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“This movie is raunchy,” Liam says a half hour into it. “Your parents allowed you to watch this?”
“They never knew,” I counter. “Lennon, Soph, and I would sneak around and put it on after they went to bed. Then once I got a DVD player in my room, I’d play it on repeat when they weren’t home.”
Liam smiles, shaking his head at me. “Such a rebel.”
I repeat another one of Johnny’s lines when he talks to Baby about his dance space and her holding frame. “I love this part.” I sigh with a grin.
“This movie is so predictable,” Liam says, still sitting close to me. “He’s teaching the ugly duckling to dance, she’s already in love with him, and he’s going to end up falling in love with her. But he’s the bad guy, and she’s the good girl, so her parents will never allow it. Some other drama will ensue and pull them apart, then he’ll make some romantic gesture, and bam, they’re back together.”
I scowl at him, narrowing my eyes at his jadedness.
“Amiright?” He smirks smugly.
“No!” I defend even though, technically, he kinda is. “How’d you know anyway? You watch a lot of romance films?”
“Only since you’ve moved in and started hogging the remote.”
“Ha-ha. I didn’t hear you complaining.” I cross my arms over my chest and wiggle deeper into the couch, moving closer to him. “Plus, you have a TV and game console in your room, so don’t even pretend you’re watching this against your will.” He rolls his eyes and stays silent, but I notice the way his gaze wanders back to me.
He’s right, though. Since I’ve moved in, we’ve sat through a lot of chick flicks and dance movies together. But he’s the one who stayed when it was on, so I’m not giving in to his fake pity party.
“He’s so gonna bang her, isn’t he?” Liam asks when Baby and Johnny drive back from their secret performance. Five minutes later, he gloats. “Yep, called it.”
I snort and smile at how much he’s getting into it now. “You’re missing the point.” I elbow him. “Just watch.”
“Music’s pretty dope,” he says with twenty minutes left. Baby just confessed that she spent the night with Johnny when he’s accused of stealing from the guests. “She’s Like the Wind” starts playing, and my eyes tear up when he leaves.
“Pretty dope?” I gasp. “The album won like a million awards! I can’t believe how uncultured you are!”
“Pfft. I’m plenty cultured. Just because I haven’t memorized some songs from a dance movie doesn’t mean anything.”
I pat his shoulder and snicker. “Okay, Hulk. Whatever you say.”
Before I can stop him, Liam has me pinned on my back with my arms over my head. He’s towering over me, smirking like the devil himself.
“Are you patronizing me? Is that condescension I hear?” He grins, and I know my cheeks are flushed.
Securing my wrists with one hand, he moves his other hand down. Liam’s face splits into a grin as he lowers himself, and my gaze falls to his lips. His weight feels so good as he settles between my thighs. My heart pounds harder in my chest, and for a moment, our eyes lock.
“Maybe a little,” I finally answer, hoping he can’t hear how my breath hitches.
“Well, I’ll have you know, I’m well-versed where it counts.” Then the asshole digs his fingers under my arm, making my body jump and thrash underneath him.
“Oh my God!” I fucking hate being tickled, but the bastard laughs as he continues and tightens his grip on my wrists. “Liam! You’re gonna make me pee myself!”
“Oh, yeah?” He pops a brow, then moves his hand to my other side and tickles me there.
His evil grin deepens, and as much as I want to hate him for torturing me, I also don’t want him to stop touching me.
“Okay, okay,” I breathe out, trying to maneuver my body away from his fingers. “I take it back. You’re cultured!”
Liam chuckles, shaking his head at me. “You’re a horrible liar.”
“Well, you know all my sensitive spots so…” I say, laughing my way through the words, not realizing the effect they have until Liam stops and stares at me.
He brings his hand up to my face and brushes his finger along my flushed cheek. I’m still breathing hard as his eyes linger from my eyes to my mouth. I want him to kiss me, but after begging him on my birthday, I promised myself I wouldn’t do that again. If he wants to, he needs to be the one to make the move this time.
“I should call it a night. I have to finish packing,” he says as if it pains him.
Blinking, my heart races as he peels himself off me, and I immediately miss his warmth.
“Wait,” I tell him, sitting up and grabbing his hard bicep. “It’s almost over; you can’t miss the final dance!”
