Chapter 19
Josie
I’ll be there in five for makeup.
Come on in. Penny is up here keeping me company.
It’s Halloween, and while Penny and Josie handle trick-or-treaters, I’ll be with Liam at the annual Halloween party at Old Town Tavern.
Over the last couple weeks, his mood has continually worsened.
The night of our low-key illegal activity, I thought we made progress.
Things were back to normal. The following evening, we had dinner with his parents and he was upbeat, all smiles and laughs.
But since then, there’s been a shift, a switch flipped.
He’ll go silent for days on end, only to show up at my apartment like I didn’t just spend the last few days being ghosted.
If I tried bringing up his absence, he’d change the subject.
Once he got up and left, altogether. I know what avoidance looks like, and Liam is Exhibit A.
I could name a defense mechanism in my sleep.
But recognizing it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
As a last-ditch effort, I gave him something to look forward to.
Sheila came up with the original idea. This year, Old Town Tavern would host a costume contest for Halloween. The prize: Free beer for a year. Who doesn’t want free beer? It’s fucking brilliant. It was me who came up with the second idea. Liam and I would attend in costume.
He agreed, but we had trouble deciding our costumes.
We took so long we weren’t sure if they’d be here in time.
My black bustier only arrived this morning.
He wanted to be Sonny and Cher and I wanted to be Edward Scissorhands and Lydia.
But when I began my annual rewatch of The Vampire Diaries, it hit me. I immediately texted him costume ideas.
He’ll be here any second for Josie to put her artistic touch to our fake blood.
Minutes later, I hear the rumble of an engine and a door slam. My heart leaps into my throat thinking it’s Liam, but then Josie’s voice cuts through the air, belting out a Taylor Swift song.
She swings open the door and bounds in like a bull in a China shop, her colorful kimono swaying behind her. Slung onto one arm is a bag, makeup and face paint poking from the top.
“I have exactly twenty minutes, then I need to get back home and help my kids get ready. We’re visiting Mawmaw before we go trick or treating. Sit.”
She points a finger at the chair next to me, and I follow her command.
I’ve no sooner sat than the door opens again.
The room goes silent other than the sound of the collective breath Penny, Josie, and I all draw.
Liam stands in the doorway, his normally untamed hair slicked back from his face and—god, he looks devastating.
Everyday Liam is already sexy as it is, but Liam wearing black trousers that fit like a glove and a white button-down, open halfway down his chest has tipped the scales to a level of temptation I’m not sure I’m equipped for.
Achingly handsome. But also dangerous. He looks like a vampire on the hunt.
Penny and Josie might see him as their little brother, but it seems even they aren’t immune to his good looks today.
“Good lord, Liam. You look hot as hell. Better than Damon himself,” Josie says, grabbing his arm to seat him next to me.
But Liam doesn’t budge. He stands stock still in the doorway, and I’m suddenly acutely aware what people mean when they say a person has hunger in their eyes.
Because Liam looks like he wants to devour me.
My bustier cinches me tight, creating an hourglass figure while the swells of my breasts spill over the top.
The tulle skirt barely skims my hips, only functioning to cover my ass, leaving my fishnet clad legs exposed.
I knew I looked good when I got dressed, but by the way Liam’s chest rises and falls as he takes me in, I’ve never felt sexier.
I wonder if, at times like this, Liam regrets the friend label we slapped on this relationship. I, for one, sure as shit do.
Josie tries again, tugging Liam’s arm, and this time he allows her to lead him to the seat next to me. The chairs are so close, his knee presses against mine, and I can feel the warmth of it through my fishnets.
“You two are ridiculous. I hope you guys know it. Eye fucking each other like that right in front of Penny and me.”
Penny grabs a throw pillow and lobs it at Josie’s head. “Leave them alone, Josie. They’re friends.” Penny places heavy, unnecessary emphasis on the word, friends. I have to roll my lips to keep from laughing.
“Mm-hmm,” Josie hums. “How many friends look at you like that?” She circles a finger around Liam’s face.
“We’re literally right here. We can hear every word you two are saying.” Liam waves a hand between the two of us.
“Oh, we know,” Josie mutters, tilting my chin up. “But it’s my job to give you shit.”
“A job you were not hired for,” Liam says dryly.
Josie is unbothered, setting out her brushes and paints. “Now, stay still so I don’t make a mess.”
She works in silence for several minutes, the tip of her brush tickling the sensitive skin of my neck. Then she moves to my lips, dragging the paint down each corner of my mouth.
“Here. Take a look.” She holds out a handheld mirror, and I take it.
Josie is an artistic genius. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the angry red marks on my neck really were vampire bites. I’d also believe the crimson streaks by my mouth are actually fresh, dripping blood.
Next, Josie instructs Liam and me to stand and face each other. While she’s talking, she opens both my palms, covering them in red paint. It’s cold on my skin, a stark contrast to how hot I’ve felt since Liam entered the room.
“We want Liam to look like he lost control,” Josie explains. “Liam, I hope that’s not a good shirt. Okay, Cassie, take your hands and run them down his chest. Really work him over.”
Blinking, I press my lips into a flat line and look at her. “Is this really necessary?”
“Yes! You want this to look realistic, don’t you?” Josie shoots me a mischievous grin. “Oh, and start at his neck, then work your way down. Don’t be shy.”
I can do this. Liam and I aren’t strangers.
We’ve touched a hundred times by now. We’ve hugged, he’s carried me, I know what it feels like to have my body close to his.
But this is different. Running my hands from his neck, down his bare, very sculpted chest feels intimate.
Like I’m marking him. And we have an audience.
To make sure we’re on the same page, I lift a brow in question. Are you good with this?
A torrent of emotion flickers behind his eyes, the same push and pull they’ve held for weeks. I’m held captive by what I see, the war waging there. But then he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and he dips his chin in a singular nod.
Stepping closer, my breath hitches as I place both hands on either side of Liam’s throat.
I can feel his frantic pulse against my painted fingers letting me know he’s not as calm as he looks.
His eyes flare, lips parting when I boldly apply pressure at the hollow of his throat, but I continue, pausing at his clavicles for a fraction of a second.
Then I drag my hands in a path over the hard, sculpted planes of his chest. The white cotton of his shirt bunches between my fingers, staining the fabric red.
Stepping back, I admire my work. It looks like a struggle, as if he caught his prey. And I think right now, I’m it.
A throat clears, snapping me out of whatever spell I’ve been under.
“Shit. That was so hot, like watching foreplay,” Josie says, fanning herself with both hands.
Penny snorts from the couch, but her cheeks are pink. “Josie, have some decorum.”
Liam remains quiet through all of this, but when his phone pings in his pocket, he pulls it out, frowns at the screen, and slides it back in his pocket.
“We should get going. Sheila said the bouncer called out tonight. Duty calls.”
I’m hit with a pang of disappointment. If Liam is bouncer tonight, that’s less time we’ll have to spend together.
The bar is already crowded when we arrive, a line forming outside.
Liam and I part at the door as he goes into bouncer mode, checking ID’s.
I head inside, overwhelmed at the sheer number of bodies packed in here.
After a lot of excuse me’s, and I’ll just squeeze between you guys, I make it to the bar where Sheila and a man I’ve only seen but not officially met are busy mixing drinks.
I make eye contact with Sheila, and she waves me over.
“Hey, doll, have you met my son here? This is Jackson.”
Jackson, yes. That’s who this is. I’ve heard Penny talk about him.
He’s one of her closest friends, and if I’m not mistaken, had a huge crush on my brother when he first arrived in Singing River.
Hell, if my brother hadn’t met Penny, I’d have punched him for not giving this man a shot.
He’s tall with light brown hair peeking from under a backward red ball cap, a deep dimple cut into one cheek.
He’s adorable, all at each customer he serves.
He hands a cocktail to a girl in a cat costume and turns to me.
“So, this is the famous Cassie James. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
He sticks out his hand and I take it. “All good, I hope.”
“Only the best. You’re all he talks about. He’s obsessed with you.”
A guy dressed as The Joker grabs his attention to place and order, and I’m left reeling.
The only he I can think Jackson could be referring to is Liam.
But obsessed with me? That feels like an exaggeration.
Then my mind goes to how he looked earlier when he first laid eyes on me in this costume, and I think, maybe? Possibly? I hope.
Without my friends here, and with Liam filling in as bouncer, I’m unsure what to do with myself. A seat at the bar opens up and before anyone else can, I grab it. I guess I’ll scroll social media to pass the time.
A new photo Penny must have just taken pops up.
Josie’s two kids, dressed up to trick or treat.
Her son looks just like her, blonde hair and blue eyes.
But when I move to her daughter, I have to do a double take.
I swear she favors me as a kid. Weird. Must be a recessive gene somewhere in Josie’s family.
Two women, a petite brunette and blonde with curves I’d kill for, squeeze in next to me to order drinks, and while they wait, I can’t help but eavesdrop.
“Did you see Liam at the door? He looks fucking hot,” the brunette says.
“Yes, girl. I have eyes. You can’t miss him. That night with him lives rent free in my mind.”
Turning slightly in my seat, I try my best to appear as though I’m not listening in.
“Oh, damn. I forgot about that!” The brunette pauses to hand over her debit card, and turns back to the blonde. “And it was just a one-time thing?”
“Sadly so. He made that very clear. We didn’t even exchange numbers.” The blonde juts out her lower lip in a pout. “I don’t even think he remembers me.”
“Okay, but that’s kinda fucked up,” her friend says. And I have to agree. I’m having a hard time reconciling this with the Liam I know.
The blonde narrows her eyes and shakes her head adamantly. “No, it wasn’t like that. We both agreed. But if I’d known it’d be that good, I think I’d have negotiated the terms.”
Brunette’s eyes widen. “That good?”
“That good, Leeann. That damn good.”
Suddenly, my whole body feels hot and I need some air. Not wanting to see Liam right now, I push through the crowd until I reach the side door at the back of the bar and fling it open. The crisp October air hits me, and I close my eyes, gulping down a lungful.
Austin was quick to let me know about Liam’s reputation. But having never seen that side myself, I think I’d convinced myself everyone was wrong about him. But overhearing that conversation just now is proof there’s at least some truth to it.
Why do I care anyway? We’re just friends.
Best friends, a voice in my head whispers.
But even the closest of friends have things they keep private.
That’s all this is, right? One more thing in Liam’s life he keeps intensely private.
So many times here lately, I can’t fight the nagging feeling I don’t know him at all.
He goes to Nashville. That, I know. He claimed there’s no one there, and I believed him.
And maybe that was the truth. Maybe it’s much closer to home than that.
A string of women from here to Nashville who get a part of Liam I’ve never known.
I’m seeing more and more that the man I’ve spent all this time with is only a carefully edited version he’s choosing to show me.
Surface-level Liam. And maybe that’s all he intends to give me.
The door beside me opens, startling me, and I half wonder if it’ll be Liam, but then a guy about my age with golden blond hair steps out, setting my senses on high alert.
Being alone with a strange man outside at night isn’t the smartest move.
But then he shoots me a friendly boy-next-door smile, and some of the tension fades.
He’s a few inches taller than me, a lean frame, like maybe he runs 5Ks for fun, and a jaw sculpted by a potter. His eyes are bright as they trace my face, and I feel my cheeks lifting into a smile.
“Are you okay? I saw you rush to the door and it looked like something was wrong. I’m Sam, by the way.” He sticks out his hand, and after a few seconds of hesitation, I take it. “I teach English at the middle school.”