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“It’s not—this isn’t—” He tilts his head back, looking up at the ceiling. “That’s not what today was about.”
“Then what was it about?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Sex isallwe’re about, Liam.” My tone is sharper than I mean it to be, but I don’t correct it. Combativeness is more comfortable than the ease we were just enveloped in. “If you’re not interested, you should probably just leave.”
“Of course I’m fucking interested.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
I take a couple of steps back until I feel the hard cinderblock wall press into the ridges of my spine. My left hand tugs my dress up until the edge of my bikini bottoms are visible.
Liam’s eyes follow the movement. It feels like my skin is lighting on fire. Like everywhere he looks leaves a trail of heat behind that catches and spreads in wild flames.
He’s warring with himself, and the conflict is clear on his face. I’m not sure what is holding him back. If it’s the rivalry or he’s worried this will mean something to me. If it’s the fact that we’re inside a stuffy art closet in Alleghany or if it’s that the afternoon we spent together felt a lot like a date.
Liam looks, but he doesn’t touch, and it pisses me off.
“You know what? Forget it. There’s a party at Chris’s tonight. I’m sure some guy there will be happy to—”
I stop talking when he kisses me. It’s difficult to form words when lips are pressed against mine.
I’ve seen Liam angry—lots of times. He doesn’t storm or rage. It’s a quiet, precise anger. When Glenmont was losing, there was always a moment—or moments—when it seemed like his tightly leashed control was going to snap.
It never did.
Right now, I think I might be witnessing it. My dress is up, and my swim bottoms are down.
There’s a strange brew of anticipation and relief—watching Liam tug down his trunks and roll on the condom. I didn’t think this would happen today—didn’t think I’d ever have the chance to have sex with him again. And I didn’t realize just how much I wanted it to until it’s right in front of me as a possibility.
He’s returning to Arlington next weekend. Then after that, he won’t be home for months. Even if we see each other on breaks or next summer, it feels like it will be different. Like some magic will have dissipated.
For now, I cling to it. Literally cling to him, savoring the sensation of him sliding inside. Liam groans as I clench around him, digging my nails into his shoulders. At first, the only sound is our heavy breathing. It fills the small space, joined by pants and moans. Liam moves faster, and I can hear the collision of our skin.
My forehead falls to his shoulder as one hand moves up from my hip to my breast. He massages the sensitive skin, spreading arousal everywhere. I nip at his neck, sucking for long enough I’ll likely leave a mark. Liam’s hands tighten their grip on me as his breaths come even faster.
I stop thinking. Stop caring. Everything is overridden by the flow of pleasure that trumps any reasoning and every response.
We stand like that—me against the wall and him inside of me—until my heart rate slows and his breath evens.
“Dammit.” He says the word once, then repeats it, this time with more vigor. “Dammit.”
I turn my head to the side, so I’m staring at unopened tubes of oil paint instead of him. “You should go.”
Liam’s breathing picks up again as he moves away from me. This time I know it’s not with pleasure and arousal.
If there’s one word in the English language I don’t understand, it’s goodbye. What’sgoodabout it? It’s an ending, and endings are never fully satisfying. Either you love something so much you never want it to end or you’re relieved it finally did. You want more or you wish there was less. There’s no relief. No happy in-between.
I also hate the word complicated. It’s a label to slap on situations we don’t want to deal with or can’t change. A catch all for the relationships that don’t fall into clear categories.
And that’s exactly what this is—a complicated goodbye.
It shouldn’t be. I could have predicted this outcome months—years—in advance. It’s not just the rivalry itself. It’s all it represents.
Sometimes people don’t end up together for stupid reasons. Because of silly miscommunications or ridiculous assumptions. But the thing with me and Liam is that our ending was written long before the beginning. There aren’t any unknown variables or surprise outcomes. It just…is what it is.
This shouldn’t feel like a loss.
