Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
I wanted to run up and kiss him as the guys poured out of the locker room, but I held myself back—barely.
Our gazes locked as everyone swarmed them. The corner of his lips lifted and he winked, his green eyes shining with the heat I’d grown far too fond of over the last few weeks.
Ryan Donovan, a senior football player who lived in the Den—the house next door to the hockey house—raised his voice to be heard over the crowd. “Party at the Den to celebrate these guys!”
Cheers and whoops broke out because everyone knew the Den threw the best parties, especially when they were celebrating an athletic victory.
My brother walked over to me with a smile on his face and gave me a tight hug before moving on to my mom standing next to me with Rory in her arms. His smile grew even wider when he looked at his daughter, and pride swelled inside my chest. Drew might’ve been a total player before Rory entered the scene, but he’d done a complete one-eighty since her arrival.
He’d stepped up to be the dad she deserved, and he turned into a man that I always knew he could be.
“Hell of a game,” I said as he took Rory from our mom, cradling her against his chest like she was the most precious thing in the world. Because to him, she was.
“Couldn’t have done it without this little good luck charm in the stands.” He pressed a kiss to Rory’s forehead, and she babbled as she grabbed his shirt.
Foster appeared at Drew’s side, still buzzing with post-game energy. “You coming to the Den, Monty? Ryan said they’ve got a keg with your name on it.”
Drew shook his head, adjusting Rory in his arms. “Nah, I’m gonna head home with this one. Mom and Dad have to drive back to Meadowbrook.”
Our hometown was only about forty-five minutes away which meant it was easy for our parents to come to games or help out with Rory, but Drew had made it clear he wasn’t going to shirk his responsibilities as a dad.
“Bummer, but I get it. You played amazing tonight, man.”
“Aww, thanks, Candy Kane.”
Foster rolled his eyes. “And that’s my cue.” With a pat on my brother’s back, he walked away.
“It’s the man of the hour,” Liam said, appearing from somewhere in the crowd. His gaze flicked to me for just a second—quick enough that no one else would notice, but long enough to make my pulse jump. “You sure you don’t want me to stay back? Help with Rory?”
“Dude, no.” Drew laughed. “Go celebrate. You earned it. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That leaves a lot of options,” Liam said dryly.
Drew flipped him off with his free hand, but Liam just grinned.
I watched the exchange with a strange mix of warmth and anxiety. Drew trusted Liam completely. They were brothers in every way that mattered. And here I was, sneaking around behind my twin’s back with his best friend.
The guilt never fully went away, but right now it was drowned out by something else entirely—the anticipation of being at a party with Liam where Drew wouldn’t be watching our every interaction.
Not that we could actually do anything. Half the hockey team would be there, and any one of them could mention something to Drew later. Word traveled fast in their circle. We’d still have to be careful.
But at least I could look at him without my brother standing right there and wondering what was wrong with me.
An hour later, the Den was packed wall-to-wall with people celebrating.
Music pulsed through the house, and red cups or beer cans were in everyone’s hands.
I’d gotten separated from Sydney somewhere between the kitchen and the living room, but I wasn’t too worried. She could hold her own at a party.
What I was worried about was the fact that I couldn’t stop watching Liam.
He was across the room, leaning against the wall near the pool table with that easy confidence he wore like a second skin. Foster stood next to him, gesturing animatedly about something—probably replaying one of his plays from the game—while Gordy nodded along.
But it wasn’t Foster or Gordy who had my attention. It was the two girls who had materialized at Liam’s side like magnets drawn to metal.
I recognized one of them—Cady something, a sophomore who was rumored to have hooked up with half the football team. The other was a willowy blonde I’d never seen before. They were both gorgeous, both leaning into Liam’s space like they belonged there, and both laughing at something he said.
Jealousy—hot and ugly—surged through me.
I hated it. I hated that my stomach twisted every time Cady touched his arm.
I hated that my jaw clenched when the blonde flipped her hair and said something that made him smile.
I hated that I was standing here, nursing a beer I didn’t even want, feeling like a jealous girlfriend when I had absolutely no right to feel that way.
We weren’t together. We were just working through my list. Friends with benefits at best. He didn’t owe me anything, and I certainly didn’t own him.
But God, watching him be charming with other girls felt like swallowing glass.
The worst part was, he was good at this.
Too good. I’d seen him work a room a hundred times before—the easy smile, the lingering eye contact, the way he made whoever he was talking to feel like they were the only person in the world.
It was the same playbook he’d used on countless girls at countless parties.
The same playbook he used on you, the traitorous voice in my head whispered.
No. That wasn’t true. The way Liam looked at me was different. The way he touched me was different. When we were alone together, there was something real behind his eyes, something honest that I’d never seen him show anyone else.
At least, I thought there was.
But watching him now, watching Cady laugh and press closer while he didn’t step away, I wondered if I’d been fooling myself this whole time. Maybe I was just another girl who’d fallen for the Liam Farrell charm. Maybe I wasn’t special at all.
He’d said that we were basically exclusive while we were checking off my bucket list, but it didn’t look that way right now. And I couldn’t help the green-eyed monster who wondered if he’d leave with one of them.
I forced myself to look away before I did something stupid, like march over there and stake a claim I had no right to make.
Drew might not be here tonight, but his teammates were.
Foster and Gordy were literally standing right there.
If I acted even slightly possessive, it would get back to my brother before sunrise.
Taking a deep breath, I turned and headed toward the kitchen. If I couldn’t be with Liam tonight, then I’d just do what I always did at these parties—find my friends, have a few drinks, and try to have fun.
Sydney was in the kitchen, already two shots deep if the flush on her cheeks was any indication. She grabbed my arm the second she saw me.
“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Jason wants to introduce you to his friend.”
Before I could protest, she was dragging me toward a group of guys clustered near the fridge, including Sydney’s boyfriend, Jason.
His friend turned out to be a guy named Garrett—who was tall, tan-skinned, and had a smile that probably worked on most girls. He was on the basketball team, apparently, and more than happy to monopolize my attention.
“So, you’re Monty’s sister, right?” Garrett asked, using the nickname Drew had gotten early on—a play on our last name Dumontier and possibly an inside joke about his propensity for getting naked, but as his sister I preferred not to think about that part.
He leaned against the counter in a way that was clearly meant to show off his arms.
“Guilty as charged.”
He laughed like I’d said something hilarious, which I definitely hadn’t. But I smiled anyway because what else was I supposed to do? He was nice. He was attractive. He was interested in me.
And I felt absolutely nothing. No butterflies in my stomach, no giddy smile, no heart flutters. Not a single thing.
“You should come to one of our games sometime,” he said, stepping a little too close. “Basketball’s way more exciting than hockey.”
“I don’t know about that,” I said, taking a subtle step back. “Hockey players are pretty dedicated.”
“Yeah, but we’ve got better stamina.”
The innuendo was impossible to miss, and I had to fight not to roll my eyes. Was this really what passed for flirting these days? Was this what I would’ve been excited about before Liam had ruined me for anyone else?
I was about to make an excuse to leave when a familiar weight pressed against my back.
“This guy bothering you, Aves?”
Liam’s voice was low and rough, his accent thicker than usual. I could smell his cologne mixed with something sharper—whiskey, maybe—and feel the heat of him radiating through my shirt.
My heart slammed against my ribs, and butterflies erupted in my belly.
Garrett straightened, his easy smile faltering as he took in Liam’s expression. “We were just talking, man.”
“Didn’t look like just talking to me.” Liam’s arm came around my waist, casual but possessive, and I forgot how to breathe. “Looked like you were crowding her.”
“Liam,” I said quietly, a warning in my voice that I hoped he would catch.
“What?” He looked down at me, those green eyes glittering dangerously. “You looked uncomfortable. Just looking out for you.”
The words were right, but the tone was all wrong.
This wasn’t protective friend behavior. This was jealousy, barely contained, and I was suddenly acutely aware of how many hockey players were scattered throughout this party.
Any one of them could walk into this kitchen and see Liam’s hand on my hip.
Garrett seemed to get the message regardless. He held up his hands in surrender, stepping back with a tight smile. “No problem, man. We were just having a conversation. It was nice to meet you, Ava.”
He disappeared into the crowd, and suddenly it was just me and Liam standing far too close.
“What the hell was that?” I hissed, spinning to face him.
His jaw was tight. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”
“So you decided to mark your territory? In front of everyone?” I glanced toward the doorway, half expecting Foster to materialize. “Anyone here could tell Drew—”
“Drew’s not here.”
“But his friends are. Your teammates are.” I stepped back, putting necessary distance between us. “This is exactly what we can’t do, Liam.”
Something flickered across his face—frustration, maybe, or hurt. “So I’m just supposed to stand there and watch guys hit on you all night?”
“Yes,” I said, even though the word tasted bitter. “That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do. That’s what we agreed to.”
“I didn’t agree to this.” His voice dropped lower, rough with an emotion I couldn’t quite name. “I didn’t agree to watching you smile at other guys while I can’t even touch you.”
“You were doing plenty of smiling yourself,” I shot back. “Cady and her friend seemed very entertained.”
His eyes widened slightly, then a slow smile spread across his face. That infuriating, irresistible smile that made me want to kiss him and punch him in equal measure.
“You were jealous,” he said.
It wasn’t a question.
“I was not—”
“You were.” He stepped closer again, his voice dropping so only I could hear. “Ava Dumontier was jealous.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I’m not flattering myself. I’m stating a fact.” His thumb found my hip again, tracing a small circle that sent electricity shooting up my spine. “For the record, I wasn’t flirting with them. I was trying not to stare at you across the room like an idiot.”
My breath caught.
“You were staring at me?”
“Aves, I’m always staring at you.” His gaze dropped to my lips, then back up. “Every time I see some guy talking to you, I want to throw him through a wall. Tonight was just… I couldn’t take it anymore.”
I should have reminded him that we were supposed to be careful, that even with Drew at home, we couldn’t afford to act like this in public. Too many people knew both of us. Too many people could connect the dots.
Instead, I said, “There’s a bathroom upstairs. Last door on the left. Meet me there in five minutes.”
His eyes darkened. “Five minutes.”
I pulled away from him before I could do something stupid, like kiss him in front of everyone, and disappeared into the crowd without looking back.
We were playing with fire. I knew that. Drew might not be here tonight, but his shadow loomed over everything we did.
But right now, all I wanted was to burn.