Page 11 of Liam
His hand hovers in the air between us, an unspoken challenge. The lab falls silent, save for the steady drip of water from our soaked clothes. My fingers twitch at my side, a war raging within. A voice screams caution, but another, louder one, demands action.
With a sharp inhale, my chin lifts. Our palms meet, his skin warm and dry against my still-damp hand. A jolt shoots up my arm, reminiscent of the earlier spark when we collided.
“Deal.” The word escapes my lips, steadier than the rapid drumming of my heart would suggest.
Our gazes lock, a silent battle of wills. Neither of us breaks the handshake, each waiting for the other to yield first.
Thoughts whirl like a centrifuge at high speed.What have I just agreed to?The magnitude of this wager looms large, a tidal wave of potential consequences. Yet, beneath the apprehension, a different sensation bubbles up.
Excitement. A chance to prove Liam Valeur wrong, to shatter his smug certainty. The thrill of the challenge courses through my veins, drowning out the whispers of doubt.
Game on, Valeur. Game on.
Chapter Four
LIAM
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Red Door Speed Dating! Tonight, you’ll meet fifteen potential matches. You’ll have seven minutes with each person. When you hear the bell, it’s time to move to the next table. Remember, be yourself, have fun, and who knows? You might just find your soulmate!”
The low hum of chatter fills the dimly lit room, punctuated by the occasional nervous laugh or clink of glasses. I adjust my tie for the umpteenth time, feeling out of place in my tailored suit amidst the sea of casual wear. The smell of cheap perfume and desperation hangs in the air, making me wonder, not for the first time tonight, what I’ve gotten myself into.
The Red Door, despite its provocative name, is an unremarkable venue. Circular tables are scattered throughout the space, each adorned with a small vase containing a single,slightly wilted rose. It’s a sad attempt at romance that only serves to highlight the artificiality of this entire situation.
I scan the room, my eyes landing on a familiar mass of curls. Aleria sits at table seven, fidgeting with her shirt. Our gazes lock for a moment before I glance away.
A bell chimes, its shrill tone cutting through the murmur of conversation. The host, a petite woman with a too-bright smile, claps her hands to get everyone’s attention.
I take my seat at table nine. The first round is about to begin, and I plaster on my most charming smile as a woman with vibrant red hair and too much eye makeup settles into the chair across from me.
“Hi, I’m Stacy,” she purrs, leaning forward to give me an eyeful of her ample cleavage.
“Liam,” I reply, trying to keep my eyes on her face. “So, Stacy, what do you like to do for fun?”
Her eyes light up in a way that sets off warning bells in my head. “Oh, I have the most fascinating hobby,” she says, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I breed snakes.”
“That’s…interesting. What kind of snakes?”
Stacy leans in even closer, her breath hot against my ear. “All kinds. But my favorites are the big ones. There’s nothing quite like the feel of a snake slithering across your skin while you’re in bed.”
I choke on my drink, barely avoiding spitting it all over her. “I’m sorry. What?”
She giggles, oblivious to my discomfort. “Oh yes, it’s so sensual. Don’t worry. I’ll introduce you to my babies soon enough. Have you ever had sex with a snake around you?”
“No.” And I don’t intend to, thank you very much.
The bell chimes, ending our encounter. I make a mental note to avoid Stacy at all costs as I move to the next table, my mind reeling from the bizarre interaction.
The next few rounds pass in a blur of awkward small talk and forced laughter. There’s Karen, a middle-aged woman with a severe bob and an even more severe expression. She spends our entire seven minutes ranting about her ex-husband, her voice rising in pitch with each perceived slight she recounts. I nod along, searching for a way to steer the conversation in any other direction.
Then there’s Tillie, a muscle-bound woman whose tight t-shirt seems one flex away from disintegrating. She can’t seem to form a sentence without mentioning her CrossFit regime or her protein intake. By the end of our time, I know more about the benefits of ketogenic diets than I ever wanted to.
Melissa seems nice enough at first. She’s a kindergarten teacher with a soft voice and kind eyes. We chat about our favorite childhood books, and I think that maybe this night isn’t a total disaster. That is until she mentions her belief that the earth is flat. I spend the rest of our time trying to determine if she’s joking. She’s not.
Just as I’m losing hope, contemplating the possibility of sneaking out during the next break, I meet Sofia. She’s a pediatric nurse with warm brown eyes and a gentle smile that puts me at ease. We chat about our favorite books and travel destinations, discovering a shared love for obscure sci-fi novels and off-the-beaten-path adventures.
“I once spent a week in a tiny village in the mountains of Peru,” Sofia says, her eyes lighting up with the memory. “The stars at night were unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”
I lean forward, interested. “That sounds incredible. I’ve always wanted to visit Peru. Did you do the Inca Trail?”
