Page 12 of When It Rains He Pours

I sat quiet, unable to use my tongue. There were no words in my head, all of them lost to the sexual tension building inside me.

Is he trying to flirt with me?

“Just like your art speaks to the eye, your silence speaks to me.” His chest muscles flexed, stretching the fabric into a thin sheet. Firm pectorals were busting the seams, as thick muscles rolled up in his biceps like rocks.

My chest grew tight, belly tumbling and flipping as butterflies swarmed with frantic wings. Wriggling in the seat, I tucked my hands under my thighs as my nerves went rampant, exploding all through my body.

I was hot and cold, sizzling and turning to ice all in the same instant. Chills ran up my spine, curling fiery fingertips into my veins. My cheeks flushed, turning pink, only to cool into red frost burnt skin. The heat between my thighs pulsed, tickling the sensitive bundle of nerves.

I couldn't look at him, I wanted to, but I wanted to ground myself first. I didn't like the power he suddenly had over me, I didn't enjoy feeling like I was losing control.

Now was not the time to get all steamy eyed for this man who had kicked down my door and dragged me to safety.

But that's exactly what was happening.

Every look, every smirk and smile, it twisted my insides into knots. Liam was making me forget the pain I was feeling and replacing it with misguided lust.

What the hell is going on with me?

It's just my emotions messing with me.

I had just been cowering on the floor, riddled in uncertainty and fear. My brain was screwed up, running on adrenaline I wasn't sure what to do with it.

Those feelings of lust weren't real, they were fake. A false state of desire to erase the blackness that wanted to shadow my heart.

“Here you go,” the waitress said, snapping me back into reality. “Who's getting what?”

“Glory, which one?”

“Long Island.” My fingers nabbed the glass before she even had time to set it down. Sucking in a big gulp of alcohol, I swallowed it with a cringe. “Oo, that's strong.”

“And that's exactly what you need, something strong.” Lifting his drink in the air, he jiggled it side to side.

“What are you doing?”

“Hold up your glass.” Giving him a funny look, I did what he asked. Clinking the glasses together, he said, “To new friends, new days, and to a new future.”

The waitress passed Liam a stapler. “Put it anywhere you'd like.”

Standing up, he reached his arms high above his head, securing the bill directly over us. “Looks good,” he said, handing the stapler back and dropping down. “See, a new dollar to start a new day. It all starts right here, right now.”

Bringing the drink to my lips, the alcohol tickled my skin, making them go numb like I had just sucked on a hot pepper. “I'd love to agree, but I'm not sure where my future sits right now.”

“Trust me, you will. Things will fall into place, they always do.”

“How can you be so sure?” Veering my stare, I tipped my chin up. “You know nothing about me.”

“I know more than you think.” A wide grin spread across his face, reaching his ears. “Your art tells a story, I know your story.”

“How could you possibly know? You didn't even get a chance to see my paintings.” Laughing nervously, I fumbled with my drink.

“I've seen your work, it's amazing. I had a chance to peek in the window a few times before, but you weren't open.”

“Really?”

Nodding, Liam's bottom lip pushed out, his eyes glazing over in thought. He went some where right then, leaving me alone at the table. His eyes shone like glass, my reflection a small blip on his pupils. There was a long pause before he spoke, his breathing slow and faint.

Looking down at his hands, he ran his fingers back and forth over the table. “My mom was an artist, so I might know a few a things.”

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