Page 3 of Addicted Lies

This is dangerous, Billie.

Walk away, Billie.

I don’t want to listen to reason, but I’m so used to people being hurt from just getting my number that I realize I like him enough that I don’t want to see him hurt.

“I should leave,” I tell him before I can stop myself from taking a step forward. Our chests brush, but he doesn’t step back.

What the fuck am I doing?

Me and my reckless brain decided it was best to leave.

And yet I can’t look away. I want the heat of his body on mine.

His dark gaze pins me in place as he leers down at me. Ford, like his brother, has high cheekbones and great lips. Both of them are attractive. There is no denying that. But where Hawke is loud and obnoxious, Ford is quiet and reserved.

Or so I thought.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Billie.” My name rolls off his tongue, but he doesn’t step back or make any type of move.

“Am I?” I ask. His tongue darts out, and it slides over his teeth as his gaze locks on mine.

Ford is a very restrained person, unlike his brother, who acts on all his impulses.

And maybe it’s my devilish curiosity to see what he might look like when he loses his shit.

Maybe I want to be the reason he does.

I’m sure he probably lets loose occasionally; he can’t be a calm and collected person all the time in this life we live. Even I know that, and my parents tried to shield me from most of it.

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” I ask. It could be the alcohol talking. Or maybe it’s just me. I don’t know. Maybe it’s a bit of both.

“Kiss you?” he asks around the lollipop as his gaze drops to my lips. It stays there for a second too long before moving back to my eyes. “That won’t happen,” he says matter-of-factly, but then he leans down, his mouth close to mine. I close my eyes. And I wait. I want this man to kiss me.

I want it like I want my next breath.

I want to be breathless from his touch.

“We’re leaving. Get moving,” he whispers into my ear.

My eyelids burst open, and disappointment and embarrassment flood me. I stare at him in shock as he backs away from me. He reaches for my hand, clasping it in his before he starts dragging me toward the door. He pulls out his phone, puts it to his ear, and says a few words, most likely telling Hawke we’re leaving.

What the actual fuck just happened?!

Did I just get rejected?

I’m reeling from what just happened, and it’s not until the cool air hits me and we’re almost at the car that I yank my hand out of his. “I’ll find my own way home, thanks,” I say as I turn to walk away.

“Billie. Stop,” he commands from behind me, but I fucking refuse. Whatever the fuck was happening in there, I must’ve been out of my goddamned mind.

“Stop,” he repeats as he grabs my hand. I try to yank it back but can’t fight against his strength, so I turn around and swing my other hand at his face. He barely dodges, looking surprised that I tried to slap him.

Tears spring to my eyes. And maybe it’s because I’ve been drinking, or maybe it’s because I’ve yet again been reminded how controlling my brother is. But I won’t be fucking humiliated by an asshole who barely speaks.

“What’s the problem? Is your dick so small you can’t use it? Or do you think you’re too good for me?”

“Too good for you?” He frowns.

“It’s not the small dick comment you’re going to correct?” I growl, infuriated. He genuinely looks baffled. I let out an irritated sigh. “Do you know how frustrating it is to not have any control over your own life? All I want to do is fuck, like a normal college student, but noooooo, Billie has to remain celibate or some shit.”

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