45. EMERSON
45
EMERSON
Now
I think wedding planning has officially gone to Blake’s head. Not that it hasn’t already. Two weeks ago, she set me up on a blind date with one of Ben’s groomsmen, Alec.
Well-dressed. Crewcut blond hair. Sharp bone structure. Complete finance bro.
It went fine.
We’ve been on three dates. Correction: tonight is our third, I suppose.
Our first was happy hour with Blake and Ben. I’m not sure if that counts as a date, but for my purpose here, it does. Then, after work, we went on a walk to a small farmer’s market. We grabbed dinner before the night was over. That’s two.
Tonight he’s coming out with my friends and me for my birthday.
Blake was being Blake setting us up and we both knew it. “Well, if you were attending the wedding, you’d probably go home with someone because you’re hot and single. But now you’re working on it. I thought if I set you up now, it wouldn’t be weird if you went home with him that night.” That was her reasoning.
She continued to inform me that I had this weird sexual tension going on about me and needed to get laid to fix it. A sexless bitch is what I believe she called me.
The next day, Blake asked me to grab drinks with her after work, bombarding me with Alec when I sat down.
She also slipped up about my birthday plans, and now he’s here .
We walk into the club together. His hand is on my lower back as we locate my friends and make our way to them.
Sitting in a section toward the back, opposite the bar and dance floor, are Chloe, Natalie, Blake, Ben, a few other acquaintances, Callum, and Liam.
I didn’t invite Liam. I invited Cal because we are friends, and I knew he’d bring Liam.
Liam’s eyes find mine as Alec and I walk up to everyone. He fixes his gaze on where Alec’s hand is touching me and I see his nose flare and jaw clench.
“This is Alec.” I glance up at him with a fake grin. “You know Ben and Blake. This is Chloe. . .” I introduce Alec to everyone with their name and how I know them. At the end of the couch, the last is Liam. “. . . and this is Liam. We—”
I can feel the heated gazes of my two best friends, Cal and his, as they all wait for what I will say.
“Should be together,” he cuts in.
***
I remove myself from the group when everyone is distracted with drinks or dancing. I catch Liam’s eyes before I walk to the stairs.
The club is two stories. The upstairs is far quieter than the lower level. The music and energy of the lower level rise to this floor, keeping the ambiance alive. But it’s darker, more intimate.
“Champagne and a Negroni, please,” Liam settles up next to me at the bar.
He must have followed me up here. I wanted him to, but now that he’s here, I don’t know if I wish he’d turn around and leave or stand closer. Maybe pull me to him. Maybe hand me this drink and walk away.
He passes me my drink.
“You didn’t need to do that,” I say .
“A thank you would suffice.” He smiles at me.
“Thank you,” I say sarcastically, but it comes off more playful, almost as if I’m trying to flirt with him. Am I?
We leave the bar and walk over to the ledge that overlooks the lower level. There is a small counter at the top of the metal ledge with enough space to rest your drinks and lean on. We stand next to each other.
Looking down, it’s easy to spot Chloe in her metallic sequin dress. She’s a disco ball, the lights from the DJ booth reflecting off her. She’s moving her body in tune with the beat, a man’s hand wrapped around her waist and another in her hair. Chloe throws her head back. Her smile is big enough for all of her teeth to show. The guy leans his head into hers, whispering something to her that rewards him with another laugh.
“Chloe and Cal seem to be getting on,” Liam says.
“She got over Seth real quick,” I retort.
“When did they break up?”
“Four days ago. He cheated on her.”
Chloe and Seth broke up earlier this week. Clubbing wasn’t exactly what I had imagined for my birthday, but Chloe asked if we could. I said yes, deciding it was a good reason for everyone to get out, relax, and loosen up.
“Shit. That bloody sucks. They’d been properly together for what?”
“Under a year. Chloe had suspicions when Seth visited and finally confronted him over the weekend. I’m happy he didn’t lie to her. It takes a lot of balls to own the truth.” I take a couple of sips of my champagne. “Cal and Chloe do look good together.”
“You and Alec looked good together, too.” I turn my head to stare at him and find that Liam is already looking at me.
“Yep.” My stare doesn’t falter.
“He’s friendly with you,” he says bitterly.
I know he saw us walk in. Then saw us at the bar, where Alec’s hand was still on my lower back, making idle circles on it. Then back on the couches, how close together we sat. There wasn’t much space to begin with. Alec tried to have me sit on his lap, but that was pushing it. I didn’t exactly want him here to begin with.
“Yeah, friendly,” I respond.
“When did you two get together? Before or after I kissed you.”
It’s been two weeks since he finished it with Natalie, two weeks since he kissed me. This also means it’s been two weeks that I’ve been ignoring every emotion and pull I feel viscerally.
I want him. I want Liam on my best and worst days.
But I’m trying to make sure I want an us too.
Speaking of Natalie. She has been watching the two of us like hawks tonight. However, her expression is hard to gauge.
I roll my eyes at Liam, shaking my head down toward the lower level.
“We aren’t together, Liam.”
“Just like you aren’t actually with him.”
My head snaps back in his direction. I open my mouth to refute his statement, but he beats me to it. “Why is he here, States?”
“I like him.”
“No, you don’t.” He’s shaking his head at me, an insanely hot smirk painted across his lips, one I want to kiss right off his face. “If you did, you wouldn’t have been tense when you walked in. And it wasn’t because you were staring at me. You didn’t like his touch. And you didn’t like it at the bar or when you sat down.”
“Not. . . true,” I say between catching my breath. Liam moves closer to me and places his hand exactly where Alec’s was. An ice-cold shiver rushes over my body, but it doesn’t cool off the heat radiating out from where his touch is. My body impulsively leans into the touch.
Liam doesn’t say anything. Pulls his hand away, though.
I move closer to him, craving to have that touch back. I flutter my eyes several times, trying to clear out the images and thoughts of everywhere I miss and want those hands to be.
“It’s my birthday,” I say to him .
“I know.” He inches toward me on the ledge. We’re standing shoulder to shoulder.
“Aren’t you going to wish me a happy birthday?”
“Is that what you wanted? Me to follow you up here to wish you a happy birthday.”
Liam leans into me. I want him to kiss me again.
He doesn’t.
His facial hair brushes against my cheek, and I shudder at the roughness of his movements. His mouth is next to my ear.
“Happy birthday States,” he says. His breath sends a shiver down my spine.
Liam reverses his movements, placing a kiss on my cheek.
“You look sexy tonight,” he says, kissing my cheek again.
Similar to Chloe, I’m also wearing a silver dress. Metallic denim, strapless, mid-thigh, and a zipper front that is undone enough that my boobs can breathe from being pressed up into each other. Matching silver heels and earrings.
“Liam,” I sigh as he kisses my cheek again. Then my bare neck.
I want his mouth on mine. Not my neck. Not my cheek.
Not on anyone else.
I want his mouth on mine and only mine forever.
I reluctantly pull away from his touch, turning to face him. Finding his eyes, I see intensity rivaling my own, but I read what else they say.
Liam isn’t going to kiss me again. I need to be the one to kiss him.
You shouldn’t kiss him. You should kiss him. My conscience battles itself. You shouldn’t kiss him. You should kiss him.
I want to. I need to. Screw it.
I kiss him. It’s frantic and rushed before I change my mind.
Our kiss isn’t soft. Neither of us is trying to be. Our lips move with passion and intention, laying claim to each other.
We pull apart .
Liam’s eyes search my face as if he’s trying to gain access to my present thoughts. I don’t know why; he is my every thought. Right now. Six years ago. Three years ago. Every damn day.
I bring my hand to my lips, gently touching them, dragging my fingers down, and pulling my lower lip with them until they are resting there. I’m savoring the feel of his kiss. My eyes never leave his.
In a heartbeat, Liam’s hands are cupping my face. He turns our bodies, pressing my back into the ledge.
Liam devours my mouth in a kiss, so satisfying it will be in the minds of everyone around us, not that I’m paying attention to them. I couldn’t even if I tried.
I moan into his mouth as his tongue slides against my teeth and then licks the roof of my mouth. I kiss him harder. Liam lets me take control as his tongue retracts to his mouth.
He moans out a curse as I bite down on his lip, exactly the way he used to let me. Three years, and we still know exactly what buttons to push, where to touch, nip, kiss, and lick.
My hands drop from his hair to his back. Finding the hem of his shirt and then finding their way under them.
“Quite impatient.” He laughs against my lips. “I’ve had three years to think about the things I want to do to you, States. No need to rush this.”
“Show me.”
My eyes sparkle with imagination.
“Not here,” he says. “Not right now.”
I remove my hands, letting them fall to my side. Liam takes them and puts them around his waist.
“It’s about time!” someone yells at us. Liam pulls away. I glance over my shoulder to see that it’s Cal. Chloe is sitting next to him, throwing double thumbs-up at us. “You might want to get a room,” he yells again.
I look at Liam. He looks at me.
“Want to?” I ask him. Biting the corner of my bottom lip .
“Only if you can tell me you want us.”
“What?”
“This.” He points to me and then to him. “Only if you properly want us,” he repeats himself.
I’m taken aback by what he’s saying. Is it not obvious I want him? I kissed him. I’m roving my hands on his body. I’m liquid under his touch.
I want Liam. Is that not obvious?
Liam reads my expression. “Not only me, Emerson. Us. I told you what I wanted. I don’t want one night of sex with you. I want you forever. If you don’t want the same, then this can’t happen.”
I don’t move. I’m frozen. By the confession? By the hurt? By the heat that eviscerated my body only moments ago?
“I’m going home. Be brave this time.” He kisses me and then walks away. “Enjoy your birthday, States.”
I watch from the upper level as he approaches Cal. Grabs his jacket and exits.