Chapter 10 #2
“Come on. What’s your bet? What do I have to do if you win?” Liam asks, and the way the pads of his fingers have inched under the hem of my shirt has made my head cloudy.
“You have to do my laundry for a month.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You’re going to make me drive all the way here to do your laundry?”
“Yep!” The smile never leaves my lips. “Every week. I’ll be generous and let you pick the day.”
It’s obvious to me that he’d hate to be dragged out here every week.
“Of course, you’d be the dominant type. You into a little S and M, Greyson?”
“Not in your wildest dreams.” Rolling my eyes, I reluctantly pull away from his touch. The sudden coldness spreads over me, but the air is warm, the heat scorching, yet I feel ice cold.
Liam whines. “Come on, admit it. You like the idea of me being your concubine.”
“That is so … wrong.” I shake my head. “I didn’t ask you to do sexual things for me. Just my laundry! And it’s not the least bit funny, Liam.”
He smirks and gives me that boyish smile, which makes my heart flutter. “What about your pet?”
“Eww, no.” I blanch at the thought of him wearing a collar or drinking from a bowl on the floor. It’s weird and definitely not my flavor of kink.
My eyes widen, and I reach for his arm. “Wait. Are you into pet play?”
Liam bends over with laughter, wiping the tears from his eyes. “No, sweetheart. That’s not my brand of spice.”
I’m relieved, and I’m not even sure why I should care. “What is your brand?” I shouldn’t have even asked, but the question slips out before I can stop myself.
He leans closer, his breath tickling my ear. “If you really want to know, maybe you should go out on that hate-date with me.”
At least he can admit he hates me. “In your wildest dreams, asshole.”
I hurry toward Sophia’s dorm room, which is in the building across from mine. We’re both freshmen and were randomly assigned our housing and rooms.
I got lucky, my roommate moved out after the first week of classes. Watching Silence of the Lambs and Hannibal on repeat may have been the trigger. The college never assigned me a new roommate, and now that it’s summer, I practically get the entire floor to myself.
Can’t complain.
I thrive on silence.
I like the quiet.
It’s peaceful. Tranquil. There’s no obnoxious music pouring out from next door or the smell of weed permeating the hallway.
“So, are we on?” Liam asks as I swing open the door and head into her building.
“For the bet?” I step inside first, letting Liam grab the door behind me. I’m not holding it open for him. I refuse to let him think there’s so much as a romantic gesture on my end happening, because there’s not.
“What else, sweetheart?”
There he goes again, calling me that pervasive nickname.
“I’m not your sweetheart.” I glare at him as we enter the elevator together.
He huffs under his breath. “Not yet.”
My eyes widen as I turn to face him in the elevator.
“Floor six.” Liam gestures for me to hit the button for Sophia’s floor.
I press six and glare at him. “What do you mean, not yet?” Heat licks my body, flooding every inch of me from head to toe. I can feel my heart race, like it wants to beat outside of my chest. It’s overwhelming.
Why does Liam Moretti have this effect on me?
A wry smile spreads across his face. “No reason.”
Glaring at him, I shove him farther away. “Keep your distance.” It’s a warning. I don’t need him trying anything, like kissing me.
Not that it wasn’t amazing.
But I do not need my heart entangled with him.
He’s definitely not the hero.
Not in my story.
Not in anyone’s.
Liam Moretti is the villain.
How do I know this?
Because I grew up alongside him at school, and no one changes from villain to hero.
Not in real life.
Only in books or movies.
But this isn’t a fairytale, and he’s not my Prince Charming. There’s no magical transformation waiting to happen here, no grand gesture that will rewrite everything that’s come before.
Liam Moretti remains exactly who he’s always been—a villain in my life, not a hero, and certainly not the person who will sweep in to save the day.
Liam holds his hands up in surrender. “I haven’t done anything.” There’s that smile and wry grin that makes my stomach do flip-flops. “Sweetheart.”
Fuck me, the man is trying to kill me.
Each breath is more pronounced, like gasping for oxygen and having a limited supply. Except I’ve never been claustrophobic, but the elevator ride is making me dizzy, and I back up against the wall, gripping the handle, using it to keep myself upright.
The room spins, but I refuse to cower to it or admit that I’m quite uncomfortable at the moment. It’s not from Liam per se. He hasn’t so much as touched me in the confined space.
He watches me, which only makes me more uncomfortable.
I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand, sweat glistening on my skin, and the elevator is suddenly ten degrees warmer. My stomach roils for no reason other than my discomfort.
It’s definitely me.
I’m the only one feeling the heat. Liam appears calm and cool.
Another reason to hate him.
I shuffle my feet, my legs feeling a bit like jelly, the railing at my back the only comfort that surrounds me as my vision goes dark.