Page 55 of Cruel Abandon (Fallen Royals 5)

“I wish I was kidding you,” I mutter.

His mirth falls off his face. “Wait.”

I raise my eyebrows.

“He broke into your apartment and installed a security system? And…”

“He threatened me,” I mumble.

“She’s leaving out the part where she kissed me.” Liam drops into the chair beside me, throwing his arm over the back of mine. “Right, Sky?”

I hate, hate, hate that butterflies fill my chest.

But the fact that he’s outed me to his brother? I’d rather shove him off the chair than let him get away with it. I don’t think I’d be able to manage that at this angle.

“Ugh.” I try to scoot away, but he holds fast. “That was after you got me drunk.”

Jake’s gaze bounces back and forth between us. “Um… This is weird. What the fuck, dude?”

“Did you tell him about Norton?”

I narrow my eyes. “Do you tell Jake about every conquest of yours?”

“Most of them.” Jake crosses his arms. “Usually against my will, like this is. Can you leave?”

“No.” Liam lifts my mug and takes a gulp of my coffee. “Mom sent you up here, right? And you come sleep on my couch, then leave before I can ask you anything about it.”

Jake groans.

I’m… lost.

“Maybe you two should have this conversation without me,” I offer. “I’ll go sit in peace at another table. Eat my waffles, drink my coffee…”

“No,” Liam and Jake both snap.

I stand and take back my mug. I signal to the waitress that I’m moving and claim a stool at the breakfast bar. Seriously, fuck boys and their… machoness.

“Hey,” Liam barks, coming up behind me.

“Go away.”

His fingers knot in my hair at the base of my neck, and he wrenches my head back. I meet his flinty stare with one of my own, but the only warning I get is his gaze dropping to my lips. Then he leans down and kisses me.

I flinch, but his grip tightens. There’s nowhere for me to go.

His lips slide against mine. I shudder, gripping his shoulder.

This is nothing like what happened at the bar. This is infinitely more dangerous, because I feel like I’m going to get sucked into the idea of him. Some fairy-tale version of us that would be good together.

His tongue runs along the seam of my mouth. I part for him, forgetting where we are. Blood rushes in my ears. All I can do is hold on to his shoulder and try not to fall—literally. And mentally.

I soften, my muscles relaxing. I gradually stop fighting his hold. Our tongues war angrily, and I nip at his lower lip. This isn’t a battle anymore, it’s become a dance.

And that’s when he stops.

He pulls back abruptly, staring down at me.

My expression is probably somewhere between amazed and perplexed.

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