16. We Hate Each Other
WE HATE EACH OTHER
LIAM
I stood near the bar, champagne in hand, watching Deepika’s ass as she talked to someone across the terrace.
The guilt of ruining her bikini bottoms and leaving her commando under her dress had lasted approximately ten seconds before morphing into lust at the knowledge that she was bare underneath all that fabric.
The dress hugged her curves, and every movement made me hyperaware that there was nothing between her skin and the silk except air.
Fuck me, my pants had started to feel tight. Again.
I took a long drink.
“You’re staring.”
I turned and Kiara stood beside me, champagne flute in hand, with one eyebrow raised in a way that was far too knowing.
“Who? Me? Ha, I’m not—”
“You absolutely are,” she smiled. “At my cousin’s ass, specifically.”
My brain short-circuited. “I wasn’t… she was just—”
“Relax,” Kiara said with a laugh. “You’re engaged. You’re allowed to stare. Though maybe try to be subtle about it? You look like you’re planning to devour her.”
Heat crept up my neck, and then Ethan materialized in front of me, blocking my view entirely with his arms crossed.
“Hey, man,” I said, keeping my tone casual. But it sounded forced.
“Don’t ‘hey man’ me,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “Were you just staring at Deepika’s ass while talking to my fiancée?”
I started whistling badly because I didn’t know what to reply to that.
“Liam.”
“What? It’s a nice dress.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Leave him alone,” Kiara nudged his shoulder. “They’re cute.”
“Cute?” Ethan looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “This is Liam. And Deepika. They’ve hated each other since we were kids.”
“Hate is just love that hasn’t figured itself out yet.” Kiara patted his chest.
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Uh oh. Mom and Dad were fighting.
Kiara raised her brow in challenge and said, “You proposed to me by saying you took a fart on the heart.”
I raised my brow at him, a smirk curling on my lips.
Ethan shook his head. “That’s different.”
“How?”
While they bickered, I took another drink and tried not to think about Deepika on her knees in that changing room, my hand over her mouth, her body shaking against mine.
“You know what I don’t get?” Ethan asked, turning back to me, Kiara momentarily distracted by someone calling her name. “How you went from publicly humiliating Deepika at that Valentine’s party to proposing to her in a diner. What’s the connection?”
I winced at the mention of that day. I wish I could go back to when I was a dumb teenager and take back what I had said.
“I guess I’m very charming,” I said with a grin, winking at my best-friend.
Ethan stared at me.
“What?”
“You’re so fucking stupid,” he said and continued. “But seriously. You do remember what you did, right? When you were a complete dick to her.”
“Yeah,” I said, finishing my champagne. “I remember.”
“Did you ever apologize?”
“Recently.”
“Recently? It’s been what—more than a decade?”
“I’m aware.”
He studied me. The look he gave when he was trying to figure out if I was about to do something spectacularly stupid.
“You actually like her.”
“It’s fake, man,” I replied quickly. “Just PR.”
“PR, hmm. That’s why you’ve been eye-fucking her all this time.”
“Are you scolding Liam again?” Kiara reappeared, smiling at her fiancé, who recovered his scowl and kissed her temple. “You should leave him alone. They’re working it out.”
“Working what out? They’re pretending to be engaged for three months.”
“Sometimes pretending is how you figure out it’s real.” She kissed his cheek. “Come on. I want to try out the photo booth.”
Ethan let himself be pulled away, but not before shooting me a look that clearly said, ‘We’re talking about this later.’
I rolled my eyes. He could be such a dad sometimes. Speaking of which, he’d make a great dad.
I scanned the terrace and found Deepika on the balcony. The last rays of the sun painted her silhouette as she stood by herself.
My chest pulled tight.
I should leave her alone and maintain distance because whatever we had was temporary.
Instead, I walked toward her.
The balcony was quieter, separated from the main party by glass doors that muffled the noise to a dull hum. Deepika stood at the railing, arms wrapped around herself, staring at the LA skyline turning gold and pink.
She didn’t turn when I approached.
“Shouldn’t you be out there being the Golden Boy?” she asked, her voice dropping into that low and husky tone that usually meant she was five minutes away from either a nap or a felony.
“I’m officially off the clock,” I said, stepping into her personal space until the scent of her jasmine-and-sin perfume clouded my head. “What about you, Sharma?”
Do you wanna leave and fuck in the car?
I held myself back from blurting that out.
“I’m done. My social battery is in the negatives, my fake smile is starting to twitch, and I am currently navigating a room while completely commando.” She finally cut her dark eyes toward me, a tired but sharp challenge in her gaze. “I’ve officially met my quota for high-risk behavior today.”
I let my gaze drop, tracing the curve of her hip where I knew that there was nothing but skin and silk. I licked my lips, the taste of her still a ghost on my tongue.
“Is that a challenge, Sharma?” I leaned in, my voice a rough murmur against her ear. “Because I’m an Olympian. And personally? I think you’ve got room for at least one more career-ending mistake before the sun comes up.”
She snorted, a genuine, unscripted sound that made my chest tighten and making me smile.
After a second, I stopped smiling. Because why was I doing that?
I moved to stand beside her, both of us facing the city. Surprisingly, the silence wasn’t uncomfortable between us as the wind brushed our naked skin.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “For being a dick. A jealous and insecure dick.”
She turned to look at me, surprise flickering across her face.
“Why were you jealous?”
The truth sat heavy on my tongue, but I let it out anyway.
“Because you saw through me. You saw I was in love with someone I couldn’t have. And instead of being vulnerable, I lashed out.”
Her expression softened. “I’m sorry I teased you about Kiara.”
“I’m sorry I made you feel like your body was something to be ashamed of,” I said, holding her gaze. “For the record, you’re stunning. You always have been.”
Her lips parted slightly, her brown eyes bright and golden.
The air between us shifted.
She looked away first, back to the skyline, but soft color had slashed her cheeks.
“You know,” she said, voice lighter but with an edge. “If you really want to apologize properly…”
I turned to face her fully. “Yeah?”
She bit her lip. “You could use that smart mouth of yours somewhere more... productive.”
Every drop of blood in my body headed south.
My eyes darkened. “Is that an invitation?”
Her eyes went wide. “I—no. Maybe. I don’t know. Forget I said anything.”
But she didn’t move away or put distance between us. If anything, she leaned closer.
“Deepika.”
Deepika. Deepika. Deepika. I wanted to keep repeating her name like a mantra.
“What, Liam?”
“You can’t say something like that and expect me to forget it.”
“I was joking.”
“You weren’t.”
“I was tipsy.”
“You had one glass of champagne.”
“It was a big glass.”
I edged closer, and the delicate fragrance of her perfume reached my nose. Jasmine and vanilla, the scent that had been driving me insane since that party.
“Say it again.”
“Say what?”
“That you want my mouth on you.”
She swallowed hard. “We’re at a party.”
“We were at a party an hour ago, too. But it didn’t stop us then.”
Her breathing had quickened, and I could see her pulse jumping at her throat.
“Liam, we—”
“Say it.”
“We hate each other.”
“Do we?”
The question hung between us as my eyes dropped to her plump lips.