophie simultaneously whirl around and look at me when they hear me say that.
“Seven shots of tequila, coming right up.” Bobby jets to the other side of the bar.
I take a breath and turn around to face the wall. Running my fingers through my stubble, I’m trying to get a hold of myself—but I am seething. Melanie knew exactly what she was doing, bringing Sophie here and introducing her to our group of friends. She’s making it so if I ever wanted anything romantic with Sophie, it would be impossible to achieve because of their friendship. I hear Sophie laughing at Miles’ stupid jokes behind me. He grabs my shoulder.
“Yo man, since you aren’t taking a shot, take a picture of us,” Miles thrusts his phone in my palm.
It takes everything in me not to growl at him. They all clink their glasses together and I snap the photo. Everyone puts their shot glasses on the bar, just as the band starts playing “Mr. Brightside” by The Killers.
“Let’s go dance!” Kristen shouts and all the girls get up and beeline toward the stage. I’m trying to tell myself to relax and have a good time, but Miles’ obvious interest in Sophie is making it nearly impossible. I need to get her alone before he does. I have never wanted a drink so bad. I wave Bobby down and ask him for water instead. He’s quick about it, and I down it before heading up to the front of the stage to join my friends. I stay far away from Melanie and stand right next to Miles who is dancing behind Sophie. I’ve known Miles my entire life but for the first time in thirty years, I want to punch him in the face.
“Miles, I thought I was your wingman.” I elbow him just as he puts his hand on Sophie’s waist.
“You are , my dude,” Miles laughs. “I gotta take a leak.” He walks away and I take this as an opportunity to stand in his place.
I step behind Sophie, leaning down to whisper in her ear. I can’t ignore the blush creeping up her neck or her obvious physical reaction. “Stay away from Miles, Sophie. He’s no good for you,” I murmur, my breath lingering on her neck a moment too long.
Sophie remains perfectly still but cups her hand over her mouth and says, “Why? Are you jealous, Liam?” The way she says my name is riddled with tension.
I feel my desire grow against her backside, and I am certain she can feel it too. I’m standing too close to her, and it’s doing things to me that both scare and thrill me. I can’t hold back. “Maybe,” I whisper in her ear. It’s this remark that has her turning and meeting my gaze. Her cheeks are flushed. Either she is turned on too, or she’s mad. I can’t tell which.
“I need a drink,” she says and pushes away from me. I don’t follow her. I am trying not to draw attention to the fact that I am raging with jealousy and want. If Sophie hooks up with Miles, I will lose my mind. I know there is something between us, and if she hooks up with him, we’ll never get to figure it out.
I give it a few minutes before I walk over to her. She’s still alone at the bar waiting for Bobby to bring her drink. I flag him down and then go stand next to her.
“Here you go, pretty lady.” He smiles, placing another margarita in front of her. “Liam?”
“Just water. Thanks, man,” I say. I lean next to her waiting for her to speak.
When Bobby walks away, she turns to me and says, “What the hell was that?” Ok, she’s definitely mad.
“I just… I don’t want you to hook up with Miles,” I tell her. Honesty is the best policy.
“I’m just having fun.” She throws her arms up dramatically. “I am getting divorced. It feels like I haven’t had fun in years,” she huffs.
“Just…not Miles. He’s not going to be good for you.” I let my forearm graze hers and we both look at each other when we feel it. That electric charge that is growing between us with each passing moment.
Sophie seems to ignore it. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Liam. I want to have sex.” She pushes off the bar and wobbles. I grip her arm to steady her and our eyes lock. She’s had too much to drink.
I pass my water to her. “Maybe it’s time you have this instead.”
She glares at me indignantly. Then she lets out a defeated sigh and takes a sip of the water.
“I don’t want to see you do something you will regret later,” I tell her sincerely.
She narrows her eyes. “I think you’re just jealous.” She leans forward on the bar and takes another long sip of water. I glance at my watch. It’s only 10:30 p.m. If we stay here, there’s plenty of time left for Miles to pursue her, and by the way she is talking, he may just succeed.
Miles is my buddy and has been since third grade…but I saw his divorce. I know how nasty it was. His ex-wife was a transplant who moved here for him and had no friends or life of her own. That divorce broke both of them, but from the outside looking in, Miles wasn’t exactly compassionate. She moved home to be near her family, and I can’t help but think she’s better off.
“I already told you, I am.” I let my fingers graze her arm and she reacts by touching my hand. Our eyes meet and for a minute, all I can think about is kissing her. I want to grab her face and ravish her mouth with that stupid pink lip gloss. I want to taste her cool margarita flavored tongue and feel her hands moving up my back and under my shirt.
She sighs. “Can you take me home? I think I’ve had enough.” She lets go of my hand and throws some cash on the bar.
“Sure. Go wait outside while I close the tab.” I gesture toward the side door. “I’ll tell everyone you aren’t feeling well.”
She gives me a rueful half-smile and walks toward the door. I wish I was taking her home to my bed, but I am just glad to be taking her away from Miles.
* * *
It’s a Saturday night at the height of spring, so we have to wait about ten minutes for an Uber. Sophie is pacing around outside in the front of the bar, hugging herself and ignoring me. I should have just driven tonight but I didn’t make up my mind about not drinking until I got here. I can tell by the way she’s walking that Sophie has had more than she realized and her furrowed brow tells me she is upset with herself. She looks my way, glaring angrily. Or me. Maybe she’s upset with me.
“What is going on here, Liam?” she antagonizes me, as if she’s looking for a fight.
“What are you talking about?” I play dumb. I know what she’s talking about. I let my hands linger a little too long more than once tonight. I told her I was jealous. But now, I am standing way over here. I am giving her mixed signals because I am trying to avoid the inevitability of falling into bed with her and thus making everything weird.
“You couldn’t just let us all hang out and drink and be carefree? Why are you so worried about what I’m doing? I wanted to have a good time tonight, but you have to march in and save the day in your big stupid macho way that makes me nervous and infuriates me at the same time.” She exhales deeply and drops her arms, then she continues pacing.
I swallow what I really want to say about how much I want her and instead say, “Okay, Sophie. I can see that you’ve had a lot to drink, and I know you’re in a vulnerable spot right now. Sure, I don’t know the details surrounding your divorce, but I don’t want you to make a mistake.” I plop down on the bench in front of the bar just as “I Want You to Want Me” starts playing. The timing is impeccable. “And yes. It made me jealous because I would hope if there was anyone in there that you’d have danced with like that, it would’ve been me. There, I said it. Okay?”
Our Uber pulls up then and I gesture toward the car before she can speak. I let her slide in first and I get in behind her. Both of our hands rest on the middle seat. Neither one of us is speaking so instead of making the situation worse, I put my head back and close my eyes. A moment later, Sophie’s hand grazes my pinkie finger. I pick my head up and meet her gaze. I want her so bad. I’m inches away from tangling my fingers in her hair and tasting that last margarita she drank , but I can’t and I know I can’t for all of the reasons I just gave her about Miles. I can’t say I am looking out for her vulnerability with my buddy and then go and do the same thing he was trying to do, no matter how much I want her. Especially not when she’s drunk and I’m sober. But maybe I could hold her hand. I lace my fingers through hers, and she doesn’t pull away.
She’s looking at me with a longing that I haven’t ever seen from her. Her breath quickens, matching the pounding of my pulse in my chest. Sophie wants me. Her eyes lock with mine and I see the same desire in them that I feel low in my gut, which makes it harder to resist. I want to give in to this careful control, but something inside me says no, not yet so, I keep holding her hand. I pick it up and trace my thumb around her palm. I see goosebumps rise on her biceps, and I know she is feeling the same tingling in her body that I am. My erection grows beneath my jeans, and I am grateful for a dark back seat and the twelve inches of space between us. But I keep holding her hand because I don’t know if there will be another chance to.
The car pulls up in front of our houses and I open my door, slide out, and pull her out behind me. The driver leaves us facing each other on the sidewalk. Sophie steps closer to me and runs her hands up my forearms. “Liam,” she whimpers my name, prompting me to meet her eyes. She moves her hands to my chest and pulls me down to her so our foreheads are touching. She’s practically begging me to take her upstairs. She moves one hand to my cheek and strokes my beard. “Liam,” she says again, more forcefully, willing me to feel what she feels. “I know you feel what I feel,” she whispers, glancing down at our hips flush together. Caught.
I feel it too, the electricity between us, but I will not be the next person who hurts her. Sophie is too good for me.
“Sophie,” I breathe, pressing my forehead harder into hers. “I can’t.”
At these words she drops her hands and backs away from me, her jaw open in shock, embarrassment, I can’t say for sure. She covers her own face and lets out a cry that makes my heart ache and then she turns and runs into the house.
I should get a fucking medal for that.
I groan and trudge up the steps and pull out my phone. There’s a single text in my Perry Street Boys group chat. I open it.
Miles: You fucking cockblock.