Chapter 1 #3
Leave it to Liam to go straight to my looks.
I suppose that’s what I just told myself, though.
I’m a knockout. But what if there’s something deeper that’s wrong with me?
What if I’m putting out some kind of warning sign or pheromone to men that I’m not a good woman to choose?
What if it’s something I can’t even see? Or worse…change.
As petrified as I am to know the answer, now I need to know. “No, I mean…” Turning towards Liam, brows furrowed, and my lips pulled down, I shake my head. “I mean is there something else wrong with me? Do I seem crazy? Do I give off a vibe?”
“Jor.” Facing me, Liam grips my shoulders, the warmth from his calloused hands penetrating my cool skin. “What the hell are you talking about?”
My heart sinks when he answers with a question instead of disagreeing. Casting my eyes downward, my shoulders sag beneath the weight of his hands. Maybe there is something wrong with me.
“Look at me,” he commands in a tone that sparks life inside my belly, my eyes shooting to his. “Tell me what’s going on. Now.”
There’s no disobeying him. The intensity of his stare, the hardness of his jaw, the set line of his lips.
Even if I wanted to deny him an explanation, I couldn’t.
The lightness in his eyes has all but disappeared, turning into a dark expanse of stormy.
My stomach bubbles with something akin to excitement.
Liam looks like he’s ready to take on every god that’s ever been in existence, real or fictional. For me.
“Paul’s getting married,” I blurt out.
The crease between his eyebrows deepens. “Douchebag Paul? I thought we were over him.”
“We are. I mean, I am.” We? My stomach really needs to stop fluttering. Sucking in a sharp breath, I flail a hand between us. “It’s not about being over him. It’s…”
Liam has been a rock for me ever since Paul and I broke up.
The nights he’s spent at the bar by my side, drinking and listening to me, are countless.
He’s self-proclaimed horrible with relationships and feelings, and while that might be the case for everyone else, he’s never been anything but attentive to me.
He’s made it easy to open up about everything.
Yet, in this moment, I feel entirely exposed and vulnerable on a level I don’t understand.
My eyes fall to the floor again, and I sigh, my shoulders drooping lower. “We were together for five years. Seven months after we break up he’s getting married? What does that say about me?”
Rough fingers grab my chin and yank it up, causing me to gasp. Liam’s eyes are alight with fire.
“It says you dodged a goddamn bullet, that’s what it says,” he declares fiercely. “There is nothing wrong with you. You are perfect, you hear me? Absolutely fucking perfect.”
Heat blossoms through my entire body. Liam has said, done, and flirted a lot in the last few months, but I don’t know that he’s ever been so blatant with how he views me. Even if his view is skewed.
I don’t know what to say to him. I don’t know how to handle this Liam. His body vibrates so close to mine, like he’s ready to be violent with the first person who looks at him—or me—the wrong way. But besides the initial jerk of my chin, his grip on my face is gentle, contradicting the rest of him.
“There isn’t a damn thing you need to change, Jordan.” Finally his eyes release mine as he glances down to my lips. “If I were allowed, I’d spend an entire night showing you just how fucking perfect I think you are.”
Swallowing hard, I search desperately for words.
To say something, anything, but he’s successfully left me tongue tied on the outside, and feeling like a pile of goo on the inside.
My world is spinning, and I’m left wondering if the shot we did was actually tequila, or if it was pure absinthe, causing me to hallucinate.
“Hell,” he pauses, taking one step closer to me until our bodies are nearly touching. When his eyes lift back to mine, they’re darker than I’ve ever seen them. “For you I’d break all the rules and spend multiple nights showing you.”
Liam doesn’t do relationships. Liam is the kind of guy that does one-night stands only. I couldn’t swear to it, but I’m certain he’s never even done a two-night stand. And now he’s talking about multiple nights with me?
My heart is racing a mile a minute. I need to calm down and breathe.
The only reason he’s even saying these things is because he knows damn well nothing will ever happen between us.
Nothing can ever happen. Because one of the most important people to both of us forbids it, and we respect the hell out of the man.
The pressure at my jaw increases. “Be my good Little Fireball and tell me you heard me.” When I only nod, he shakes his head. His next words are a growl that has goosebumps rising on every inch of my skin. “With words, Jordan.”
“I—I heard you,” I stumble, licking my lips to wet them.
For a brief moment I think he’s about to kiss me when he leans in, but then his lips are at my ear. A shiver runs down the length of my spine when he whispers, “Good girl.”
Then, as though it never happened, he’s looking across the bar, flagging down the bartender to order a beer. Leaving me standing there blinking at him, wondering if the old adage about Vegas is true.
What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.