Page 32 of Recklessly You
She nods, waving at me to follow her out the door.
An hour later, my hands feel smooth as butter after sampling more lotions than I realized existed. I pick up a candle that reads “Strawberry Pound Cake.” Nope, that will only make me hungry. I sniff lavender, and espresso smells good. I add two of those and some other scents to my basket. For some reason, I’ve never been a candle person. Setting the mood for Liam and me, though…it feels sexy and hot.
“Tell me, is this guy better than Eric?” Mila asks.
I chuckle. There is no comparison. Liam is breathtaking. I want to know more about him and who he is under all the hard layers. It’s a bad idea, but I do.
“Oh, yeah, way better,” I say with a grin.
Mila asks where I met this hot guy. I feel guilty lying, but I tell her we met through a dating app. She’s my bestie. I’ve never lied to her. After my arrangement with Liam is over, I’ll tell her.
The thought of our arrangement ending has me feeling…heartbroken.Dammit, Sophie, don’t think with your heart.He doesn’t want anyone catching feelings for him.
“Are you going to see him again?” Mila asks as she sniffs different scented candles.
“Yeah, but he doesn’t want a relationship. It’s only casual, a no-strings-attached thing.”
She frowns. “Sophie, be careful. You don’t want to fall in love when he wants the opposite. You already like him way too much. I can tell. And it’s only been one night.”
She’s right. Mila knows me so well. The minute I caught a glimpse of him in my studio speaking with Mila, I wanted him. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach. I knew I was playing a dangerous game when I agreed. I know I will get my heart broken again, but I know this time it will be different because Liam is no match to the men I’ve been with. The chemistry I felt from the beginning was fire. Let’s just hope I can put the fire out before I’m the one getting burned.
CHAPTER 11
LIAM
“What can I get ya, Liam?” Will bellows over the blaring music and chatter in the bar.
“Corona with lime,” I reply as he starts to fill a pint glass.
The chairs next to me are quickly pulled out, and Santiago and Mark wedge into them.
“How’s it going, bro?” I tip my head up and give them a strong handshake.
“Did you manage to get the truck running?” Santiago asks, signaling Will for a beer.
I squeeze the lime into the corona and look at Santiago. “Not yet. I bought a 454 big block engine. All I need now is a lift to swap out the old engine and rebuild the carburetor.”
Will returns with drinks in hand and offers beers to both Mark and Santiago.
“If you need a lift, you can always use the one in my shop. I’m happy to help,” Santiago drawls out as he takes a swig of beer.
“Thanks, man, I appreciate it,” I reply.
He pats my shoulder and gestures to the unoccupied pool table.
Mark takes the first shot, leaning onto the glossy mahogany table as he aims his cue. “Has Rosa returned to Oregon? I didn’t get a chance to see her or meet her boyfriend. Your mom mentioned she might move back.”
Rosa and Mark are the same age. They’ve been friends since childhood, although Rosa spent her time constantly by Santiago’s side.
I glance up at Santiago. He stiffens at the mention of Rosa. When I returned from dropping Sophie off on New Year’s Eve, Santiago showed up to hang out and drink some beers. Later that night, Santiago and Rosa had a fallout in the backyard. We couldn’t hear anything when Santiago walked in. He grabbed his keys and drove away. Rosa always followed Santiago around like a big brother, and Santiago always looked out for her. We always ran off any boyfriends Rosa had, anyone who was interested in her. I’m sure he’s being the protective big brother as I have always been to her.
“She left the day after New Year’s. She plans on moving back when she graduates in May. Rosa and her boyfriend are getting an apartment together. She hopes to open her own art studio.” Mark grins. “Remember when she would have her bucket of crayons and draw and paint for hours?”
I laugh. “Yeah, and she would only let Santiago see her drawings.”
Santiago grumbles and aims his cue. A tall redhead leans into him, wrapping her arms around his waist, the palms of her hands brushing his chest.
“Hey, Santi,” she says, her voice dripping with lust.
