“Liam?” I bit my lip, growing nervous, which both confused and annoyed me. “I’m having some trouble with the futon, and I was wondering if—”
The music stopped, and Liam stood, walking past me to my bedroom.
He tugged on it the same way I had tried a hundred times, and the thing fell open like a book.
“Wow. Thanks.”
“Mmhmm.”
Before he made it to the door, I stopped him by grabbing his arm, and we both recoiled.
“I just wanted to thank you…for letting me stay here for a bit.”
Liam shrugged. “You’re Danny’s sister.” His voice took up every inch of space between us.
“I know, but it’s all of your guys’ house, and I know it’s already pretty crowded here.”
“Well, it’s not for long.” He crossed his arms in front of him. “Right?”
“My friend’s lease is up the first week of May and then I’ll be gone.”
“May?” he choked out.
I frowned, irritated with his attitude. “I spend most of my time at school or in my room, studying, so I won’t be in the way. You don’t have to worry about me.”
He towered over me, giving me the same look as when I was seventeen, only this time, there was something more severe that flickered across his features. “Then, it shouldn’t be a problem.” He apathetically rolled over the words.
I clenched my jaw. “Okay. Well, thanks. Again.” I didn’t like the effect those few moments had had on me. Especially now, after so many years. My skin felt like it could burst into flames.
Liam turned but paused in the doorway. “What the hell is that smell?”
“You mean, my candle?”
“Jesus.” Liam scrunched his nose, finding the glass jar with a flickering flame. “Blow it out. It’s giving me a headache, and I don’t want my house smelling like a fucking gingerbread man’s asshole.”
I scowled.
“Nice bed sheets, by the way,” he said mockingly.
He left without saying another word, and I stood there for a moment, trying not to scream.
Why is his face so inviting to my fist?
The same light melody returned a few seconds later. I shut my door and exhaled loudly, infuriated and very much awake.
2
Liam
Avery fucking Fox.
There was no way that Danny’s little sister was standing in my living room right now. I had known that she would be here by the time we got back, but Danny must’ve brought home another girl from the bar or something because the Avery I had expected still wore overalls and never saw the sunlight. She still had braces, wore thick-as-hell eyeliner, and always had a braid in her hair.
But the brown-haired, golden-skinned girl with a face caught somewhere between an angel and a porn star hugged my drummer, Tic, like an old friend would, and my fucking heart danced in my chest.
Nerves? Seriously? I couldn’t remember the last time a girl had made me nervous. Maybe the time I had taken hot Jane behind the bleachers during one of Nikko’s football games and forgotten a condom. I’d held my breath for nearly two months after that. Or maybe when ugly Jane had nearly run me over in the school parking lot after I drew a mustache over her actual mustache with permanent marker. I had been a dick back then. A lot had changed. Hot Jane was now married with three kids—luckily, none of whom were mine—and ugly Jane wasn’t so ugly anymore. We’d made amends backstage at one of our concerts in Seattle a couple of years ago. I’d had plenty of condoms on hand that time.
I fished my phone out of my back pocket, finding Avery’s social media account a beat later, and began scrolling through her pictures. There had to be a reason for those damn hips and perky breasts.
