Page 50 of Deceit

I let the hurt bleed into my voice because it did hurt. Not that he specifically owes me anything but as a human he should have reached out, he should have stopped it, he should have stayed.

Liam’s signature smile falters for a moment.

“You forgave Asher,” he points out lamely.

I let out a hollow laugh.

“No, I didn’t. Asher and I are arranged to be married. We have to be cordial in public. Do you see us being buddy-buddy? No. He’s currently sucking on his girlfriend’s tongue,” I say, as I point towards him and Bridgette.

Liam looks over at them and shakes his head.

“She is definitely not his girlfriend.”

“I don’t really care. My point is, I’m expected to behave with a certain level of respect towards Asher. I don’t hold the same responsibility for you.”

He frowns at that.

“So that’s it? I don’t get a second chance?”

“Why do you think you deserve one?” I scoff.

He opens his mouth to speak but pauses, rolling his lips together in thought before those deep green eyes come to me. There is so much raw emotion in them that they actually take me completely by surprise.

“For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry, Skyla. I shouldn’t have let Asher do that to you, I should have helped you. I should have done…something. I’m sorry.”

His words are drenched in sincerity, but it’s not enough.

“Your apology is accepted.”

He nods. “So, we’re good?”

“No,” I say simply. “But your apology is accepted.”

Liam’s head cocks to the side, a slight shake to his head.

“I don’t affect you at all, do I, babygirl?”

“Affect me? How so?” I ask.

A self-deprecating laugh escapes him as he scratches at the back of his head.

“I gotta be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever had to work so hard just for a woman to flirt with me.”

“Why on earth would I flirt with you?” I ask, because genuinely, is he stupid?

“Because I’m too charming, most just can’t help themselves,” he grins in a cheesy way that has my mouth smirking, only a little.

“Hmm, I’m afraid I don’t see the appeal.”

He clutches his chest, as he pretends to faint across the table like the absolute fool that he is.

“You wound me. I guess I’ll just have to turn the charm all the way up,” he says as he sits up again. Leaning in close he lifts his hand to catch a single piece of my hair, slowly tucking it behind my ear. As he does, he lets his fingertips skim across my cheek in a way that sends shivers down my body. I maintain eye contact, determined not to be affected by his touch as he speaks softly.

“Your skin is so soft. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

I’m about to tease him for the cheesy line, when I realize he didn’t say it all that loud. No, instead it almost seemed like he was speaking more to himself than anything. I wait for him to break character, drop the charming enthralled act before he goes back to being his goofy all eyes on me self. He doesn’t though, and his hand doesn’t move away from my face. Instead it’s practically cemented against me, the tips of his fingers feather-light against my cheek as they move mere centimeters back and forth .

It's as if he’s trapped in this moment, and the only way he’s able to be shaken from it is when a large hand drops down to his shoulder, startling us both.

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