Page 32 of I Can't Even

“So, what are you wearing?”

“And now we’re done.” I opened the refrigerator and debated pouring myself a glass of white wine to help my nerves.

“No, no, you can’t leave me hanging. Just give me a hint! Are you going for casual or slutty? I vote for slutty by the way.”

Panic surged through me. I hadn’t even thought that far ahead. I glanced down at my jean capris and bohemian blouse. Liam had already had his way in this outfit, probably, I should mix it up, but in what? I really was a blue jeans and T-shirt sort of gal, raising my game was going to require, oh, damn, I probably needed to shave my legs.

“I have to go,” I said.

Jessie laughed. “You’re freaking out now.”

“No, I’m not,” I fibbed, again. “Do you think a dress is too much?”

Jessie’s voice was soft. “No, I think that’s perfect.”

“Thanks, Jessie,” I said. “Love you.”

“Love you more.”

I ended the call. My palms grew sweaty, my heart raced, and for a minute I couldn’t remember my name. It took three laps of pacing around the house, a half glass of wine, and a long hot shower to get my nerves if not steady at least marginally under control. Since I didn’t own a dress, I borrowed Soph’s blue one, again, along with a pair of strappy silver sandals that would put me eye-to-nose level with Liam. I felt it might balance the power in the room.

Ha! Who was I kidding? He had all of the power. I had none. I was weak-willed and pathetic when it came to Liam Mahony, as this afternoon at his coffee shop had proven. The only thing that allowed me any dignity at all was that Liam seemed just as powerless against the pull between us.

Since Liam hadn’t given me a specific time to expect him, I assumed he’d arrive sometime around six o’clock which, according to my hyper focus on all things Liam, was when he usually arrived home to work out.

Soph wouldn’t arrive until late, as she planned on staying with her family until they went to bed to get all her time in with the twins before their epic adventure. There was still no sign of Em, however. I texted her to let her know Liam was coming over but didn’t really expect a reply since she was most likely still angry with me and Soph, and the news that Liam was dropping by wasn’t going to win her over; if anything, she’d probably be even more peeved with me.

I was in my room, checking my reflection for the fiftieth time, not an exaggeration, when the doorbell chimed. With a quick glance around for anything out of place I spied a sock under the bed and tossed it in the closet, which was a total time warp. Seriously, it was exactly like when we’d stolen moments together in high school when Babs was out of the house.

I raced down the stairs with my dress billowing around my knees. I felt very feminine and for a second, I considered wearing more dresses and then I was at the door. I yanked it open without checking to see who was on the other side. I didn’t need to—even through three inches of solid oak I could feel the tension, the awareness, the longing inside of me that only Liam could conjure. It spiked to a fever that flared as I took in the sight of Liam Mahony standing on my front stoop.

His dark brown hair was in its usual disarray, as if he hadn’t combed it since I’d had my fingers burrowed in it that afternoon. He wore a fitted short-sleeve, pale-blue button-up shirt that made him seem even more muscled than when he was shirtless, dark jeans, and brown leather Vans. He smelled like aftershave. I wasn’t the only one who’d put in some effort for this evening.

His arms were crossed over his chest and his sexy gaze took in my loose curls, pausing for several heartbeats at my lips, then slowly slid down my curves, all the way to my delicate sandals and then back up until his eyes met and held mine.

“I like the dress,” Liam said. “Take it off.”

Chapter Eleven

Heat flared inside of me and I grabbed Liam by the shirtfront and pulled him into the house, slamming the door shut behind him.

That was the last move I got to make. Liam had me pressed up against the wall with his mouth on mine, his fists in my hair, his hips locking me in place before I even had a chance to take a breath.

“You look the same, you feel the same, you even smell the same,” he growled in my ear. “After all this time, how is that possible?”

I would have said the same about him, but he didn’t give me a chance as his mouth came back to mine. His lips were fierce as if staking a claim, making my heart thump hard in my chest while I kissed him back. I wanted him to know how much I had missed him, this, us.

“Liam,” I said his name on an exhale that sounded an awful lot like surrender. It was. In those moments, I would have given him anything and judging by the look in his eyes, he knew it.

“Tell me that you want this,” he demanded. He ran his lips down my throat to nuzzle at the neckline of my dress.

I arched up against his mouth, desperately wanting more. I whispered, “I do.”

I felt him smile against my skin as he tugged down the neckline of my dress. His fingers dipped inside and he pinched the already hardened peak of one breast. My head fell back against the wall and I groaned. As if this encouraged him even further, he hooked my bra cup with one finger and yanked it down. He put his mouth on me and it felt as if my nipple was hot-wired to the pulsing throb directly between my legs.

“So good,” I murmured.

He purred against my skin and then he tugged my clothes back into place. I blinked at him, registering the loss of his wet mouth right before he pulled me away from the wall and guided me toward the stairs.

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