Taryn #2
“I hear you. You don’t want to get married. Understood.” He shakes his head. “Doesn’t change the fact that this engagement is happening. But, um, thanks for letting me know how you feel about it.” He shrugs again.
I can only imagine the shade of red my face is turning. I may have been this angry before, but I honestly can’t think of when.
Liam sighs. He crosses his arms over his chest and I can’t help but notice the way his biceps flex with the movement.
“Look. I wasn’t thrilled when my father first mentioned marriage to me, so I get it.
I really do. But I think we can make this work.
” His eyes take in my features. “We can figure this out.” He looks so damn sincere.
“The only thing I want to figure out,” I hiss, “is how we can get out of this.”
Liam’s head rears back in surprise. “Get out of this? Well, that’s certainly a new take. Do you have any idea of how that could possibly happen?”
My face falls. “No. Not exactly. But it’s not like I’ve had much time to think about it.”
He nods at this. “Okay. So if you think of something, you’ll let me know. Sound good?”
What? I have obviously had too much to drink. Because…that’s it? That’s all he has to say? Is he mocking me? I can’t tell. “Aren’t you going to think of something?”
He shrugs again. It’s infuriating. “I can try if you want me to.”
“Well, obviously I want you to.” Is he that dense? Does syphilis eat brain cells?
“Taryn.” His voice has grown deeper. Serious. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Liam serious before. “I promise to give this some thought, okay? But our engagement is being announced tomorrow night, so I don’t want you to get your hopes up. Honestly, I’m not a terrible guy to be stuck with.”
I shiver and he frowns at the motion.
“Do you have plans tomorrow?” His eyes are studying my face. I have no idea what he’s looking for.
“You mean other than being forced into an engagement?”
He huffs out a laugh. “Can I take you to breakfast? We should get to know each other. Maybe after you’ve slept off the alcohol.”
The nerve of this guy. “I’m not sure that being sober is going to help this situation, but sure. We can brainstorm ways to get out of this.” I’m singularly focused on ending this nonsense.
He has the audacity to look amused. “Brainstorm.” It’s like he’s turning the word over in his mind. “Yeah. Okay. For now, how about I take you home?” He reaches a hand toward me.
“I don’t need a ride.” I back myself against the supply shelves in an attempt to put space between us.
“You aren’t leaving with Sam.” Jesus. He sounds so sure of himself. If arrogance were an Olympic sport, Liam McGuiness would win gold. The sad part is how good he’d look doing it.
Ugh. I shrug off the thought as I bristle. “Already telling me what to do?” I hate this. I may even hate him.
His eyes narrow. He takes a step closer to me so he’s almost breathing my air. My God. Was he always this large of a guy? There’s nowhere for me to go. “About this? Yes.”
I scoff. Raise my chin. I don’t know why he even cares. It’s not like anyone knows we’re engaged. Although, I’m sure his friends are all aware, like mine are. God. This sucks.
“You think it’s going to look bad if I leave with him?”
I can’t place the look that crosses his face. “Sure. That reason works.”
What?
“Let me take you home.” He leans closer. His hands grab the shelves on either side of my head. Fuck. His eyes are so blue. Intense.
I’m about to respond when my phone pings. It’s a text from Stephanie, asking where I am. Apparently, Matteo and his cousin have pronounced the evening is over.
“My friends are leaving now.” I hold up my phone to indicate the text, grateful for the barrier I’ve placed between us.
I wave it like a shield. “I’ll get a ride with them.
” I should insist on doing whatever the hell I want, but I don’t have it in me to argue.
I’m starting to get a headache. I want to go home, curl up in my bed, and figure out a way out of this entire nightmare.
He nods before taking a step back. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning then. Nine o’clock.”
“And, we’ll talk about how we can get out of this?”
His face is solemn. The serious expression looks weird on him. “Yes. I promised you I’d give it some thought.”
I nod at this before scrambling around him to put my hand on the supply closet doorknob. I’m almost away from him when I feel his hand on my shoulder. He brushes my hair away from my neck.
“Be careful going home.” His front is against my back. Jesus. He smells good. That’s probably why Barbie was trying to crawl on top of him. I shake my head at my drunk musing. “Drink some water.”
I consider making a snarky comment about how he probably has great insight into drunk girls and hangover cures when his lips brush against my ear.
“Everything will be okay, Taryn. I promise.”
My body trembles against him and I force myself to walk through the door, back into the pulsing energy of the club.
His words play over and over in my mind as Stephanie sings on our way home.
Despite my friends, despite the silliness in the car, I can’t shake the feeling that nothing will ever be okay again.