Chapter 4
Liam, Liam, Liam.
I went to sleep thinking about him, and here I am still thinking of him. Stupid. Ridiculous, honestly. I feel like a silly girl with a silly little crush that came out of nowhere.
But in the light of day, I can’t believe I hopped on that bike with a total stranger. That’s a great way to get your own documentary. I can see the title now: The Last Ride of Cassandra James: What really happened? They’d be sure to get my worst angle, too. RIP to my common sense, I guess.
But the thing is, Liam didn’t feel like a stranger. Liam felt like someone I’d known for years. I could have talked to him for hours longer up on that bluff.
Do I need to learn from my past with Alan? Yes. Of course I do. But every man is not like Alan. He may have done a number on my confidence, but I know for a fact plenty of good men exist. And I want to be able to trust my gut, which currently says Liam is one of the good ones.
I’m still lying in bed, half recounting the previous evening in my head and half doom-scrolling social media when a notification pops up.
Liam_Davis started following you.
I tap the Follow Back button and go as quickly as my fingers will take me to his profile, but a series of text messages interrupts my cyber stalking.
Penny
Austin is making breakfast. Join us?
Completely out of oat milk, yesterday I ate a bowl of dry Froot Loops, so breakfast with Austin and Penny sounds amazing. Scrolling, I read the next text and the good mood I awoke with diminishes.
Alan
You’ve had your fun, Cassie. Now change the website.
Before I can deal with him, I shoot a quick text to Penny.
Sure. Be right down.
Now to address Alan. My thumb hovers, poised to type a response when another text pops up.
Alan
For what it’s worth, my dick works perfectly fine. Just not with you.
His text lands like a slap, but I refuse to lob insults back and forth like grenades. After that though, no way in hell will I change that website. I might have been his free labor who was willing to learn how to run his website, but that asshole can hire someone to figure that shit out.
Go to hell, Alan.
My phone continues to vibrate with texts from him, but I flip it over and climb from bed.
I enter Penny’s kitchen to find her sitting at the table, nose in a book, with her cat, Honey, curled up in her lap. She’s still in her pajamas, auburn hair piled on top of her head. When she sees me, she lowers the book and motions to the steaming mug across from her.
“I went ahead and made you some tea. There’s sugar or honey if you want some.” She gestures to a small basket in the middle of the table full of honey sticks and sugar packets. “And I know you aren’t sure how long you’ll be here, but I bought you a housewarming gift.”
Next to the basket sits a Saint Dolly prayer candle and some variety of a houseplant.
“Everyone needs our Patron Saint Dolly in their lives. And the snake plant seemed to fit you,” Penny explains.
Picking up the candle, I grin when I see that under the illustration of Dolly are the words, The higher the hair, the closer to God.
“I love it, Penny. Thank you. And I’ll try to keep the plant alive.
” A rush of warmth spreads over me at her thoughtfulness.
I don’t know what my brother did in a past life to deserve Penny, but after only knowing her a week I already love her.
She’s the definition of Southern hospitality with her gentle kindness and a voice that conjures thoughts of sweet tea and summer nights catching fireflies.
Penny also seems wise, befitting that of a true adult, while the rest of us are merely taller, wearing bigger clothes, pretending to be grown- ups. At least that’s how adulthood feels to me.
Dropping in the chair across from her, I take a tiny sip of my tea, and grab a stick of honey from the basket. I don’t even realize I’m wearing a trace of a smile until Penny puts her book down.
“Something’s different about you today,” she surmises, brown eyes scanning my face. When I won’t make direct eye contact, she gasps. “Oh my god! Did you meet someone? Already?”
I know she doesn’t intend for that “already” to drip with judgment, and maybe it’s my own guilty conscience projecting. Yes, I am a scant week out of a breakup; I’m fully aware.
“I didn’t meet someone. As you put it. I made a friend.”
“Go on.” Penny rolls her hand, urging me on.
“His name is Liam.” Penny’s eyes widen, but I keep talking. “I went to the bar last night and we hit it off. He even took me for a ride on his bike. Why are you giving me that look?”
“It’s just, well, Liam’s…how do I describe Liam?” She puffs out a breath.
Just then, Austin comes striding in, his shaggy brown hair still sleep-ruffled. “Liam’s a fuck boy. Stay away, Cass. I brought you here to start over, not for a rebound.”
Ouch.
That’s rich coming from someone who I know for a fact has had his fair share of no-strings situations. Yes, I’ve only done long-term relationships, but it appears you’re only allowed to have a carefree night of sex if you have a penis. Noted.
I don’t even try to hide my irritation, nostrils flaring as I poke my tongue into my cheek.
Austin has always been overprotective of me, which I find equally annoying and endearing, but since the day I arrived here, he’s been handling me with kid gloves, like he’s the picture of a straight and narrow path.
After all he’s been through, I’d expect him to be a little easier on me.
“I don’t need to be managed, Austin. I didn’t come here for that. It’s infantilizing.”
“Austin,” Penny says, her lips set into a line. “Don’t talk about Liam like that. He’s like a little brother to me.”
“Penn, I get it, but come on now.” Austin sighs heavily and cracks several eggs into a dish, whisking in some heavy cream and shredded cheese, before he lays out strips of bacon in another pan. Meanwhile, I’m still fuming, shooting daggers with my eyes at my brother.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he says, over his shoulder. I guess my eye daggers worked. “That was uncalled for. I’m still pissed about the Alan situation.”
“And Cassie,” Penny adds, cutting Austin a look. “I don’t know what you’re looking for, but right now Liam’s not a settle down kind of guy. He’s more the smoke a joint together then eat your weight in powdered donuts together kind of guy.”
“I like powdered donuts,” I interject, and Penny laughs. Even Austin gives a short chuckle.
“Liam makes a great friend. If that’s what you want, he’s perfect. But I know how Liam is. We grew up together at the studio.”
“Wait, Liam’s part of the studio, too?” I hitch a thumb in the direction of Singing River Sound that sits across the street from Penny’s house.
It’s legendary, known world-wide, and Penny’s the owner.
When her father passed away, she inherited it.
My brother’s life as a country music star was doing more hard than good, and the small town studio away from it all is the whole reason he’s here.
“Sure is. Liam can play anything we set in front of him. He’s been in the band since he graduated high school.”
Well, that explains the harmonica and music note tattoo I saw wrapping up his forearm. So, he’s a business owner and part of the studio band. A real renaissance man.
“Cass,” Austin says, his tone more gentle this time.
“From what I’ve heard, Liam sleeps around.
You’ve already been hurt, and I don’t want to see it happen again.
” His eyes soften, going tender. “You’re my baby sister.
I’m all for you making a friend, but be careful.
Set up those boundaries you’re always preaching to me about. ”
I refuse to follow Austin down the conversational path he’s leading.
There’s only so much big brother talk I can handle this early in the morning.
But he’s got a point. While flirting felt nice, anything more than that is not what I need right now.
I’ve already talked Liam into this whole list idea, but a friend is all I’m able to handle in my current condition.
Thankfully, Austin lets the subject drop, and Penny goes back to her book while I sit, letting this new information ping pong around in my head.
What makes them so sure Liam is a fuck boy?
Did he flirt last night? Absolutely. But there was more to him than that.
What is hidden under that easy going facade?
After spending time with him on the bluff, I’m not buying into the rumor that all he does is sleep around, and I think Penny also knows there’s more below the surface of Liam.
Austin fills our plates with scrambled eggs and bacon, and we dig in.
I’m silent while the two of them discuss everything going on at the studio this week.
Penny has roped Austin into doing some handy work, so I let them go over their to-do list while I consider my own upcoming schedule.
As a tele-health therapist, I can work from anywhere.
If I do indeed stay here, I’ll need to transfer my license from Texas to Alabama.
I never agreed to a hard and fast plan for staying in Singing River, but I can’t afford an apartment in Dallas on a single income, and I really don’t want to move back to Warbler where my aunt and uncle live.
Following that thought, my mind lands back on the list sitting in my notes app.
Completing it means I’ll be here for a while, and if that’s the case, I need groceries.
Cooking is something Austin and I both learned from our aunt Ashley.
She’s a great chef, and as a child I loved dragging a chair across the kitchen to watch beside her at the stove.
I cooked all the time until Alan made me feel like I was terrible in the kitchen.
Don’t be so sensitive, Cassie. All I’m saying is I’ve had better.
Are you sure it’s supposed to taste like this?
Nettling barbs, designed to sting. Eventually I learned that ordering takeout was easier than listening to his running commentary.