Authors: Danika Stone
Xander rolled his eyes. “I’m not your man.”
“Xander!” Liv hissed.
“And how would you like your coffee …
sir
.” Xander curled the word on his tongue like a curse.
“Lotsa cream. Two shots of hazelnut syrup, too.”
“Delightful,” Xander sneered, his nostrils flaring in disgust. “I’ll bring it out to you right away. Please…” He gestured to the café. “Do make yourself right at home. I’m sure you know how.”
Without waiting for a reply, Xander turned away from the counter, where the cappuccino sat steaming, and stalked, stiff-backed, into the back room. Hank smiled at Xander’s retreating back, but the expression looked more like bared teeth than kindness.
“You know that guy?” he asked stiffly.
“Yes,” Liv grumbled, heading to the farthest table, by the wall.
“Seems like a dick.”
Liv spun, and Hank stumbled to a stop.
“Xander’s my friend,” she snapped. “My
best
friend. And I’d appreciate you remembering that!” From over Hank’s shoulder, Liv could see Xander gaping.
“Sorry, Liv. I didn’t realize.”
Hank’s eyes were worried, and guilt joined hands with her annoyance. She stormed over to the table near the far wall, hoping the distance would keep them out of Xander’s radar. Coffee had been a terrible idea.
It wasn’t Xander who brought their drinks. The other server—Marcy, if Liv remembered correctly—brought out two steaming mugs. She placed a bill in front of Hank, but when Liv reached for hers, Marcy shook her head. “Xander covered it.”
Liv peeked over to where Xander stood behind the counter, but he was studiously refusing to look at her. “Tell Xander I said thanks.”
Liv took a sip and sighed. Hank watched her, smiling.
“What?” Liv asked.
His grin spread. “What do you mean,
what
?”
“Why’d you want to have coffee?”
Hank’s chin dropped down, and he fiddled with the handle of his cup. “I—I missed you, I guess.”
“Oh.”
The admission sat between them. Liv didn’t know how to answer, and Hank didn’t take it back. Seconds passed as Liv’s pulse shot back into overtime. She stared at the surface of the coffee swirling in her mug. Tiny universes rose and fell in the liquid depths as the moment dragged out into uncomfortable territory.
Oh God!
her mind screamed. (God didn’t answer.)
“So tell me what you’ve been up to,” Hank said.
“I dunno,” Liv muttered. “School, I guess.”
“That last sociology assignment was killer.”
“I think I did okay.” Liv’s eyes flicked up and back down, taking in the open face, the warm grin.
Hank laughed. “I would’ve done a lot better if I’d had you to work with. Hope the final’s a little easier.” And suddenly they were talking again, the calm returned. Maybe, Liv thought, this was the start of something. Maybe Hank
did
like her after all. The thought that maybe—just maybe!—he’d broken up with his girlfriend in the last few days surged like a bird trapped in her chest, but it felt too crazy to be true.
An hour later, their coffees were finished, Hank loose-limbed and grinning, Liv warily returning his smiles. Every once in a while Liv could see Xander eye them from behind the counter, but he made no move to intervene.
“I should probably get going,” she said, reaching for her purse and standing. “It was good talking, Hank.”
“It was,” he agreed, following her to the door. He didn’t touch her, but he was closer than he needed to be—closer than anyone stood, except for Xander—and he pushed open the door for her, waiting as she passed.
Liv’s heart was pounding as they reached the street. She kept expecting him to head off on his own route, but Hank followed her until she reached the bus stop. He stepped into the shelter alongside her, his bulk blocking the midafternoon light. Hank’s blond hair had a golden halo, his grin that of a beatific god.
“This was really nice, Liv.”
“Yeah, it was.”
He reached out, running a finger along Liv’s cheek and stopping whatever else she had intended to say. She was frozen in place. That gesture was
not
just friendly. That meant something. But before she could figure out
what
, Hank spoke again.
“I was thinking about what happened,” he said. “I feel bad about how things ended.” Liv couldn’t think past the screaming of her brain. Hank’s hand stroked her jaw as he leaned closer.
“I think you’re a really cool chick,” he said. “I like hanging out with you.” He moved in, his other hand circling her waist. “And I thought maybe we could do it more.”
His hip bumping into hers dislodged a single word: “W-what?”
Hank grinned down at her—so close by now all she saw were teeth—and then the distance disappeared entirely. They were kissing, Liv realized in shock, in the bus shelter, and anyone could see! It was so crazy she couldn’t think. He tasted sweet and syrupy, and his lips were soft—puffy almost—and Liv was distracted by the sudden fear Xander would see this.
What am I doing?
her mind shouted.
Hank let her go, and she stumbled back, catching herself against the wall. His smile grew wolfish.
“Liv,” he said quietly, “I had this crazy thought.”
She took a gasping breath. “O-okay?”
“And I’m only saying this to you ’cause you’re really cool, and I like you.” He brushed her hair from her eyes, and Liv let out a soft moan. His smile grew. “I like you a lot.”
Liv nodded. She had no idea what was happening, but she knew she wanted Hank to kiss her again. Her entire body was humming, a panicked fervor centering on the brightness of his smile.
Hank caught hold of Liv’s hand. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in meeting Hayley sometime.”
Liv blinked. Her brain wasn’t adding things together. She glanced down at their twined fingers and then back up. “Hayley?” The name didn’t make sense.
Hank nodded. “I told Hayley about you—how awesome you are, and how you asked me out that time—and she said she’d be cool if you were interested in hanging out with us, if you catch what I’m saying.” He tugged at her hand, but this time Liv didn’t move. She frowned.
“Sorry, but who is Hayley?”
“My girlfriend.”
The word was a bucket of ice water. “Your girlfriend?” Her breath was gone, air sucked from her lungs.
“I thought that you might be interested in hanging out with us.” Hank’s gaze dropped down the length of Liv’s body, and she had the sudden urge to cover her breasts. His leer made her feel naked. “Maybe get to know each other better. I think you two would really get along. We’ve done it before, you know. Two’s fun, but three’s better.” He chuckled.
He reached for her again, but Liv got her hands up at the same time. Instead of the kiss Hank had been expecting, Liv shoved his chest. It felt like hitting a brick wall. The impact shot up her arms, jarring her shoulders.
“What the—?”
“I need to go,” she cried, pushing past him.
“Where?”
She shot him a fierce look. “Anywhere away from you!”
Hank’s smile faded. “But I thought you liked me.”
She turned to run.
“Not anymore!”
* * *
* * *
Liv knew something was up the moment she came in the door. A wall of odor hit her. Fried chicken pervaded the air, one of the few foods Liv truly hated. She kicked off her shoes, irritated she hadn’t gotten home in time to attempt cooking (or at least ordering) something healthier. Even soup would have been preferable. The thought of soggy fillets of breaded chicken boiling in oil turned her stomach and always had.
“Liv?” her mother called. “That you?” Her voice sounded unnaturally chipper.
Liv dropped her bag by the door. “Yeah, it’s me.”
“Come on up. Gary and I just started to eat.”
Liv groaned. Gary didn’t eat anything unless it was an animal. He didn’t enjoy it unless it had been fried. The smell should have been a dead giveaway of his presence.
“I’m not sure I’m hungry,” Liv lied. If she got away now, she could grab something downtown with Xander, or eat cereal after her mom went to bed. She reached for the door handle.
“Come up and visit then,” her mother said. “You haven’t seen Gary in ages.”
Liv’s shoulders drooped. After their last run-in, Liv had no intention of making small talk. “All right. But just for a minute.”
With leaden feet, Liv trudged into the kitchen. Gary was already elbow-deep in a plate of fried chicken, his lips and fingers shiny with fat. Liv’s stomach clenched in revulsion. He didn’t stop eating; he just nodded to her as she came through the doorway.
“How was school?” Katherine asked warmly.
Liv slumped down in her chair. “School was fine.”
“You get that final math assignment handed in?”
“Did that yesterday. Today was review.”
Gary watched the interaction with docile interest, fleshy jowls swinging as he chewed.
“So it’s just exams now?” Katherine prodded.
“This week is still classes, then finals begin. And on that note…” Liv pushed back from the table, forcing herself to smile. “It was great seeing you, Gary, but I should get back to studying.”
“You still doing that make-believe stuff?” Gary grunted.
He wiped his fingers on the paper napkin and dropped it onto the tabletop beside him.
“A-am I what?” Liv stammered.
“The online stuff,” he said, waving shiny fingers at her. “The movies and such.”
Liv felt her stomach contract, the smell of fried chicken mingling with her horror. She glanced at her mother, who was staring at her hands. “Mom?”
No answer.
“Your mother tells me you’ve been fooling around with that whole
Star Trek
thing for years.”
“
Starveil
,” Liv said.
“That you almost flunked high school because of it, and you’d picked it up again.”
“That’s hardly … that’s—” Embarrassment and fury seethed under her skin, prickling like sparks.
“Katherine said she tried to talk sense to you, but that you wouldn’t listen.”
Liv spun on her mother. “That’s not fair! I haven’t vidded at all since we talked!”
“And she thought we should sit down and talk about it,” Gary finished.