Marley snorts with laughter and she shares a look with Gus that makes them both giggle uncontrollably. I get the uncomfortable notion that I’m the butt of a joke I don’t understand. “Quite good,” Marley apes, but not in a mean wayand they devolve into a shower of laughter that makes me envious of their ability to relax.
“I think it’s time she gets home,” I tell Gus, who sobers and nods.
“Sorry, she’s only had two. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have a whole lot of tolerance.”
“I’m fine,” Marley objects, poking her finger hard into my chest. “I don’t need you to take me home.”
The words ‘take me home’ echo in my head until all I want is for her to say that in a different way. On a day when she isn’t tipsy. On a day when she means it. “I know you don’t,” I tell her softly, stepping back from the finger that seems to be burning a hole through my chest. “But I would like to, if you’ll let me.”
She smiles up at me from her stool and my heart stops. She’s stunning. My fingers curl with the urge to lift her chin and kiss her pink lips. “Okay, but only because you’re being so nice. And because you’re so pretty.”
Gus snorts and I shoot her an irritated glance while I try to figure out why her comment tied my entire stomach in knots. I can’t deny that I’m glad she finds me ‘pretty’, but I don’t love her word choice.
I help her off her stool and hold onto her arm while she finds her balance. She looks at Gus. “Thank you so much for tonight. It’s the most fun I’ve had since I got here.”
Gus grins. “Anytime Marley, just come on over.”
With their farewells over, I guide her to the door with one arm around her shoulder. Not because she needs it but because I can’t seem to take it away. The apple-cinnamon scent of the cider lingers on her, and I ache to find out what she tastes like. My teeth are nearly dust by the time we get to our front door.
“I had fun tonight,” she announces as I slide the key into the lock, liking the thought of coming home together like this. It feels natural like we’ve done it forever.
“I’m glad,” I answer, helping her take off her coat. “You’ve been so stressed at work. And Gus is one of the best people I’ve ever met.”
She nods and when she sways a bit, I catch her by the waist, my hands on either side of her. Time seems to stand still as she raises her eyes to mine. My heart thunders in my chest with the thought of kissing her, of letting go of all the tension in my body and enjoying something for myself.
Even she seems to sense it. Biting her bottom lip, her eyes land on my mouth. “You can kiss me if you want to, Liam. I don’t care about our rules.”
The desire to gather her against me and taste her nearly flattens me, but not when she’s tipsy. Not when she can’t give me complete consent. It wouldn’t be fair, especially when I shouldn’t be kissing anyone at all. I’m not whole. I’m not the kind of man Marley needs.
I tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear and speak gently. “I think we should keep to our rules, Marley. It’s safer that way.”
Inhaling what I think might be the beginning of a sob, Marley steps back from me. “You’re right,” she says, regaining her composure, fighting for a false smile. “I’m just being silly. I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight, Liam.”
I rake a hand through my hair, hating that I’ve hurt her feelings. I blow out a breath and say, “Goodnight Marley,” right as her door clicks shut.
I sink into the sofa and hold my head in my hands.
13
MARLEY
“Mmph,” I mutter when my phone buzzes on my nightstand the next morning. It’s like a laser straight through my brain and I flip over to stare at the ceiling with a groan. This is why I never drink—the hangover isn’t worth it and since I never drink, Ialwaysget one.
Two ciders.
Two.
Yet I feel like I’ve spent the night with my head in a trough of whiskey.
I reach for my phone when it buzzes again and cringe when I see ‘Mom’ across the screen. I haven’t talked to her in almost two weeks because I don’t know how to explain my living situation without her hearing the lie in my voice. I don’t know why I don’t want her to know I’m living with Liam, but it feels like she’d be working into a big old ‘I told you so’ when she finds out not everything has gone to plan like I hoped.
So I’ve stuck to text because it’s easier to curate my tone when it isn’t coming from my traitorous mouth.
I send the call to voicemail and stare at the ceiling, wishing I’d gone straight home last night.
No, that’s not entirely true. I loved meeting Gus, and the cider was delicious. But… I flinch at the memory of Liam’s hands at my waist—strong, steady—the look in his eye I’ve never seen before, and then…
I groan and flop over to my side, my cheeks flaming with the same stinging embarrassment I felt last night. I can’t believe I asked him to kiss me—no, practically begged—and that I nearly melted down in tears when he politely and rightly chose the rules over me.