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But dammit, it feels all wrong. The wrong hands touching me. The wrong lips brushing my skin.
“Damn you, Liam,” I hiss. “You fucking broke me. Ugh.”
With a heavy sigh of resignation, I stand and walk to the mirror. I splash a bit of water on my face, then touch up my makeup before heading back out. I’m calling it a night. I’ll find Casey, tell her goodbye. I suppose I should tell Carson goodnight as well and thank him for the dance.
I barely make it two steps down the corridor when a hand wraps around my arm, snatching me down another dimly lit corridor. My knee comes up on instinct, but it’s blocked. “Nice try, Tiger Lily.”
“What are you doing?” I grit as he glares at me with fury.
“I was about to ask you the same thing. Are you playing games again, Lily? Like with Blaze? Trying to make me jealous and force my hand?”
I try to shove him off, but he doesn’t budge. “This is no game. This is what it looks like when something is over, Liam. You should know that better than anyone. You have the experience with it, remember?”
He steps back, hurt by my words. Guilt eats at me, but I shove it down. He doesn’t get to corner me like this. Doesn’t get to act as if I’m doing something wrong. What I said was a low blow, but at least he’s not in my space now. “We’re not over, Lily. We can fix this.”
The laugh that erupts from me is laced with spite and sarcasm. “Yeah. That’s why you cornered me back here, in the dark, where no one can see.” I bite back the pain I feel and project as much indifference as I can. Although, my words are anything but detached. They’re meant to hurt. “Go, Liam, before someone comes looking. We wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about us.”
I slide past him and reenter the club. Carson is waiting for me at the bar, so I head for him to tell him goodnight.
“I think I’ll head out, too,” he tells me. “I’ll walk you out.”
I nod and let him lead me through the crowd. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I see Liam’s name flash on the screen. I hit reject, but a text comes through before I can put my phone away.
Lancelot: Don’t go home with him.
My teeth grind. Why is he doing this? He’s the one that won’t give, not me.
Me: You made your choice. I’m making mine.
Maybe it’s wrong to let him believe I’m going home with him, but I don’t care. It will happen one day. He may as well get used to the idea.
Liam
I stumble into my apartment, unable to see straight. Drunk doesn’t begin to cover how inebriated I am. There are three of everything as I try to get to my room. Somehow, I make it without breaking anything and fall into my bed. I pull my phone from my pocket. I can’t even make out what I’m looking at, so I tap the green phone icon and then hit call. She’s the last person I dialed, so it’s all I need.
This time, it doesn’t go to voicemail, but she doesn’t say anything. I only hear her breathing. But I don’t need more than that. I just need her to listen.
“Please, baby, whatever you’re doing or whoever you’re with, I don’t care. Just come back to me. Please. I’ll give you whatever you want. Anything. I love you too much to let you go.”
The call ends, and I pray she heard me. That she comes.
Then, I pass out to dreams of the day I fell in love with her.
The band ended their song, all grins when they stepped away from their instruments, but none smiled wider than Angel as he gripped his bride’s face and kissed her. Celebrating couples diving into what they believed was forever wasn’t my thing. But my best friend, in a rare moment of sobriety, reminded me it would be like biting the hand that fed me, and I felt indebted to the guys. How did you say no to someone responsible for getting you away from hell?
The bartender slid a glass of bourbon across the smooth, black resin bar top. I lifted the single malt to my lips as my eyes unwillingly searched for one face. Earlier, I’d watched as she laughed with Creed Lockwood, Nichols Lockwood, half-owner of L&D Records’, son. They seemed… cozy, and for some reason, it irritated me.
I’d met Lily once, and much to my annoyance, I hadn’t been able to forget the interaction. She knocked me down a few pegs and left my mouth hanging in one brief conversation. It didn’t matter I’d been unable to keep my eyes off her that day, too, but she was too young for me. When I learned just how young, there was no way I was touching that. It didn’t matter if she claimed her experience was with men my age.
Part of me was disgusted—absolutely appalled by the thought of someone my age taking advantage of a young girl like a predator. I would rip a guy’s dick off if they thought of getting near Casey, my sixteen-year-old daughter. And I was disgusted at the thought of everything I wanted to do to her.
My gaze landed on long, dark hair hanging in waves down seductive curves that didn’t belong on someone so young, stopping just above her supple ass, made more delicious by the satin clinging to her curves.
And my goddamn dick twitched, making my teeth grind with a mix of disgust and annoyance at my body’s reaction. Too young. She was too fucking young. My daughter was two when I was her age!
My long strands slipped through my fingers as I raked my hand over them. I turned around, shut my eyes, and tried to get my physical reaction to her under control, but all I saw behind my shut lids was her perfect hourglass body, golden skin, dark eyes, and matching hair that would be perfect for pulling while I fucked her from behind.
Fuck!
