Page 2 of Ward Willing
I just need to figure out what that reason is.
“Come on, Liam,” she says, her voice low. “Take a shot with me.”
A torrent of thoughts rush through my mind.
She has to act composed. She’s had to carry her grief alone, not to mention at such a young age.
“No. You’re drunk. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m willing to get you moredrunk, especially because you’re underage. Speaking of, howareyou purchasing alcohol without an ID?”
She rolls her eyes, and I swear to god, it’s the most infuriating thing. “Don’t worry about it. You only live once, Liam. You and I should know that better than anyone.”
My face hardens, and I sigh heavily, trying to keep the silken thread of warning out of my voice. “Put the shots down and I’ll walk you to your room. No more alcohol, Zoe.”
She boldly meets my gaze, picking two of the shot glasses up. “Watch me.”
Then she throws one of the shots back. My whole body tenses and my jaw tightens. I don’t take my eyes off her. Warning bells go off, but I ignore them because I’m too busy seeing red. Somehow, she’s the only person who is able to pierce my complacency—the only person able to find a perverse pleasure in challenging me.
It’smaddening.
It only takes a second for my hand to grab hers, lowering my head slightly and raising the other shot glass in her hand to my lips. It triggers something warm to erupt inside of me. I keep my eyes locked on hers as I tilt the glass back and swallow the liquid easily before dropping her hand.
“Happy now?” I ask, annoyance lacing my words.
“Very.”
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and glare down at her. Dark thoughts swirl in my mind—thoughts that have no right to be going through my mind when I look at my best friend’s eighteen-year-old daughter.
But again, I’m not perfect, and I’d love nothing more than to show her who’s in charge.
“Happy birthday, old guy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink tequila,” Zoe says, setting the glasses down and smiling at me. Like always, her smile disarms me, and completely obliterates every dominating thought that had been running through my mind.
We’re in Catalina for my thirty-ninth birthday, and we have dinner reservations. Originally I’d invited my four brothers for the weekend, but they all cancelled at the last minute, leaving Zoe and I alone at the beachfront resort.
When I don’t respond, she continues. “So loquacious tonight,” she mutters sarcastically.
“Loquacious? You’re willing to casually drop the wordloquaciousinto this conversation, but you can’t bother with simple punctuation while texting me?”
She smirks and tilts her head, giving me a mischievous smile. “I only do that to piss you off.”
I can’t help but bark a laugh. “Good to know.”
“You look like you might be sick,” she adds, eyes flicking across my face. “Not a fan of tequila?”
“Not exactly. I had a bad experience once.”
She grins, showcasing her dimples. “When?”
“At a show with your father. That night is a blur of loud music, mosh pits, tattoos?—”
“Tattoos?” A sparkle glimmers in her eyes.
I press my lips together, but I don’t answer her. I guess she knows a thing or two about tattoos now. Her lips tug into a mischievous smirk.
“So youarefun underneath all of that,” she teases, pressing a finger into my chest.
An electric zing goes straight from her finger to my cock.Fuck.
I lean against the bar to move away from her, but she does the same—our bodies only inches apart. It’s a trial of my restraint, and so far I’m winning.
