“It fucking matters,” I growl and grab the back of her head, pulling her in for a deep kiss.
She falls into me, pushing me back against the dresser. Calypso clings to me, using her body to tell me everything she can’t verbalize. My other hand slides to her lower back, bringing us even closer. She doesn’t have a lot of space to stretch in her tight dress but she goes for my zipper anyway. I stop her and her gaze flies up to mine.
“I’m not fucking you,” I tell her. “Not right now.”
She looks hurt. “I didn’t realize you were such a stickler about public sex.”
She’s referring to the night on the yacht.
I snort. “I’m not, and I’d hardly call this ‘public.’ I don’t want you to regret ever being intimate with me, and I’m worried you will right now.”
She pulls back but not out of my arms. Just enough to look at me.
She’s contemplating if she would, and I can see when the realization hits her.
Not at her sister’s wedding. Not as some form of distraction from what happened earlier.
She nods. “I—er, I…”
“Don’t apologize,” I say. Her shoulders deflate in relief but there’s newfound curiosity. “I’d rather be the person you’re angry with than the one you’re ignoring.”
She bites her lip. “I wasn’t angry with you,” she says in a small voice. “Just—ateverything.”
I nod and lift her chin with my thumb. “I can take it.”
Neither of us says anything else. We both know we need to go back downstairs. Not only would Calypso not want to miss anything, but it’s a small wedding. Our absence won’t go unnoticed for long.
We can talk about it more later.
At home.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Calypso
My blood is still pumping, looking for a fight. It feels even better knowing that Liam will let me have it right back. He wasn’t even angry with me, at least not until I insinuated he doesn’t really care about me. It was infuriating that he stood there so pacifying; I wanted him to break. Just for a second.
God, I could have kept going, too.
He’s as good at calming me down as he is at firing me up.
As we walk through the door, I messily drop my heels on the wood floor. Liam hates that.
He’s never said it because henevergets on me for being less tidy than him. He’s always just cleaning up when something bothers him.
Liam sighs, realizing I did it to piss him off. I hear him pick them up and set them on the little bench in the foyer.
“So, we’re still fighting?” he asks.
I fill up my glass of water and turn toward him. “A kiss isn’t a resolution. You can’t use it to shut me up.”
He rolls his eyes and I think I’m really getting to him now.
Good.
“Alright. What’s your response, then?”
My brows furrow. “What are you talking about?”
