Chapter 10
POV: Liam?
The last few days I made it my goal to ignore her—the snarky, pretty American tourist.
Though, I did a shitty job at it.
Over the course of the last two days, she came into the bar twice. I noticed her immediately, it was hard not to, though she tried to hide in an oversized wool sweater each time, and sneak her way into a booth, our gazes always found their way to each other…one way or another.
I did it for one of two reasons.
The primary reason being I wasn’t interested in a relationship even though I was interested in her.
And I knew by showing interest in her, things would lead down the rabbit hole of more than just a casual fucking, though I prided myself on being able to shut off emotions like a lightswitch, there was just something about Maeve that added an extra level of difficulty I wasn’t used to.
Connection.
We had a connection and I knew it.
There was just something about her snarky comments—the bite in her tone and the way her eyes rose with flames whenever I challenged her or poked fun at her.
There was also something about the way she looked. Smooth skin, almost flawless, with a few sunspot freckles on her nose, blue eyes, as bright as the caribbean sea, and hair that wasn’t quite blonde but wasn’t quite brown either. And the way she tried to hide her curves underneath a baggy sweater—the girl had a body, that’s for sure.
But it wasn’t just her personality or her looks that did it for me—there was a spark, that godforbidden spark that people talk about in cheesy romance books and overrated rom-com movies.
It was there, and I felt it. And I’m sure she did, too.
But what really sent me spiraling was the simple fact that she ran away from me after our kiss, and without a single word.
Normally, I wouldn’t have cared.
But something inside me wouldn’t allow me not to.
That damned spark.
That damned spark that I wished would go away and never come back.
I didn’t do relationships. At least I hadn’t since my ex left me with nasty internal scars. But she was long gone now, but still not forgotten.
And I definitely wasn’t trying to replace her memory, with some fresh scars from a pretty American tourist.
So, I decided that the best course of action was no course of action. At all.
Ignore Maeve, hopefully she catches the hint, and realizes I’m not interested in her, even though I am.
But ignoring her, especially when she was in close proximity was a double edged sword itself.
Because I didn’t want to ignore her.
So I found myself sneaking glances at her, hoping she didn’t notice, even though I knew she caught a few. Then she got caught up in my sister Caitlin’s web of conversation, surrounding her interest in Declan, which only made my blood boil even though I pretended like I wasn’t listening. And that was it.
I went home that night and thought about what it was like to fuck her. Because I couldn’t help it. And I knew ignoring her indefinitely was probably not going to workout.
And I found myself again, watching her as she entered at happy-hour, sliding her tiny body into a corner booth and I couldn’t help but stare.
I let Caitlin bring her a menu and watched as she did, the two exchanged in easy conversation.
I watched the way she laughed, tucked a strand of dark blonde hair behind her ear and handed Caitlin back the menu. My preoccupation was completely unnoticeable, that was until her gaze caught mine.
Shit.
I tore my gaze away almost immediately and back towards the drink I was clearly ruining. Now it was four fifths vodka and one fifth club soda. Strong as shit.
I told myself not to look at her again, and things were going swimmingly until I exited the bathroom and almost knocked right into her.
“Sorry,” I murmured, looking into her eyes only once. But it was just long enough to lose sight.
“Hello Liam.” Her tone was anything but welcoming.
“Hello Maeve.”
“Avoiding me?” Her eyes narrowed on me.
My lip twitched. “Not at all. I’m running a business.”
“Oh, I forgot running a business includes flirting with your patrons,” she mocked.
This time my jaw ticked. “Hey, you’re the one who ran away.”
She knew how to poke the bear.
She almost rolled her eyes. “It was raining. At least I haven’t been avoiding you like some teenage girl.” As she said the words, she turned on her heels and was off towards the women’s bathroom. But I wouldn’t let her get away with this easily. She can’t just start something she’s not prepared to finish.
I followed her into the women’s bathroom and locked the door latch behind me. My back pressed into the door, stopping her exit and forcing her to confront the reality of this. “You wanted to talk, so talk.”
“You can’t do this. This is the women’s bathroom!” she stuttered.
A laugh slipped from my lips as I cocked an eyebrow. “Yes, I can. You told me that the women’s bathroom needs to be serviced or did you forget?”
“Whatever,” she shrugged, walking to the stall. “You can wait here while I use the bathroom. Doesn’t bother me.”
Goddamn it she was stubborn.
So, I waited. And believe me she took her time.
Five minutes later she left the stall, washed and dried her hands for another five minutes before she faced me with her hands on her hips. “Now you’re blocking me from leaving.”
“I think we need to have a conversation.”
“About?” she asked, her gaze never leaving mine.
“About this,” I replied. “This won’t work out. I’m not right for you, Maeve. I’m not interested in a relationship, especially not with a foreigner.”
She scoffed. “Someone’s got an ego. I am not interested in a relationship with a foreigner, either.”
“Good, well that settles it.”
“That settles it then.” She nodded.
But as I said the words and watched her eyes narrow and her lips curl into that irresistible little pout, I found my self control wavering. Big time.
I wanted her. I had thought about fucking her. And here I was telling her I didn’t want her.
“Now can I leave?” she asked.
I wanted to step out of the way of the door and let her go, but something inside me refused to, so I stood in her way and waited for her to do something about it.
“Liam,” she let out a heavy sigh. “You’ve got to let me out.”
“I think I like seeing you irritated,” I shrugged, smiling.
“It’s not funny,” she protested.
And before I could stop myself my eyes dropped down to her lips. Pouty. Pink. Kissable.
She stopped towards me until she was just inches away from my face. “Stop looking at me like that, Liam.”
I could smell lilac and strawberries, the scent of her perfume and chapstick, an infuriatingly intoxicating aroma.
Then her hand went towards the door handle, but I caught it in my grasp.
And suddenly there was no space between us—just my lips on hers, and my hands around her waist, and the soft sound of gasps as I kissed her and pressed her against my chest.
I knew this was a bad idea but I couldn’t stop myself. She was intoxicating.
Kiss after kiss meshed together then I slipped my tongue inside my mouth and tasted her—and god, she tasted better than she smelled.
She let out a soft gasp into my ear, one that made my cock harden.
And that’s what brought me back to reality.
This can’t happen. This shouldn’t happen.
I tore my lips from hers as my arms fell down to my sides. Then without speaking, I unlocked the door and left without looking back.