Page 37 of I Can't Even

“Nothing.” I shrugged. “I am however calling you on your bullshit.”

His eyebrows shot up and he reared back as if I’d slapped him. Caught off guard, it was the perfect time for me to wrap my arms about his neck and pull him close. He hissed out a breath and I felt his crotch instinctively press closer to me.

“Jules, this doesn’t mean anything,” he said. “I’m a dude. If there’s a strong wind blowing my dick gets hard.”

“More bullshit.” I leaned up on my toes and pressed my mouth to his. I half expected him to push me away. He didn’t, so I made the kiss count. It was long and lingering, and he shuddered as if it was taking everything he had not to drag me back to bed.

Good.

“Here’s the thing,” I paused to run my lips up the side of his neck to the pulse point beneath his jaw that was beating pretty fast for a guy who said this meant nothing. “I get that you’re angry with me. You have every right to be, but there are reasons, things I can’t explain, well, it doesn’t matter. The truth is I know how I feel about you and I know you feel the same way about me, too.”

“You’re wrong,” he said. It might have helped his argument had he not said it through gritted teeth.

“I don’t think so.” I released him and stepped back, letting my eyes linger on his obvious reaction to my nearness. “I’m going to win you back.”

Liam looked equal parts aroused and affronted at my declaration. He closed his eyes and stretched his neck as if he could shrug off whatever he was feeling by cracking the tension in his shoulders. Yeah, no.

When he opened his eyes, it was clear that anger had won. He lowered his brows, looking foreboding, and took a step toward me. I refused to cover myself or back up and instead I tipped my chin up as if daring him to come closer. He did. He invaded my personal space and loomed over me. Despite wanting to touch him, I kept my hands to myself and made my face as bored as possible.

“Let me be very clear. There is no chance, none, that we are getting back together—ever,” Liam said.

I continued to stare at him like a mom patiently waiting out her child’s tantrum. Yeah, it was condescending and probably not my best strategy, but I was operating on reduced brain capacity since the man had just banged me senseless.

“I mean it, Jules,” he said. I continued to stare. “Damn it, I’m serious.”

“I’m sure you are.” I tried to sound sincere and not like I was humoring him, but I don’t think it came out that way, at least, not judging by his flared nostrils or jaw muscles bunched into hard knots.

“Years of my life were spent getting over you,” he said. “I am not going back there again. Not when I have finally moved on with my life.”

We had just slept with each other. How did he figure he’d moved on? My thoughts must have shown on my face because he stomped over to the bed and yanked off the comforter, shoving it at me.

“I’m seeing someone,” he said. “And before you ask, yes, it’s very serious.”

It was a punch to the chest that I hadn’t seen coming. I sucked in a breath as my cheeks flamed hot with mortification. He was seeing someone else? What? Who? And he’d just slept with me! Who did that?

He stared at me. “Do you get it now? I am over you.”

Well, that hurt. Oh, god, it was true what he’d said then. He really was over me. He’d just wanted to fuck me as he so nicely put it “to get me out of his system.” I felt a tiny bit queasy, okay, not a tiny bit. I was pretty sure I was going to gack on his shoes, the shoes he hadn’t even bothered to take off while we doing the horizontal mambo. Then again, I hadn’t taken off my shoes either...for some reason that leveled the playing field.

Wait a second. How could he be seeing someone and I didn’t know? Why hadn’t I seen this woman at his house, working out with him, in his yard, or at his coffee shop? If it was so serious, wouldn’t she have been around at some point since I’d been here?

“Serious, huh?” I shook out the blanket and wrapped it around myself.

“Very,” he said.

I don’t think I imagined his relief at my body being covered up. Interesting. I let the blanket drop, exposing one boob. His pupils dilated. Hmm. I let the blanket stay dropped.

“Are you going to tell her about this, about us?” I asked.

His gaze met mine. He ran a hand through his hair, making it even more mussed than it had been.

“Yeah, sure, of course,” he said. “There is nothing but honesty between us. I really value that in a woman.”

It was his way of slamming me. I got it.

“I don’t imagine she’s going to forgive you for giving your ex-girlfriend three orgasms in one evening,” I said. Yeah, because I can be bitchy like that.

He dragged his eyes up from my exposed nipple to my face, meeting my gaze with an angsty look of his own. He closed his eyes for a moment, probably trying to get his head together.

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