Page 34 of Trusting Liam (Taking Chances 2)

With a look back at Kira’s room, Liam released me and began towing me toward the front door. As soon as we were in the car and it was turned on, he looked at me expectantly, and waited until I was done texting Zane about Kira’s mood and begging him to call her. Once my phone was back in my lap, Liam leaned in for a quick kiss before backing out of the space and heading over to his friend’s place.

I’d been there before, but still couldn’t believe the size of it when we pulled up. This guy’s house was so extravagant and large that he even hired a valet parking service for when he had parties. Kira had called his house a resort because that’s pretty much what it looked like. You could easily get lost trying to find a bathroom, and I’d told Kira he should have signs up directing guests.

He had a kitchen the size of our condo—that was only for entertaining purposes and appearance—and a much larger kitchen in the back for his chefs. Outside there was a basketball court, tennis court, two pools and a hot tub, and a small golfing area—and by small, I mean it was large enough for nine holes. And that’s not including the third pool and hot tub that were in the house, as well as the bowling alley. There were also menus placed near random phones in the house so you could call in a food order to the kitchen. And the best part? The part of the beach the house was on was private.

Like Kira said . . . resort.

Liam had gone to school with the owner of the house’s younger brother and sister, and apparently Eli and Liam did a lot of the advertising for the man’s business. Whatever his business was. I’d forgotten as soon as he’d told me just like I’d forgotten the guy’s name. Kira and I had been referring to him as RB—Rich Bastard.

There were hundreds of people there. Some in the house, some outside at the pools, and a few mingling on the beach. Weaving through the bikini-wearing girls and guys without shirts were waiters delivering drinks and food.

Liam kept his arm around my waist as he talked with someone he knew, and I just tried to take everything in again. It was all super overwhelming—even more so the second time around since Kira wasn’t with me.

“Well, don’t you two look a little overdressed?” a loud voice boomed from behind us, and we turned to find RB standing there with a wide smile. “Liam, how are you?”

“Good, doing good. Rob, do you remember Kennedy?”

Rob . . . Rich Bastard . . . same thing. I plastered a smile on my face and extended a hand toward him. “Good to see you again!”

He took my hand quickly, then pulled his away and pointed at me. “Was I really wasted last time, or were there two of you?”

“There were two. My twin, she’s not here,” I explained seconds before he pulled me in for a hug.

“Good deal, I was about to worry about my alcohol intake if I’d been seeing double.” He laughed and pointed at a man passing us. “Chris! This couple needs to be relieved of some clothing. Care to help them out?”

A uniform-wearing guy stepped up to us and pulled a key ring out of his pocket. After taking the key off, he handed Liam the key ring that had a gold plate with the number 103 on it. “Don’t lose that, please, otherwise I won’t be able to get your clothes back until everyone else has left the party. What clothes and belongings can I take for you?”

The last time we’d gone through this, Kira and I had looked at him like he’d lost his mind when he’d asked for our clothes. This time, it wasn’t any less awkward, but at least I’d known to expect it. Once I had my shirt off, I handed it and my purse over to Chris, and waited while Liam shoved his keys, wallet, and phone in my purse and handed over his shirt as well.

“Do you want me to take your shorts, miss?” he asked, and I shook my head.

“No, I’m fine with them. Thank you, though.” I knew every other female at the party wasn’t wearing anything more than her bikini, but I found it weird to walk around some stranger’s house without some kind of cover on. Not that my shorts covered much anyway, but it still made me feel better to have them on.

“There, much better.” RB gestured toward his house and smiled. “Have fun, anything you need, just call it into the kitchen. As always, it’s on the house! I have to go act like a host or something now.”

After our good-byes, I looked at Liam. “That sounded like the exact same speech as last time.”

Liam smiled and pulled me close. “It was, I don’t think he’s realized people have caught on to that—or he just doesn’t care.”

“The latter,” I mumbled.

“Probably. Do you want anything to eat or drink, or do you want to go outside?”

“Outside, please. There’s a lot of cologne and perfume clashing together in here.”

With a loud laugh, Liam pulled me toward the back, and I was quick to regret begging him to take me out. While RB’s house was something in itself to look at and explore, I hated how the other people attending the party had me feeling insecure.

I’d never been insecure until the last time I was here. I couldn’t look at any woman and know for sure that her hair was natural, just like I couldn’t look at them and find a natural chest. Mine wasn’t small, never had been. But my boobs didn’t stay up unnaturally high, looking surgically enhanced like all the other women’s. And while I’d never had a problem with my tattoos—and still didn’t—it was incredibly obvious that I did not fit in here because of them.

The only tattoos I saw on the other women were either little symbols or a word on their wrist, or something to make guys stare at their ass. And there I was with sleeves and more art and words on my chest, sides, back, and legs. I loved my tattoos; it was the other women’s looks as we passed by them that made me want to curl in on myself or leave. It didn’t really help that more often than not, people stopped talking when we walked by. They’d done the same when Kira was with us, but I’d been making myself believe it was because she and I were so identical looking. I’d been wrong.

“I don’t fit in here, Liam,” I whispered as we moved through the crowd.

“And? I don’t either. I wouldn’t want you if you did.”

I sighed, and turned to face him. When he stopped walking and leaned close, I shook my head. “But I’m not them . . . I don’t look like them.”

Liam’s eyebrows rose, and a smile crossed his face. “You don’t look like them? That’s what you’re worried about? Kennedy,” he mumbled as he lowered his head so his mouth was next to my ear. His hand squeezed my hip when he asked, “Have you seen yourself lately? Did you see how all the guys we passed were looking at you? You are easily the sexiest woman here, Moon. Trust me.”

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