Page 5 of Don't Puck His Best Friend
“You know,” he says, his voice lower now, “you’ve been giving me every reason to leave you alone since I walked over here.”
“Maybe you should take the hint.”
“But here’s the thing, Harper with no last name.” He leans in slightly, and I can feel the warmth radiating off his body. “I can’t stop thinking about how much fun it would be to ignore all of them.”
My pulse is racing now, and I’m pretty sure he can tell. This is the moment where I should make my excuses and actually find Maddie. This is where I should stick to my guns and walk away from the gorgeous, charming hockey player who is definitely going to be nothing but trouble.
Instead, I hear myself saying, “What exactly are you suggesting?”
His smile turns slightly wicked. “Nothing too scandalous. Just... ditch this party with me. Go somewhere we can actually hear each other.”
“That sounds suspiciously like a line.”
“Maybe. Does it matter if it’s working?”
I want to say yes, it matters. I want to tell him that I don’t do casual hookups with anyone I just met. I want to stick to my rules and protect my heart and go home to my romance books and live vicariously through those because it’s safe.
But I’m tired of being safe. I’m tired of hiding. And there’s something about Liam Murphy, something beyond the obvious physical attraction, that makes me want to be reckless for once in my carefully controlled life.
So instead of saying any of the sensible things I should say, I down the rest of my wine and look him straight in the eye.
“Fine,” I say, feeling bold and terrified and electric all at once. “One night. No promises, no expectations, no awkward goodbyes.”
His smile could light up the world. “Deal.”
I pull out my phone to text Maddie that I’m leaving, and when I look up, Liam is watching me with an expression I can’t quite read. There’s heat there, definitely, but something else too. Something that looks almost like surprise.
“Having second thoughts?” I ask.
“Never.” He holds out his hand. “Ready to get out of here?”
I look at his outstretched hand, knowing that taking it is probably the worst decision I’ve made in months. Knowing that tomorrow I’ll probably regret whatever happens.
But tonight? Tonight I’m tired of being careful.
I take his hand.
2
The Hookup
Harper
TheinteriorofLiam’struck is surprisingly clean for a college boy’s vehicle. No empty energy drink cans rolling around on the floor, no mysterious stains on the seats, just the faint scent of leather and whatever cologne he’s wearing that’s been driving me slowly insane all night. City lights slide across the dashboard as we drive through downtown, the music low enough that I can hear the rumble of the engine beneath us.
“So,” I say, because the silence is starting to feel too loaded, “where exactly are we going?”
“My place.” He glances over at me, one hand relaxed on the steering wheel. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”
“Just checking that you’re not a serial killer who lures unsuspecting women to abandoned warehouses.”
“Nah, that’s more of a Tuesday thing for me. Tonight I’m just a regular guy taking a beautiful woman back to his apartment.”
I roll my eyes even as my stomach does that traitorous flutter thing. “I’m already in the truck with you. There’s no need for the sweet talk.”
His grin is quick and devastating. “Who says I’m sweet talking? Maybe I’m just stating facts.”
“Fact: you probably say that to all the girls.”
