Chapter 1
CHAPTER
ONE
SOPHIE
I’m on fire.
Not literally, thank goodness. But my whole body is tingly and damp and the hair at the back of my neck is wet and sticking to my skin. I put my hand to my chest and feel a trail of sweat weaving its way down my cleavage. My bare cleavage.
Which means I’m naked.
I blink my eyes open and crane my head to find the source of the intense heat. He’s lying behind me, his arm flung over my stomach, his chest curved against my back. His breathing is soft, his hair messed up, and I have no idea whether that’s due to a poor night’s sleep or me.
I feel that I need to point out something.
I don’t usually do this kind of thing. It’s not that I look down upon people who have one-night stands.
I’d love to be so carefree that I could sleep with somebody and walk away from them with a smile on my face, last night’s clothes cladding my sated body.
But I just can’t. I catch feelings. I feel hurt when they don’t call. I overanalyze things so one-night stands are not good for me.
I lift his arm and manage to wiggle away from his still-slumbering body. I still feel like I’m about to combust, so I tiptoe naked to the bathroom and close the door as quietly as I can, my head pounding with a reminder that we drank way too many cocktails last night.
Although he drank more than me. There’s some small comfort in that.
When I turn, I catch a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror.
I look terrible. My hair is a mess, there’s a huge creased red spot on my cheek where I’ve been resting it against the pillow. A cocktail of emotions rush through me.
Horror. Embarrassment. The pure excruciating knowledge that I’m going to have to walk out and face the man currently sleeping like a baby in my bed.
Oh, did I tell you that I know him?
Liam Salinger. My best friend’s brother-in-law and all around cocky rich guy.
I’ve known him for a few months. Since Ava – that’s my best friend – got engaged to his brother, Myles. Who is lovely, by the way. And yes, some of that loveliness comes from the fact that he takes great care of Ava.
But back to Liam. How am I going to deal with this? I roll my eyes at my reflection, like it’s her fault for getting me into this situation in the first place. And then I swallow and the sour taste in my mouth makes me wince.
To delay the inevitable confrontation, I brush my teeth. And shower. And as I wrap myself in a towel, with the vain hope that either he was a mirage in the first place, or he’s had the good grace to leave while I’ve been skulking in here.
But no. He’s still in my bed. In fact, he’s made himself more at home. He’s lying on his back right in the middle, one arm flung over his head, the bedsheet half-wrapped around his hips, revealing his admittedly fine looking chest.
If we were at his place, I’d walk out and not look back. But since he lives in New York and I live in West Virginia that’s not happening. So he’s the one who needs to leave.
“Liam,” I whisper.
Nothing.
I say his name again, louder this time, and it results in a groan and him turning onto his side, facing away from me.
I’m not going to touch him. I just want him gone.
“For God’s sake,” I mutter and somehow that does the trick.
He lets out a low groan. I pull the white towel tightly around my chest. Why didn’t I get dressed before I tried to wake him up?
He turns onto his back, stretching his arms above his head as though he has all the time in the world to LEAVE MY HOME!
I don’t look at the way his chest muscles ripple. Okay, I do a bit.
Then his eyes open. He stares at the ceiling. Down at the bed. He blinks and his brows knit and if this was a documentary I’d find it fascinating. Man waking up and realizing he’s not in his own bed.
But this isn’t Netflix, it’s my life and it’s not funny at all.
His head turns in what feels like slow motion until those deep brown eyes land on me. His lips part but he says nothing for a moment. Just lets his gaze roam lazily over me.
“Sophie?” he croaks. “What’s going on?”
“You’re in my bed.”
He looks down at the tiny flowers on my coverlet. “I can see that. Have I been here all night?”
“You don’t remember?” I try to not sound annoyed.
Liam shakes his head slowly then winces. “Christ, what did I drink last night? Was it legal?”
“Mostly margaritas.”
He lifts a brow. “I don’t even like cocktails.”
“You seemed to like them last night.” I shrug because his choice of tipple isn’t my top priority right now. “Um, you need to leave.” I make a shooing motion with my hands in case he doesn’t get it.
He puts his hand up, looking slightly more with it. “Wait a minute. Were you in the bed, too?”
“It’s my bed,” I tell him. “So yes, I was.”
“And we…” He nods his head.
I take a deep breath. “Yes.”
His eyes widen. “Did we use protection?”
Dear God, this man is going to kill me. “I’m covered. Now can you leave?”
“But we should talk.”
“What about?”
“Was it okay?” he asks. “Was it good for you?”
My cheeks heat up. “Good for me as in did I…”
“Yeah. Did you?” His eyes don’t leave mine.
I shake my head. That’s the truth at least.
He sits up and runs his hands through his mussed up hair. Then he twists on the mattress and plants his feet onto my carpeted floor. The sheet still covers the important parts, thank God, because I don’t think I could face that right now.
“Sophie,” he says slowly. “You’re lying.”
My cheeks pink up. “What?”
“I always make sure a woman comes. Always. Multiple times.”
Dear God, he’s taking this as a personal failure. I just want him to go.
“Yes, you told me that at the bar.”
He frowns. “I did? What else did I say?”
“That you never sleep with a woman more than once.” I lift a brow because that’s the truth. He was drunk and so was I and somehow we started talking about relationships.
He doesn’t have them, apparently.
“So there you go,” I say, my voice falsely chirpy in an attempt to end this once and for all. “We’re one and done. Thank you and goodbye. I’m going to go get dressed in the bathroom. Please leave before I come back out. Your clothes are…” Where are his clothes? “Wherever you left them.”
“Sophe…”
The way he says it makes my heart twist. Not Sophie. Just Sophe. “Please Liam, just go.”
He looks almost relieved at that, and my chest contracts a little more. He wants an out. To extract himself without looking like a bad guy. And to be fair, I’ve given it to him.
We both went into this last night knowing the rules, even if some of them were broken.
“Okay.” He nods. “Yeah, you go get dressed.” He stands, the sheet falling away from his body and he looks completely unembarrassed at his nakedness.
I turn away so I’m not looking straight at him. “Can you do me a big favor?” I ask.
“Depends what it is.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to ask you for a second round.” I lift a brow.
He huffs. I’m not sure if it’s a laugh or an act of scorn. I can’t see his face and actually I’m not sure I need to know.
“So what is it?” he asks.
“Can we keep this between us?” I ask him. “As in, let’s not tell anybody at all.”
“Sure.” He sounds relieved. “Who would I tell anyway?”
“I don’t want Ava and Myles to find out. I don’t want things to get awkward.”
“I won’t tell them if you don’t,” he says.
“I definitely won’t.” There’s a shuffling noise. “You can look now,” he tells me. “I’m decent.”
I turn my head and he’s definitely not decent. Yes, he is covered up, his black boxers clinging to his muscled thighs, covering the part of him I remember the most.
But he could be fully dressed and still be indecent. That’s Liam Salinger for you.
“We’re going to have to see each other again,” he says. “When Ava has the baby. At the christening…” He scratches his stomach lazily, and I’m reminded of that animal quality again. He’s completely at ease, completely unashamed.
Completely the opposite of me.
“I know that.” I wince at the thought.
“So let’s not make this awkward, okay?” he asks, dipping his head until our gazes meet.
“Okay,” I agree. “No awkwardness.”
He takes a final look at me before he grabs his jeans from the floor near my bedroom door, then walks out into the hallway, his bare feet padding against the tile.
“See you later, Sophie,” he calls.
“Bye, Liam.”
A minute later I hear the slam of the front door and I lean my head against the wall, mortification hitting me like a tsunami. Why did I do this? Why did I say what I said? Why didn’t I go home last night when Ava and Myles did rather than drinking with the one man guaranteed to drive me insane?
I take a deep breath and peel myself off the wall, before walking to my dresser and grabbing my underwear. What’s done is done. I have to accept it. At least he said it wouldn’t be awkward. That’s good, isn’t it?
Spoiler alert. It gets awkward.