Chapter 11
POV: Maeve
What the hell was that?
Did he just kiss me—not just kiss me but make out with me—tongue action included then slam the door on my face and leave me standing there—alone?
He was infuriating. Absolutely infuriating.
I hated him.
But I also liked him.
The contradiction was sickening. How could one feel hate and desire at the same time? How was that even possible?
But with Liam it was.
It was a spiral of never ending emotion—so real—so powerful—so movie-like, that it sent me into an adrenaline dump as soon as our lips separated.
But he wouldn’t get away with it. Not this time.
I went along with his game when he ignored me for days after our first kiss. I went along with his game even better than he did, but this time, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t allow him to ignore me for days on end without an actual explanation. Because that kiss—most certainly did not mean that he wasn’t interested in me, like he said, it meant he was dying to get me undressed.
So, I did what any rational adult woman would do.
I stomped out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind me and walked right up to the bar. And walked to him with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.
He didn’t look up right away, I’m sure he was hoping I’d give up and walk away.
But he didn’t realize that this girl—well, she’s an author and authors are as stubborn as one can be. Mainly because we dream up unimaginable characters and set extremely high standards for men. So, stubborn is my middle name.
“Yes?” he tried to level his tone but it failed. I could tell he was nervous.
I scoffed. “Outisde.”
“Outside?” he cocked an eyebrow, waiting for me to explain.
“We need to talk, Liam.”
“We do?” he asked, as his gaze darted around the bar. But somehow no one had noticed that we were engaged in a face-off right now.
“Stop playing games, Liam. You can’t just do that.”
I was waiting for him to ask what I was referring to, but Liam was smart, he knew having attention drawn was a bad look, so he motioned towards the back door.
I followed him outside and behind the dumpster.
“You can’t do that! You can’t just kiss people like that, and lock them in the bathroom—the women’s bathroom of all places, then act like nothing happened. That’s not cool—not in America or Ireland. This is 2025, not the stone ages when women had no voice!” I blurted out.
Surprisingly so, he held his perfect composure and didn’t even crack a smirk. He just kept listening.
“Whatever this is—whatever you’re doing, it’s confusing. Ignoring. Kissing. Walking away.”
“I don’t do commitment,” he replied, simply.
“Was I asking you for commitment?”
He didn’t expect that one. He just looked at me all long and stone faced.
“I didn’t come to Ireland to find a husband. I told you that,” I reminded him.
He didn’t as much as nod.
“We could…” There I was, with my bad ideas again, offering casual sex, because frankly, I was interested in that, but as much as I wanted no strings possible, I knew it was an impossible thing to actually keep.
“No.”
His tone caught me off guard.
What kind of man denies the innuendo of sex?
I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was a hit to my ego.
“We shouldn’t,” he continued, pausing, looking down at his feet. “It’s not that simple. It never is.”
“So you don’t do one night stands?” I laughed. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“No, I do one night stands but this is different.” He didn’t look up.
“How is this any different?”
“Because….” he trailed off. “I like you Maeve. You’re funny and you’re witty and you’re spunky. And it just won’t work.”
“That’s a shitty excuse.”
“You know it won’t.”
“Kind of a cop-out, like cowardly,” I added.
And I saw the fire in his eyes.
He didn’t like me insinuating he was a coward, I guess what man would?
“I’m being honest with you.”
I rolled my eyes. “You actively started something, knowing you won’t finish it.”
His jaw ticked. “I didn’t intend to.”
“Well then maybe you shouldn’t have kissed me—twice!”
“Oh that’s a load!” he argued. “You kissed me the first time.”
“Yeah, well you continued it!” I yelled.
Liam stepped closer, just close enough that I thought he might kiss me again, as his hot breath warmed my skin in the cool night air. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, love.”
“Whatever,” I scoffed, refusing to fall for his sick little game again, if his intention was truly just to razzle me up enough for his ego’s sake and not put his money where his mouth is. I turned on my heels and away from him, back towards the bar.
“Where are you going?” he grabbed my hand, stopping me in place.
“Back to pay my bill.”
“Go home, Maeve,” his grasp weakened on my hand, then he let it go completely. “It’s on me, today.”
I looked at him and really looked him over. He came off as the type of guy who prided himself on his emotional strength, probably also his lack of emotions, but right now, it felt as if I could read everything on his face. The conflict. The confusion. The war going on inside his mind.
But I didn’t have it in me today to fight anymore, especially with a man who didn’t know what he wanted.
As I walked away from him, I realized I wasn’t much different.
I was conflicted, confused, and at a war in my own mind, too. Because even though I campaigned for no strings attached and fun sex, I knew deep down that I was interested in more than I bargained for.