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“Cute. Sorry I’m not happy about having a strange man climb in my bed in the middle of the night.”
“Maybe if it was that guy from the party, you wouldn’t be so opposed,” I mutter under my breath.
“Excuse me?”
Shit. I didn’t mean for him to hear that.
I clear my throat awkwardly. “I saw you kissing that dude.”
“So?”
“So, clearly you aren’t that opposed to men falling into your bed.” I cross my arms in front of my chest, proud of my comeback.
Liam’s glare turns downright vicious. “You have a problem with that?”
“What?” My arms fall to my sides as I realize how that might’ve sounded. “No. Fuck no,” I add when his expression doesn’t change. “My cousin’s gay. I have zero issues with two guys together.” I think I’m fucking this up.
“What are you saying then?”
"I’m saying your problem seems specific to me, not all guys.” Yep, totally fucking up. Damn beer pong.
“The problem being how you collapsed in my bed uninvited?” His eyebrows disappear behind the hair hanging over his forehead, daring me to object.
“No. Yes. Shit.” I run a nervous hand through my hair. “You know what I mean. I think. I’m tired and a little buzzed and my words are fuzzy, but I apologized for getting confused and I meant it. Can we call a truce? At least until morning.”
His expression leads me to believe there won’t be a truce. Ever. But he must be as tired as I am since he reaches for the lamp as he huffs, “Fine. But if you snore, I will throw anything within arm’s reach at your head.”
As quietly as I can, I set my bags on the floor, grab my pillow and blanket, and fall into a deep sleep. And since my head is still intact by morning, I assume that means I didn’t snore. I also must have slept through my roommate getting up and leaving since I seem to be alone in the room, which suits me fine. It gives me time to shower and unpack, which I’m just finishing up when he gets back.
“Hey,” I say awkwardly when he comes in, that ever-present scowl visible even under the sandy blond hair that swoops low over his forehead.
“Hey.” Liam retrieves an iPad from his desk and sits on his bed.
“So, my pieces are still intact. I guess that means I didn’t keep you up?”
Over the years I've cringed countless times at my dad’s corny jokes, but apparently that's my default panic setting. I'm not sure how to feel about it either. Awkward is a new world for me.
“No,” he replies curtly as he rests the tablet on his lap and reclines against the pillows.
“Well, either something else kept you up or you’re still pissed.”
“So, you can be observant.” Liam uses his left forefinger to scroll over the screen.
“And you turn more sour by the minute, but you don't hear me complaining do you? It's called having manners. You should try it sometime.”
“This coming from the guy who insulted my sexuality.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” I point an accusing finger at him. “Besides, you insulted me first. I was merely retaliating.”
“What was the insult?” His steely gaze meets mine.
“That I ignore everything around me.”
“You practically ran me over in the hall yesterday, then fell into my bed like I wasn’t there. So, implying you’re ignorant of your surroundings is more of a fact than an insult.”
I let my hand fall to my side with a heavy exhale. “Harsh, but I see your point. Still, those were accidents. Innocent mistakes. Are you going to hold them against me forever?”
The question seems to take some of the venom out of his gaze. “And my being gay?”
