3. Liam
CHAPTER 3
liam
Sundays are spent at my parents’ house for mandatory family dinners. We’ve been doing it since we were kids, and as we all trickled out of the house to live on our own, my mom made it a very strict rule that every Sunday is the day dedicated to each other. She may be a sweet little thing, but she’s fierce, and none of us want to cross her. My mood only got worse as the week went on. Sitting on this information and keeping it from Hannah is eating me alive. But I can’t bring myself to tell her yet. Every time I think the time is right, I fucking panic. I don’t know how to help her through this mess, and it’s eating me alive.
My tires crunch over the packed snow as I pull around the back of Bean Haven to pick Hannah and Charlie up for dinner. She’s so in tune that I know she feels my anxiety, but no matter how hard she pushes, I’m just not ready to talk and blow her life to pieces, at least not until I can find a way to help her first.
Before I even put my truck in park, my phone starts to vibrate from the console next to me, going off with rapid-fire text messages that can be from none other than my sibling group chat. Groaning, I pick up the phone and unlock it, and sure as shit, the assholes are rambling.
Carter: Who’s going to dinner?
Kins: Uh? All of us?
Dallas: Wait, since when do we have a choice?
Sawyer: You don’t, dickhead.
Dallas: Sounds like we do…
Carter: Wait, is dinner mandatory?
Kins: Oh for fuck’s sake
Sawyer: You’ve been in this family your entire life, wtf do you mean is it mandatory?
Dallas: Someone smack this idiot
Me: What do you think you’ve been doing all these years?
Carter: Have you fuckers been tasting Mom’s food? I wouldn’t miss that shit. I go for her food. I thought you all were doing the same
Kins: Holy shit
Sawyer: Are you fucking with us right now?
Carter: Yup. Sad how stupid you assholes think I am. Who is everyone bringing?
Sawyer: Holy fuck. Lose my number will you, lover boy?
Me: I don’t think I’m actually related to any of you
Kins: Hey! Rude!
Dallas: You’re not. Didn’t Mom tell you? Why do you think we’re so close in age?
We’re all so close in age because my damn father couldn’t keep his filthy paws off of our perfect saint of a mother. Poor thing spent nine months pregnant with spawn one and two, then immediately got pregnant with me, and then Carter not long after I was born. She’s had her hands full, and hell, the four of us boys didn’t make it easy on her. We still don’t. Kinsey was a complete surprise and has been an angel since the day she was born.
Me: *Middle finger emoji*
Done with this conversation, I slam the door of my truck, leaving it running to keep it warm, and jog up the stairs to the second-story door that leads to Hannah’s apartment, knocking twice before opening it. Not wanting to take off my boots, I lean into the doorway before shouting.
“Han! I’m here. Ready when you two are!”
The pitter-patter of little feet hits my ears before I see her. Barreling around the corner dressed in fleece leggings with a long sleeve dress, comes Charlie, flying at me with a hairbrush in her hand.
“Munchkin!” I yell as she launches herself into my waiting arms. I scoop her up, standing to my full height and bringing her outside with me, my nerves and anger settling instantly.
“Mumma was right. It’s freezing today!” she squeals and shivers in my arms.
“It’s a cold one. But we love the cold, don’t we?”
“Yes! Will you do my hair? I want braids but Mumma said we don’t have time.”
“We always have time for braids.”
Kicking off my boots, I step into the kitchen and set Charlie’s feet back on the tiled floor.
I sit on the ground and take the hairbrush from her hands as she settles in front of me.
“One braid or two?”
“TWO! It’s Sunday, so it’s safe to wear two. Pigtail braids are my favorite,” she says, her little three-year-old voice laced with a bit of sadness instead of her usual excitement.
“Is it not safe to wear pigtail braids on other days?”
“Julian said my braids are stupid.”
Oh hell no. Just like that, I’ve got beef with a four-year-old. Julian is stupid. Her braids are perfect. Julian is a little jerk face, and I hope I run into his dad one of these days. I finish up one braid before turning her around to face me.
“Charlotte Sidney. Repeat after me. I am strong.”
“I am strong.”
“I am smart.”
“I am smart. ”
“I am brave.”
“I am brave.”
“I am beautiful.”
“I am beautiful.”
“My braids are not stupid.”
“But Julian said . . .”
“It doesn’t matter what Julian said. It matters what you think. Do you like your braids?”
“I love my braids.”
“Then say it. My braids are not stupid.”
“My braids are not stupid.”
“Good. Now let’s get this one done so we can hit the road. Where’s your momma?”
I turn her back around and get started brushing through her thick, dark-blonde hair and separating it into three pieces, the natural highlights popping as I cross over the strands.
“She’s getting dressed. She had chocolate all over her. I think she got messy downstairs, ’cause she had it allllllllll over her.”
I laugh while finishing up the last wrap of elastic on the end of Charlie’s hair.
“Okay, munchkin, grab your shoes, put them on please, and I’ll be right back so we can hit the road.”
“Tell her to hurry! I want to see Pappy!”
Leaving Charlie in the kitchen, I walk through the little apartment until I reach Hannah’s room. The door is open, so I creep up to it, my socks on the floor quieting each of my steps. Hannah and I have been jump-scaring each other our entire lives, and neither of us gets sick of seeing the other rattled.
As I move into the doorway, I stop in my tracks. Mission aborted. Hannah is standing in front of her full-length mirror in nothing but a strappy thong and matching bra. The breath leaves my lungs as my eyes take in her flawless body. I reach up and brace my hands against the top of the door frame, my nails digging into the wood to hold myself back from crawling across the damn floor with my tongue lolling out of my mouth and begging at her feet to worship her body like she deserves.
My eyes roam up her toned legs and stop at the swell of her perfect ass. I stand there shocked as hell, staring straight at her curves like a man seeing water after wandering a barren desert. I bite my bottom lip to hold back the groan that wants to break free. Fuck if I don’t want to squeeze that ass between my palms, feel her smooth skin under my rough, calloused hands. I’m desperate to bend her over the bed and bury my face between her legs, devouring her pussy from behind. God, she’s so damn sexy. My cock rapidly hardens behind my jeans, throbbing against the zipper, reminding me how desperate I am to feel her sheathed tightly around me.
My eyes trail over her body, taking in the floral tattoo that hugs her right hip, dipping into her trim waist and rising higher before disappearing under her breast. My eyes glance in the mirror, finding hers already on mine, a shit-eating grin plastered to her pretty face.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” she teases, having no idea the effect she just had on me.
“Don’t tempt me, beauty. You are fine as hell.”
“Shut up, bear. Now quit staring at my ass and let me get dressed. Seriously, you know it’s time for you to go out and get laid if you’re ogling me of all people.”
If she only fucking knew. Her half naked body just went into my permanent spank bank to imagine while I beat off later. No one has ever, nor could they ever, compare to her.
Walking into my parents’ house, I’m tense, and although my irritation has simmered, I know that spending a meal with my siblings is not what I need right now when I should be taking Hannah back home and explaining everything that I learned. I wasn’t about to tell her before we left and no doubt ruin the night. Even if I know it’s all bullshit and that I’m finding every excuse I can to not break her heart.
Hannah and I haven’t kept things from each other before, so keeping this is causing me a foreign type of pain in my chest that makes me constantly uncomfortable. I’m irritable, grouchy, and two seconds away from losing my shit. Maybe I should have taken out my anger on Levi’s face.
“Hello, my darlings!” my mom yells from the kitchen as the three of us arrive, the house quieter than normal given all the cars in the driveway.
“Hey, Mom,” I say as I lean in and kiss her head before moving to the fridge to pull out a cold beer.
“Hi, Momma Amy. You need anything?”
“Hi, Mimi! Can I go find Pappy?”
“Hi, my sweet Miss Charlotte. Yes, he’s in the living room watching the hockey game.”
“The Kraken are playing?”
“Yes! Go give them good luck!”
“I’m going to go join them. Let’s see if we keep up this winning streak.”
Hannah follows Charlie to go see my dad, and I head downstairs to find my siblings. The boys and I work together at our family-owned-and-operated distillery. I love them all, but we spend way too much damn time together, and there are no boundaries in our lives. We’ve all got unfiltered access to each other, and a group chat that’s constantly going off—basically, we’re all nosey as shit.
“Hey, fuckers.”
“What up little brother?”
“Fuck off, Sawyer,” I say as I flip him off, putting my hand directly into his face. He smacks it out of the way, and I keep walking, taking long pulls from my beer and heading toward my sister.
“Hey, sweet sister. How are you?”
“Hey, big brother. I’m freaking amazing. You doing okay?”
“Just fuckin’ dandy,” I say, a hint patronizingly. Life fucking sucks right now.
“How about some ping pong?” Carter suggests.
Little competition sounds like a good enough stress reliever.
“Let’s make it beer pong, make it interesting.”
“Fine, but you’re cleaning up the mess, ’cause last time Mom was pissed.”
“Dude, she wasn’t pissed about the beer pong, she was pissed you puked all over her braided rug,” I remind him.
My brothers and I work together to set up the solo cups, filling them with beer, and splitting into teams. Dallas and I on one side, Carter and Sawyer on the other, and the game begins.
The balls get lobbed into cups, and after a few rounds, I realize that Dallas is throwing the game, distracted as all fuck, and Sawyer and Carter aren’t missing a damn toss, causing me to have to drink. So much for being a stress reliever. My asshole brothers are just pissing me off more.
I try to let my shit mood go and enjoy myself, but it’s difficult. I feel the moment Hannah walks downstairs, joining Kinsey, Ivy, and Blaire behind us, and my irritation over the situation increases tenfold. Fuck all of this shit happening to her.
“Drink up, motherfucker!” Carter yells as his ball slams into another cup.
I flip them all off, knowing they were all teaming up on me and purposefully doing some shady shit.
“Fuck off! You’re a bunch of goddamn cheaters!” I yell over my shoulder, walking away from the assholes.
“How can you cheat at fuckin’ beer pong, lint licker?” Dallas yells back.
I try to tamp my frustration with my dickhead brother and join Hannah, Ivy, and Blaire off to the side. Ivy just married my older brother, Sawyer. They were childhood sweethearts until Ivy up and ran away, staying hidden for ten years. She only just returned last September, and they haven’t been apart since. He knocked her up and married her so fast our heads spun. They’re definitely making up for lost time. Something I wish I could do with Hannah.
“They’re cheats, huh?” Ivy asks.
“They’re assholes. All of them.”
“But, lint licker?” Blaire, our newest Aspen Ridge Distillery employee, asks. She works as our new event coordinator. She’s pretty damn smart-mouthed and makes us all laugh. Drives our brother Dallas insane, which cements her as irreplaceable at work, in my opinion.
Ivy covers her mouth and laughs as Sawyer walks up to her. He grabs her wrist and pulls it away from her face while saying something to her that I don’t catch. The two of them live in their own little world now, and that’s fine. We’re all happy to have Ivy back in our lives and our brother finally happy again.
“That’s Liam’s nickname. You haven’t heard it yet?” Sawyer answers the question I was dodging. I fucking hate this nickname. My brothers are such assholes and I’m not in the mood for this shit right now.
“Apparently not, how did he get such an awful one? No offense to you and the other two, but Liam’s the most levelheaded one out of all of you, so how does he end up with the worst nickname?”
“Cause they’re all assholes and they don’t like that I’m bigger than them,” I tell Blaire, interjecting the question she posed to Sawyer. Fuck if I’m going to stand here and let him drag me through some more shit.
“Size doesn’t mean shit. How many times have I taken you? I’m happy to do it again right here.”
Finally, something tangible that I can take my frustration out on. My brothers and I have been boxing together since I was a preteen. We’ve always been extremely physical when it comes to dealing with issues, and after one good fight between my older brothers, our dad put us all in weekly boxing lessons at Knockout, run by a former professional Russian boxing champion. Sawyer practices all sorts of other shit too—Krav Maga, and MMA—and I swear he would have tried to go pro if the distillery hadn’t called us all to run the family business. I box with them since it’s all I know, but I prefer to weightlift, which puts me at an advantage when fighting these dicks.
I step into Sawyer’s space, we’re about the same height, so we’re looking eye to eye. I’ve got him in weight and muscle, but I know he’s ruthless in the ring and not to be underestimated. Good thing we’re in our parents’ basement and the rules don’t apply here.
Out of my peripheral, I see all the women take large steps back, my brother Dallas stepping to stand between them and whatever’s about to go down between me and shithead here.
“What the fuck is your problem lately? You got some shit you need to work out, then you let us know, but we’re not here to be treated like shit by you, so what’s it goin’ to fuckin’ be?” Sawyer raises his voice directly in my face, which pisses me off more. Rage bubbles to the surface, not allowing me to back down.
Fuck this shit.
I jerk forward with my fist posed to clock him in the jaw, but I hold it back, just wanting to challenge him. Sawyer takes the bait, tackling me, bending down like a fucking linebacker, his arms wrapping around my waist and moving me back a few steps. The momentum causes my body to lean forward over his shoulder, but I use it to my advantage, throwing a punch into the soft part of his side, under his ribs.
“Get it out of your system, little brother,” Sawyer grunts out as I connect two more punches to his stomach.
“Fuck you!” I yell.
We grapple with each other until we end up on the hard floor. Sawyer doesn’t throw any punches, just holds me in close and braces for each of my hits. It pisses me off even more.
“Fight back, shithead! We all know you love a good fight!”
“Not when you’re clearly working through something. So hit me if you have to, but get it the fuck out so you’re dealing with it with a level head!”
“Fuck,” I jerk out of his hold around my neck, shoving him hard.
“You gonna talk or continue to take it out on me? Do what you gotta do.”
Straightening, I pick up my hat from where it fell on the floor and run my hand through my hair, pacing in front of Sawyer. I look behind me up the stairs where the women retreated while we fought, to make sure no one is nearby who could potentially hear me before talking, but decide I don’t want to do this shit here.
“I’m done. I don’t want to talk about it.” I shoot Dallas a hard glare when he goes to open his big mouth. This isn’t the time nor the place, and I don’t want to spread Hannah’s business before she even knows about it.
“Let’s just get through dinner so I can get home. I’ll deal with my shit.”
“You know we’re here for you, right?” Sawyer reminds me.
“Yeah, I know. Just, some things need to be handled alone.”
I’m not going to be able to lean on my family to help with this one.