“Entirely for you, love.”
The look he gives me, plaintive, fascinated, filled with sin, makes me throw the whisky back and shoot it down my throat.
“Just one night and I’m staying on the couch.” I slam the glass down. “Where’s your shower?”
Water runs down my body.I wring out my hair, not happy with this makeshift wash, but otherwise it would smell like a chain-smoker’s dungeon. The door to the bathroom is locked, but I keep waiting for Liam to come rushing in anyway.
I can’t stop thinking about him. The way he moves, the way he looks at me like he’s impossibly curious and can’t help himself. He’s handsome in a rough and scary sort of way. I’ve always tried to avoid men like him, which is how I ended up with Kieren. My ex was perfect: nice family, good hair, outgoing, the All-American kind of guy. My father deeply approved, and maybe that was part of the charm. Dating Kieren meant doing the right thing, and that’s always been everything.
Getting it right. Acting proper. Making my family proud of my choices.
Liam’s the opposite of all that. Drinking with him, showering in his apartment, letting him clean my clothes, and committing arson are all things I should avoid.
But now that I’m alone and I have a few minutes to think, I keep circling back to him.
Back to Liam and how he keeps making me feel.
Despite everything, I wouldn’t take it back.
Even though I’m still in deep shit.
Because when Liam handed me that lighter and I tossed the spark into the car and I watched Kieren’s BMW explode, I feltmore alive, more excited, happier, freer, than I’ve ever felt in my life.
It’s an extremely disorienting feeling. I’m not supposed to like that stuff. Breaking the rules has always been a massive trigger. I stay safe, sane, and centered by walking the straight and narrow.
Liam’s shorts barely stay on my hips. I have to cinch and tie them tight. The sweatshirt is hilariously massive, almost like a dress. I check myself in the mirror, dab at my face, at my lips and eyes. I look tired and stressed, and I wonder what Liam’s going to think.
But why the hell do I care about that?
He’s sitting in the living room. The washer’s making soft mechanical whirrs as the water sloshes in its guts. I feel light and hazy from the whisky. Liam’s still drinking, but now he’s wearing black joggers and a soft gray shirt hoodie.
“Let me ask you something.” He doesn’t glance over, his eyes still locked on the city. “You ever break a law before?”
I snort quietly and sit down on the couch next to him. “Never. Not once.”
“Did you like it?”
“Honestly? Yeah, a little bit.”
“Feels good, right?” He looks at me, face utterly serious. “When you do something you know is wrong, but you choose it anyway, mostly just because you can. When you don’t care what anyone thinks.”
“Is that how you live?”
“It’s how I try to at least.”
“Well, that isn’t me.”
“Yeah, figured.” He looks away again. I watch his lips as he drinks and feel my mouth watering.
“What’s that mean?”
“You got that—“ He waves a hand as if conjuring the word. “You know. That aura."
“I don’t know, actually.”
“You’re uptight.”
I suck in a breath. “What the hell? Why are you randomly insulting me?”
