20. Liam
20
LIAM
I wake up in my bed.
Alone.
The sun breaks through my window, unusually bright. I normally close my blackout curtains to sleep through the morning, but last night… well, last night was different.
Unexpected. Amazing. The best sex of my fucking life.
When I watched Whitney dancing at the club, I could hardly contain my hard-on. I saw that arsehole put his hands on her, and I almost lost it; I wanted to knock him out right there on the dance floor. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest, an unexpected burst of lust rushing through me. But then I saw her face, and the way she looked up at me with such an open expression of desire and… trust.
I couldn’t help myself. I needed her. Needed to possess her, to own her. To taste her.
I should’ve walked away. Should’ve walked through that door and gone straight to my room. But I couldn’t. Any ounce of self-control I had left inside me has dissipated entirely. And now that I know what she tastes like? That she’s sexy and sweet and everything in-between? I’m screwed.
And now… she’s gone.
She did say it would be a one-time thing.
Fuck. What the hell was I thinking? In the moment, it felt like the right thing to agree with her terms. Honestly, I would have agreed to anything. I figured we’d get it out of our system, like she said, but now that I know what she tastes like, what she feels like when I’m buried deep inside her… I need it again.
And again, and again, and again.
Shit.
I crane my head, listening for any trace of her in the apartment. What if she’s here? How am I supposed to act? As embarrassing as it is to admit, Whitney’s the closest thing I have to a friend these days, and I don’t want us sleeping together to ruin things between us. I’ve come to actually enjoy her company.
Suppressing a sigh, I roll out of bed. It’s not like I expected her to hang around and share her innermost secrets, but I’d at least thought… I don’t know. I don’t know what the hell I thought would happen in the morning. I wasn’t thinking that far ahead, but I sure as hell didn’t think she’d just sneak off in the middle of the night like it meant nothing.
Doesn’t it?
I crack open my door, glancing down the hall. Not a peep. She must be gone. I tiptoe into the kitchen, trying not to make a sound as I make my coffee.
With a sigh, I slip my phone out of my pocket and scroll down my contacts until I find Tim, an old friend of Luke’s and mine from uni. Last I heard, he was working for QuestBridge, the scholarship organization. He’s probably the only person I know who can help me out with Luke’s foundation. Is a phone call aggressive? Nobody calls anymore, but I hate texting, and I don’t want him to blow me off.
Shaking my head, I press the call button. A few rings later, Tim picks up.
“Hello?”
“Tim? It’s Liam Clark, from uh… Columbia. I don’t know if you remember me, but?—”
“Liam! Of course I remember you, mate. ”
I suppress an eye roll. At least he remembers who I am.
“What’s up? I heard you were still at Columbia getting your masters?”
I really should have thought this through before I called him. “Yeah, erm, it’s a bit of a long story, but listen — are you still working at QuestBridge?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I actually just got promoted.”
“That’s great.” I hesitate, then take a deep breath. “Any chance you’re free this week to grab a coffee or a pint? I kind of want to pick your brain about something.”
“For sure. I’m free this afternoon. Want to meet me at Juniper Bar near Penn Station? It’s right around the corner from my office.”
“Sure, that works.”
“4pm?”
“Yep,” I agree easily.
“Great, see you then! Thanks for calling. You’re old school, man. I like that about you.”
“Sure,” I say, and we chat for a bit before hanging up.
I guess that went well, all things considered. He remembered me, and he agreed to meet with me. I’m one step further than I was yesterday, and that’s something. Now all I have to do is… everything.
That is if I can manage to stop thinking about the sounds my roommate — no, my wife — makes when she comes.
I get to Juniper Bar at 3:50. I’m never early, but I want to give Tim a good second impression of me, since most of his first involved me chugging beers and getting into fights. Chalk it up to college, I suppose. I sit at the bar and order a Guinness while I wait. A few minutes later, Tim comes into the door in a button down and slacks. He’s as tall as I remember, his blonde hair slicked back. I wave in his direction, and he smiles when he sees me, crossing to meet me at the bar.
“Liam!” He reaches in for a hug, patting me on the back before we break apart and he settles in next to me with a light smile on his face. “How are you?”
I nod, taking a sip of my beer. “Alright, yeah. You?”
“Good, good.”
The bartender comes over and Tim orders a Stella, then he turns to me. “So, what’s up?”
Right down to business, then.
I rub my hand down the back of my neck. “I know my call was probably a bit out of the blue. I don’t know if you heard, but… my roommate, Luke… he, uh… ”
Tim clasps a hand on my shoulder. “I heard. I’m so sorry, man. I couldn’t make it to the funeral, but?—”
“Don’t worry about it.” I take a generous gulp of my pint, hoping to wash down the grief along with it. “So, Luke had this whole plan that I just found out about. He wanted to start his own organization to help first generation and low-income students get access to higher education.”
“Wow. I always thought he was a science nerd like you.”
I slip the binder out of my backpack and hand it over to him. “He was a business double major. Here, you can look through it.”
He opens the binder and flips through the pages, his eyes studying the business plan. I take another sip of my drink while I wait for him to finish.
“Looks cool,” he says, handing the binder back to me.
“Yeah, well… I’m going to do it. For Luke. I’m going to start this foundation.”
He nods. “Starting something like that from scratch is going to be a huge undertaking. You might be better off just finding a job with an existing organization or donating some money if this is something you care about.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to just donate to some national organization. This was Luke’s dream.”
“But Luke is gone, man. What’s your dream?”
I blink.
My dream?
Flashes from my past assault me. Eight years old, Doctor Strange comics tucked under my pillow so I could read them after my dad put me to bed. Play-chemistry sets with plastic beakers that I’d fill with water and food coloring. Late nights in the lab, feeling the rush of a new discovery. I wanted to be a scientist for as long as I could remember.
I shake my head, blinking back the memories. “That doesn’t matter.”
Tim shrugs. “Well, if you’re committed to this, I’ll try to help you out. I’m going to this gala on Friday night, lots of big wigs in the educational field. Definitely some folks you could schmooze for donations. My friend Rebecca will be there. She was the Director of Development at the Bill Gates Foundation, so she should have some advice for you.”
“That would be great. Thank you.”
He waves his hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll send you the info. It’s black-tie.”
“Great,” I say, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
“You got a girlfriend? Boyfriend?”
I wrinkle my brow. “Why does that matter?”
He shrugs. “Helps to have someone on your arm at these things.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s mostly me being selfish. I always bring Emily, and she never has anyone to talk to.”
“Well, yeah. I’m married,” I say. “Just this year, actually.”
“Congratulations!” He glances down at my left hand. “No ring?”
Shit.
Trying to school my expression into one of realization, I slip my hand into my pocket. I got Whitney a ring at that pawn shop, but I don’t have one myself. It’s never really come up before.
“I had a medical thing a few days ago, forgot to put it back on. Anyway, I’ll see if she can make it.”
Me and Whitney? At a black-tie gala?
This should be good.