Oh, no, no,no.
His face took on such an intent look that I jerked backward. His fingers slid off my cheek and fell slowly, curling into a fist at hisside.
My heart whizzed around my chest like a stray bullet. I prayed he couldn’t hear my pulse, prayed he couldn’t see how it made the thin cotton of my shirtquiver.
He shifted his gaze to a plump tree dripping with lilac blooms. “I’m sorry about laying all this on you. I just thought you’d appreciateknowing.”
“I do appreciate it, but it doesn’t make me sorry your father isdead.”
Liam didn’t respond for a such a long time that I hesitated to apologize, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t apologize for saying words I meant. His father wasevil.
“Do you want to go home?” he finallyasked.
Did he mean to the inn or to LosAngeles?
Probably to the inn… “Yeah, but I’ll call acab.”
He shifted his gaze to me. His eyes were so dark, as though his pupils had stretched from lid to lid and corner to corner. “I’ll drop you off. It’s on myway.”
Was it really? “Okay.”
In silence, we made our way to his car that was parked across the street from the pool bar. I could see the pack through the glass façade, wielding cue sticks, laughing, and drinking. I prayed they couldn’t see me. I didn’t want new rumors tospread.
Liam pulled my door open, and instead of making a fuss, I got in. The tension inside the car was so thick it was stifling. I cracked my window open, but the brisk air did little to deflate the ripeatmosphere.
I rested my cheek against the headrest and watched the darkness unspool outside the car, the same way it was unspooling inside my mind: Liam wasn’t attracted to me; he pitied me. He thought I was pathetic and sad and way too proud for my own good. Besides,Iwasn’t attracted to him. Sure, he was handsome, but plenty of guys were handsome. Just because my body reacted to his didn’t mean I should encourage the feelings swarming throughme.
“The elders want to meet on Wednesday.” His voice jolted me out of mydeliberations.
I turned to look at him, his profile lacquered by the glow of hisdashboard.
“To discuss the nexttrial.”
“I shouldn’t be part of the nexttrial.”
His jaw flexed as he slid to a stop in front of the inn. “But youare.”
“But I shouldn’tbe.”
“Look, if you don’t want to take part in the contest anymore, go to the meeting and have it out withthem.”
I flinched from the harshness of his voice. “Fine. At what time will it be andwhere?”
“It’ll be at my father’s house at 6:00p.m.”
A shudder shot down my spine. “Why at your father’shouse?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Do you have a problem with goingthere?”
I clicked my seatbelt and pumped my door handle. “No.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me for theaddress?”
“I remember where itis.”
“Of course youdo.”
My pulse became a chaotic mess ofheartbeats.
