Page 9 of Because of Liam

Chapter Six

When we finish bringingthe dirty dishes to the sink, Liam asks, “Wet or dry?”

I’ve always enjoyed washing dishes. I find it relaxing, without thinking I say, “Wet.”

The big smirk on his face tells me I‘ve walked into a trap. The effort to avoid looking at him during dinner and the two glasses of red wine I had slowed me down. What did I miss? I take an extra second to get it. Wet. He did not ask me wash or dry. He asked wet or dry and I walked right into it. And he’s enjoying it immensely. Something twists inside me. There’s a change in the way he looks at me, in the way he’s talking, and that twisty something inside me likes it entirely too much.

Fuck. Me.

And why is he asking that, anyway? Logan has a dishwasher. No need to dry anything. He’s just trying to get under my skin.

I do my best to ignore him and rinse the dishes.

“I can rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, no need to dry anything. You don’t have to be here.”

“I live here,” is his smart-assed answer.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes and try again.

“Listen, it’s clear you don’t like me and that’s fine. I’m not looking for a new best friend. But my sister and your brother are a done deal. And for both their sakes, do you think you can attempt to be civilized around me?”

His eyebrows pop up and disappear under the longish light brown hair falling over his forehead. I have the urge to push the locks off his face so I can see his eyes better.

The two times we met before he had a beanie on. Today is the first time I see Liam without it. I expected his hair to be short, military style. But it’s long enough to brush the tops of his shoulders. It lends softness to his otherwise chiseled jaw and steel gray eyes. This is not the trendy haircut popular with so many guys. His hair is long because he hasn’t bothered to have it cut in several months. It should look unkept and messy, but it works for him. It makes Liam more masculine somehow.

He evaluates me, trying to read any hidden meaning behind my words. This is the most honest I’ve been since we met. Yeah, I apologized twice before, but I didn’t mean it. Not that I’m actually apologizing right now. This is more like an agreement to stay out of each other’s way.

“I don’t dislike you,” he says. “It’s just that you say some things that aren’t very socially accepted.”

I almost snort at that.

“You don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. Not one drop of my worth depends on your acceptance of me, and I’m not so insecure that I need to gain approval from everyone. I’m fine with you hating my guts, but maybe we can just go on ignoring each other instead of antagonizing each other.”

“I don’t hate your guts.”

“Well, you don’t like them either.”

The smile that precedes his words is so sexy I have the urge to look over my shoulder and see if someone else is behind me. No way he’s directing that smile at me.

“I like parts of you,” he says, his eyes trailing suggestively down my body and lazily making their way back to my face until his gaze locks on mine.

Shivers dance on my spine. My skin prickles and my damn nipples get hard. Again.

I need to have a serious talk with my boobs. Either that or buy super padded bras so at least I can disguise the untimely and unwanted reaction of my traitorous body. I’m at a loss for words and his smile grows bigger. I look away from his face and catch a glimpse of something else growing bigger.

I look a moment too long. He catches me and laughs. The sound is . . . beautiful. Light and inviting. I want to wrap myself in the sound of Liam’s laugh like a blanket—it warms me and fills a void inside of me.

This is a side of Liam I suspect hasn’t come out in a long time. I’m paralyzed by conflicting emotions. My annoyance with him, the need to know more, to get closer, to unburden him from whatever took his joy away and made him the angry person he keeps showing me.

He reads the questioning curiosity in my face and shuts down, putting on the asshole cover again.

I realize there’s a lot more to Liam than he’s letting out and, like me, he’ll go to extremes to protect that side of him.

---