Chapter 1 #2
A familiar voice slides down my spine, the slight rasp caressing my skin like a touch that is both barely there and all consuming.
Scratching an itch I didn’t realize I had.
Goosebumps slowly fade in the same way his voice does from my ears.
I relax, taking a moment to appreciate the pressure of his hand against my back.
It’s the most intimate touch I’ve had in months, and while I shouldn’t enjoy it, I’m looking for an escape from the intrusive thoughts of my ex.
What better way than with my brother’s devastatingly dreamy, totally off-limits best friend?
“The shot, not the drink,” Liam clarifies to the bartender before turning his signature half smile in my direction as he slips his credit card across the countertop. “If I had to wager a guess, I’d bet there’s tequila in that shot glass. I can’t think of a better way to start the night off.”
Back home, Nate and I own a bar, named 10-42, that Liam frequents enough that the barstool he claims should have his name permanently etched in it. I’ve sat next to it more than a handful of times, drowning sorrows, or toasting celebrations, always with a shot of tequila.
“Your guess would be correct,” I tell him, my voice falling flat, even to my ears.
While he waits for his shot, I glance down at my forgotten phone when I feel it buzz. Hailey again. Swallowing a sigh, I flip the device over, grabbing my Long Island to take a long pull from the straw. Tonight is not about wallowing, it’s about celebrating.
My companion doesn’t make it easy. “You wanna talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” I ask as casually as possible, but I know I’m not fooling Liam.
His hand slides from my back as he turns his body to face me, leaning an arm against the chair beside where I stand. “Jor, you’ve got two smiles. The one that reaches your eyes, and the one that doesn’t. You’re wearing the latter.”
When I glance at him, only the corner of his mouth is turned up, and it’s adorable as hell.
I can understand why he’s a ladies’ man.
In fact, if Liam isn’t doing the cute look, he’s doing the smoldering, sexy as hell thing, with the lightest brown eyes I’ve ever seen.
I may have two smiles, but the man has those two expressions on lock.
If it weren’t for a promise I made Nate in high school, I would have been a willing participant to Liam’s charms years ago.
“C’mon,” he nudges my bare arm. “You’re in the city of sin. You can do anything you want. Gamble, drink, fuck. That should light you up.”
Laughter bubbles up from my chest. “Is that what you plan on doing?”
He gives me a noncommittal shrug, but the half-smile tells me all I need to know. “You don’t?”
“I—well—” When I stumble over my words, he laughs. I suppose I did plan on gambling a little, drinking a lot, and finding someone to shower me with attention. Whether that led to sleeping with anyone was yet to be seen. Picking my shot up, I hold it out to cheers. “Take your damn shot.”
“Ah, therapy first. Good idea.”
“Therapy?”
Liam nods at the shots, a tuft of his wavy dark hair falling onto his forehead as he clinks his against mine. “Liquor and sex. Best therapy out there.” This time I get a full grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Pretty sure sex between us is off the table, though, so liquor will have to do.”
But how I wish it wasn’t off the table.
Having been around Liam for the last ten years, I’ve learned a thing or two. Allowing a comment like that to make me blush, or turn away, will only encourage him—which at times I’ll admit to doing. The best way to deal with Liam King is to meet him head on.
Especially when he looks like sex personified in his dark denim jeans and black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
The forearms on that man? Goodness gracious.
I’ve caught myself staring often when his muscles flex naturally.
Picking up a drink. Lifting something heavy.
Handing off a patient in the emergency department where I work.
Oh god, and when he’s the one in charge of the grill at one of the many barbeques my brother hosts? Heaven help me.
This man could definitely set my panties on fire.
Tilting my chin up, one dark eyebrow lifts sensually. “Like you said, it’s the city of sin,” I say, and throw my head back as I take my shot.
The liquor burns down my throat, but it’s nothing compared to the heat I feel against my skin as Liam’s body inches closer. Meeting his darkened eyes, I realize my tactic has urged him on, causing my belly to flip with anticipation.
“Don’t tempt me, Little Fireball,” he cautions, his low voice reverberating down my spine.
The nickname he’s used in private for years both flusters and excites me. The product of a night of partying and multiple shots of Fireball that ended in him carrying me to my bed after a barbeque hosted by Nate.
The little comes and goes. Ironic since Liam isn’t a giant—he’s maybe five-ten—but with a powerful, muscled body that he keeps in shape, I feel like a speck of dust beside him. There’s no doubt in my mind he would be able to throw me around. A fantasy I’ve enjoyed more than once.
With his eyes on me the entire time, he takes his shot, setting his glass next to mine on the bar. Then, with a deliberate step away from me, one half of his mouth turns up and lightness fills his eyes before he turns towards the bar to collect his card. The moment is over like so many other times.
It’s been back and forth between us for months.
Years, truly. Though while I was with Paul, things were more subtle.
But since becoming single—and staying single—the flirting, and the moments like this, between Liam and me, have been on steroids.
As long as Nate isn’t around. There’s an unspoken rule between us that we are nothing but normal around my brother.
“See, that’s the one that reaches your eyes,” Liam notes with satisfaction.
Looking away, a blush blooms across my cheeks. I didn’t even realize I was smiling, but sure enough I’m grinning so wide I probably look like a fool. It falls off my face as I glance down at my phone, thoughts of Paul being engaged creeping back in.
It shouldn’t matter. Paul getting married shouldn’t make any difference to me. And in the grand scheme of things I understand that. Logically, I realize being upset is a waste of energy. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel horrendous.
I feel unworthy. I feel like I’m not good enough. Like maybe I’ll never be good enough for anyone. Maybe Paul saw that I was undeserving of love, and that’s why he cheated on me. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to move on.
Damn it, don’t you dare cry, I tell myself as tears sting my eyes. I refuse to shed one more tear because of that man. You’re a knockout, remember? Start acting like it.
“Jor?” Liam’s voice penetrates my thoughts. It’s quiet and careful, like he’s suddenly worried about what he’s stepped into, but there’s also a gentleness to it that can’t be faked. That I’ve only ever heard him use with me.
“Is there something wrong with me?” The words are out before I give them permission to be in the world, and I wish I could take them back. They’re needy and desperate. Closing my eyes, my heart races. I hate that I asked. Hate that I’m terrified of the answer.
Liam is incredulous. I can sense it as his body shifts next to me. “Wrong with you?”
“Yes.” The word is hardly a breath.
“Is this a trick question? You’re kidding me, right?” Laughter full of disbelief follows. “Jordan, you’re the sexiest woman on the casino floor, and no one else is even close. Before I knew it was you, you were the one I zeroed in on.”