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25
While Liam didn’t treat me the same way as Kyle had, and it was obvious that he was attracted to me, I couldn’t help wondering if I was an experiment to him. And I could’ve probably dealt with that, had fun with him with no strings, if my stupid fucking feelings weren’t trying to get involved. If I let myself get any deeper, I could end up hurt. Both of us could end up hurt, in fact, and I knew that neither of us wanted that.
So now I had to figure out how to treat him like I didn’t want to jump on his cock and to work out whether I wanted to carry on fooling around with him. To do that, I needed time and space away from him.
I wrote myself a set of rules.
Rule one: Don’t spend time alone with him
Actually, that was my one and only rule. If I wasn’t alone with him, then I couldn’t be tempted to do anything.
But fuck, that one rule was a lot harder to follow than I thought it would be when I wanted Liam so badly.
“Tate Modern. Who’s up for it? Noah? Liam? Damon?” Travis appeared in the doorway of the lounge with Ander peering over his shoulder.
“Uh, why the fuck would I want to waste my time walking around looking at shit excuses for art?” Damon pulled a face. “Count me out.”
Ander rounded Travis’ side, stepping into the room. “You’re so uncultured. Art is subjective, you know.”
“Since when were you into modern art? Or any art, for that matter?” On the sofa across from me, Liam narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What’s going on?”
“Good question, mate. The answer is…” Ander paused dramatically. “Girls.”
Travis leaned against the door frame, smirking. “What he’s trying to say is that Kira has to go to the Tate to take some photos for her photography coursework, and some of her friends are tagging along.”
“Yeah, what he said. Liam? Gotta have my partner in crime.” Ander grinned at Liam, and I tried very, very hard to keep a neutral expression on my face.
I could feel Liam’s eyes flick to me, but I kept my gaze on Travis and Ander. When I heard Liam agree to go with them, I found myself opening my mouth. “I’ll give this one a miss. Thanks for the invite, though.” There was no way I wanted to subject myself to girls throwing themselves at Liam or, worse, him throwing himself at girls.
“No.” Travis was suddenly standing right in front of me. “You’re coming. You’re new to London; you haven’t been to the Tate Modern before. Right?”
“Uh. No, I haven’t. But I’m fine here with Damon,” I assured him with a shrug, going for casual.
“You don’t like art?” He stared at me, his brows raised. “When you currently reside in a city with over fifteen hundred permanent exhibition spaces? That’s just a waste.”
“He got that fact from me.” Kira appeared next to Travis, and he wrapped his arm around her waist.
“It’s not that I don’t like art. It’s—”
“Noah, come with us. Please.” Travis was eyeing me expectantly, and I sighed. It didn’t look like he was taking no for an answer.
“Okay. Fine. I’ll come.”
* * *
We’d only been in the gallery for around ten minutes, and I was already regretting my decision to come. I hung back, trying and failing not to notice the way one of Kira’s friends was hanging off Liam’s arm, giggling and pointing up at one of the exhibits, a circular tower of radios that stretched almost all the way to the ceiling. A shot of pain arrowed through me. I told myself I had no right to feel jealous. But it hurt all the same.
“Travis.” I lightly tapped his arm. “I’m going to check out another floor. Meet you later?”
He gave me a brief nod. “Okay, mate. Text me when you’re done, and I’ll let you know where we are.”
As I made my way out of the exhibition space, I saw Liam gently disentangle himself from the girl with a smile that I could tell was fake. He spun around, and his eyes met mine, widening almost imperceptibly, but by then, I was already slipping out of the room.
I walked blindly through the gallery until I reached the escalators and took them all the way down to the lowest level. It was much quieter in this section, with only a few small groups around, and I took a moment to stop, leaning against a concrete wall.
“Fascinating, isn’t it?”
“Huh?” I jolted, straightening up to see a guy around my age, maybe a little older, with wavy reddish-brown hair and an easy smile on his face.
