Page 47 of Until We're More
“Carry, huh?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m not opposed to carrying you. It’s not like you weigh much.”
“Ah, look at that.” I dragged a finger down the front of his worn T-shirt. “He misses one celebratory dinner, and the flattery comes out.”
He frowned, which was the opposite of what I was going for.
“That was supposed to be a joke.”
“Funny,” he said, then he turned to Finn. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Sure thing.” Finn raised his voice. “Nice to meet you all. I’d love to stay, but I’ve got an early morning tomorrow, and my trainer is a total hard-ass.”
I laughed, and Liam rolled his eyes. Once we’d told him goodbye, Liam pulled a seat up next to me. When the waitress came by, he ordered some appetizers, and I ordered another margarita.
One of the guys followed MMA, so he peppered Liam with questions, as well as asked about every pro fighter he knew. Brad was apparently a fan, too, and insisted the waitress bring Liam a glass of fancy scotch “on him.”
While small talk wasn’t his thing, Liam faked it well. He kept his answers short but polite and downplayed how big of a deal he and Team Domination were.
“He’s being humble,” I said. “He’s amazing in the cage, and he’s such a great coach.”
Liam reached under the table and squeezed my knee, and liquid warmth pooled low in my gut.
“Well,” Brad said after the conversation slowed. “I’m going to call it a night. We’ll have to do this a few more times before Chelsea and I head back to Denver.”
Liam’s hand tightened on my knee as my stomach dropped.
The clock ticking down Liam’s and my time together hung heavier over our heads, each falling second louder and louder. Two weeks had gone by in a blink, and I started thinking about regrets. What would leave me with more? Making things weird by asking if he’d be the guy to take my virginity? Choosing the lighter approach and hinting I wouldn’t be opposed to a with-benefits-type arrangement?
Or not taking the last chance we might have to see if we could have something extraordinary before life pulled us even farther in different directions?
My stomach swirled with nerves and desire and…well, some of that might be alcohol. Thanks to my last especially strong cocktail, I was pleasantly buzzed. Through the haze, my body was making its vote well known, though, and it was in favor of having Liam’s large hands traveling across more of my skin.
Heat licked higher up my thigh, and the thought of asking Liam for what I wanted later tonight had me ordering an extra glass of liquid courage.I can do it. It’ll be better than always wondering what if…
My next drink arrived right in time to silently toast to that sentiment.
One by one, the rest of the group made their excuses and pushed away from the table. “It was nice meeting you, Stefan,” Ashlee said. Then she laughed and shook her head. “Sorry, I mean Liam.” She sent me a not-so-subtle smile that made it pretty clear that in my case, she was Team Stefan.
Oh, jeez. Time’s almost up.Since I’d already polished off my last drink, I reached for the glass of scotch that Liam had barely touched and tipped it back, coughing when it was way stronger than I thought it’d be. “So that’s how scotch tastes. I don’t like it.”
“Probably why your boss ordered it for me, not you. But since I knew I’d be driving, I only took a polite sip.”
“I just…” I peered into his blue eyes. Then, as if someone else was in control of my arm, I reached up and dragged my fingers across the side of his face and along his jaw. His stubble tickled my skin and sent a zip through my arm and down my core. “Dude, this face. Do you ever, like, think about your face?”
Equal parts amusement and confusion flickered through his features. “Not sure what you mean. It’s my face. I see it every day.”
“I see it most every day, too, and it still affects me.”
Did that just come out? Like, out loud? And why couldn’t I read his reaction? He stayed perfectly still, and I gave in to temptation and ran a hand down his chest.
“Chelsea.” His voice was ragged, deeper than usual—I was sure of it.
“Liam.” I continued lower, lower… As soon as I reached his abs, he caught my wrist. “Ooh, quick reflexes,” I said with a giggle. Why was I giggling? This wasn’t a giggle situation.
“You’re drunk.”
