“The family ... and Liam, right?” I feel the need to clear my throat before answering his question because I have an idea where his thoughts are likelyheaded.
“Well, yes,” I answer,questioningly.
“Watch yourself with thatone,eh?”
“Liam?” Why am I asking? I know who he means and why he’s saying it. I knew I needed to watch my back within thirty seconds of meeting Liam. However, I do find it interesting that they have both warned me against each other. Part of me would like to tell him Liam said the same about him, but I need to leave, and I have a suspicion it might complicate things and cause problems. There is no sense in looking for ways to end the evening on abadnote.
Jade and Cleary ignore the conversation but finish the last of the liquid in their glasses. Jade is all glossy eyed, and if I weren’t here, I know what would happentonight.
I squeeze between the fire pit and the bar stools, grabbing for Jade’s hand. “I really need to get going,” Itellher.
With clumsy movements, she slips off the stool and drags her feet along the sandy pebbles. “I don’t want to leave yet,” shewhines.
“I need to get back,” I tell heragain.
“But I like Cleary,” shecontinues.
“And we need them to drive us home, so you have the whole ride ahead of youwithhim.”
“You’re no fun,” she mutters like a child. “He’s a bad kisser, huh?” I’m thankful she didn’t just say that in front of Sterling. That’s the sort of thing she’d do when she’s beendrinking.
“How did you know he kissed me?” I knew she’d think something was up, but that was a little too fast, evenforJade.
“Your lipstick is smudged.” With a look of excitement in her eyes, she reaches over and runs her thumb under my lip. “There you go.” Now I can’t just stew over this myself tonight; I’ll also be getting drilled by Jade ... well, unless Jade is too busy getting drilled by Cleary. Maybe thatwouldbe best for my selfishreasons.
We pile into the Jeep, back to our original seats since we’re now officially coupled off. By the time Sterling revs the engine, I hear kissing noises coming from the backseat. The sound of it crawls up my spine like a furry spider. I don’t know what it is about that sound that makes me crazy, but it honestly sounds like a dog licking its netherregion.
While I’m trying to block out the growing volume of the makeout session going on behind me, Sterling’s hand falls gently onto my thigh—my bare thigh. The sensation of warmth from his skin makes me clench everything as tightly as I can, and I think he notices, as he glances over at me. The street lights glow within his eyes, and the sweetness he’s done his best to maintain throughout the night appears a little darker this time. It seems like there might be more going through his head than just a kiss, not that the thought isn’t mildly dancing through myheadtoo.
“Where in town are you staying?” I ask, realizing we neverdiscussedit.
“The same complex as Jade. I’m on the other side, though. There aren’t many affordable rental options around here.” I know what he means, which is why I’m grateful for Samantha offering me a room for thesummer.
“Ah, so you enjoy a pull-out wall bedtoo,then?”
“I’m not sure how Jade managed to get so lucky with that feature in her apartment, but no, I have a two bedroom since I share with Cleary and our otherbuddy.”
I glance into the backseat, scared for what I might see, but curiosity got the best of my slightly intoxicated mind. Cleary has a hand up Jade’s skirt. Since she isn’t known for being quiet, if that goes much farther, we’ll all be enjoying the orchestra of hermoaning.
“Looks like Cleary might be trying out that lucky fold-out bed in Jade’s apartmenttonight.”
Sterling pulls his hand away from my goose-bump-covered leg and places it back on the steering wheel. “Well, if you want to tell those people you’re working for not to wait up for you, I’m happy to share my lucky bed that doesn’t fold out from the wall—withyou.”
His question or inquiry forces more juicy clenching. It’s been so long, and my vibrator needs a break. Creating many seconds of awkward silence between his question and the answer he’s waiting for, I’m still in a debate withmyself.
I’m stronger than the voice in my head and the pain between my thighs. I am. “I’m more of a third date type of girl,” I tell him, sounding breathless like I just worked real hard to come out with thatanswer.
“I can handle that,” Sterling says, sounding challenged. “How does tomorrow night sound for datenumbertwo?”
And there it is; the tightness in my chest—the feeling I get when anyone gets too close to affecting myheart.
After picking up the pieces when Mom left Dad, then all my dating debacles, of course, I can’t understand why people put themselves through the things they do for relationships—why risk that type of pain? Statistics suggest a couple is more likely to end up divorced than happy together until death, as the likely-to-be-broken marriage vows state. Chances of a marriage resulting in lifelong love and commitment are low, and I realize my experiences have made me cynical, but statisticsdon’tlie.
It’s not that I’ve ruled out marriage, but the thought of remaining single forever has crossed my mind more times than it should at twenty-two. I do feel like I know the type that will surely cause the pain I try so hard to avoid, but the twist is that Mom was a good wife and mother for most of my childhood. In addition, she was always perfectly dressed, beautiful—a ten, as Dad always told her—but the older she got, the more motivation she had to better herself. My forty-year-old mother was at the gym six days a week, the hair salon once every two weeks, the nail salon weekly, and she had a collection of makeup that must have cost more than a year of car payments. She’s the female version of “He’s Just Too intoHimself.”
Then there’s Dad—a two-hundred-fifty-pound teddy bear who lost all his hair by the time I was fourteen. His smile is brighter than the sun, and his personality is one-of-a-kind. The man can make the saddest person laugh, and he’d go to the ends of the earth for anyone who needs him. Dad is the definition of a good man. Mom couldn’t see that, or she stopped seeing it, I guess. I’m sure she thinks beauty is skin deep, and I was lucky to learn how untrue that is at a young age. Who wants a pretty face when everything inside ishideous?
I haven’t made up my mind about Sterling yet. So far, I know he’s pretty, charming, and a very good kisser, but I need to know moreabouthim.
