Page 21 of Veiled in Brick

“You fucked her, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know I’d be seein’ her almost every goddamn day, okay?” he finally confessed.

“Liam,” I groaned. “She goes to your school—”

“I know,” he whined. “I tried to tell her it was a one-time thing.”

I found myself sitting straighter at his tone of voice, and a potential message between the lines struck me.

“Don’t tell me you fucked her more than once.”

“No,” he responded quickly, taking his legs off of the coffee table and turning to face me with a single index finger held out. “I didn’t, thank you very much—”

“What did you mean you tried to tell her it was a one-time thing, then?” I pressed him, and he curled his finger back into his fist, placing his hand in his lap.

“She’s just…pushy.”

I knew the type. I squinted at his response.

“She offered to blow you?” I asked, an undercurrent of hope that I was wrong rushing underneath my skin. Liam wriggled in his seat uncomfortably and drank from his beer. I assumed aloud, “She did blow you?”

“I stopped her after like the third time.”

I gagged loudly, the image of some sort of a goddess on her knees sucking him off to completion making my stomach coil.

“LIAM!”

He groaned at my reaction and covered his face with his left hand in shame, asking from behind his fingers, “Can we not talk about this?”

“How are you so goddamn bad at hookup culture?” I questioned aloud. “You don’t want to have a relationship with a girl, tell her to fuck off and move on.”

“I can’t just do that.” Liam let his hand fall away from his eyes, and his cheeks were beet red. “She’ll go away eventually—and you’re one to fuckin’ talk; you got roses sent to you this morning.”

I snorted at his comment. “Don’t you see that they’re gone?”

“I do see that,” he noted happily. “Did ya call Jay and let him down easy, or what?”

I pointed the tip of my cider bottle at him. “Crisis averted; they weren’t from Jay. Random delivery, think they had the wrong address—so no. I did not.”

I felt my smile stretch across my face at the mention of it all, and Liam’s dark eyes took in my expression carefully.

He quietly asked me the same question that I had uttered to him just moments ago, “What did you do?” I beamed in response, and his face contorted as he groaned loudly, “Zoey! Again?”

“I had a great morning,” I admitted. “What’s the problem?”

“The problem?” he asked.

“With James.”

Liam shrugged. “What do you want me to say, Zo’?”

“Okay, seriously, what is it?” I tilted my head to the side curiously. “What’s your deal with James?”

“Look,” he started, setting his beer down on the coffee table in front of him and looking at me with a purpose, “you’re my best friend, okay?”

I grinned gently at him. Our friendship had been a quick one, to say the least. We had been getting along just fine as acquaintances after we decided to befriend each other about half a year ago. Well, we had been getting along better than fine, to be honest. Liam and I are just too similar of people to not be friends. The memory of the metaphorical bond of our friendship being sealed with glue came to my mind at his admission and, suddenly, I was far down a nostalgia trip that I typically tried to avoid.

I woke to a strange noise coming from God knows where. Unbeknownst to me, I had fallen fast asleep on Liam’s couch while we were watching television. Despite being comfortable and sunken into his couch with a blanket that he had clearly laid over me when he had gone to bed, I propped myself up on my elbows to try to listen again for the sound that had woken me.

---