Catching Liam (Good Girls Don't) (6 page)

chapter ten

The beat of the latest Macklemore single pumped through the bar. Sweaty bodies pushed around me, calling out drink orders, while I sipped on a gin and tonic. I searched the crowd for Jess or Cassie, not sure I would even see them when they finally made an appearance. It felt good to be at Garrett’s, like I’d rediscovered my equilibrium after a week of flirtations with Liam. He hadn’t asked me out again, but it was pretty clear from our interactions in Markson’s class that the offer stood. Here at Garrett’s, I was reminded of who I was: a girl who didn’t need a boy. It was fun to bring them home once in a while, but I wasn’t about to get into anything serious, especially with a guy on a temporary student visa.

A hand grabbed my body, and I shoved the guy next to me.

“Sorry,” he slurred. “Lost my balance.”

“Try grabbing for the bar next time,” I barked.

So far I’d spotted no likely candidates for an adventure this evening. There was a table of frat guys looking at me, but I avoided eye contact with them. I’d learned early on in my college career that they were more trouble than they were worth. I’d slept with one guy freshman year only to have his entire fraternity label me as an easy target.

I might be a little easy, but I wasn’t anyone’s target.

The music slowed to a steady pulse and the deejay took the mic. “I hope you’ve had enough to drink because it’s karaoke time,” he announced. “And whether you have the balls to get up here and sing, or you have to listen to all the
American Idol
wannabes, you’re going to need liquor.”

His proclamation elicited a chorus of shouts. I raised my glass.

“Does this mean you’re going to sing?” a voice next to me asked.

I didn’t bother to turn towards Liam. “I don’t sing.”

“Not enough booze?” he guessed.

“There is not enough booze in the world to make me get up there and sing,” I said, not taking my eyes of the swarm of co-eds.

A girl named Stacey stumbled to the stage and grabbed the mic as the opening beats of a vintage No Doubt song began. Stacey could not sing, although she’d drank enough to think she could.

“This is unfortunate,” Liam said.

I couldn’t help but giggle. Stacey sounded a bit like a drowned cat although she was gyrating her hips like she was Gwen Stefani.

“This is why I don’t sing,” I told him as I finally turned to face him.

“Because you sound like someone is murdering you?” he asked.

“Definitely.”

Liam grabbed my free hand. “Dance with me?”

He tipped his head toward the dance floor and tugged me along, but I planted my feet in place and shook my head. “I’m not dancing to that.”

Was this his idea of being romantic?

“Come on. It will be ironic,” he pleaded. The bar’s pulsing lights landed in shadows and highlights on his smooth face, accenting his strong jawline. For a minute, I imagined licking it. But that would break rule #1: Don’t bring the same guy home twice. Of course, I was the only one still abiding by that code these days. Then there was the fact that we had committed to being friends and class partners. Nothing more.

“I’m waiting for Jess,” I told him. It was as good of an excuse as any to get rid of him.

Just then the drunk guy from earlier careened into me, nearly knocking me off my feet. The guy caught me around the waist and gave me a boozy smile. “Hello, beautiful.”

I pulled at his hands, trying to pry him off me. Every year I spent more and more time peeling the lightweights off of me. But the guy just pressed closer to me. I think he was trying to dance with me, which felt a lot more like getting humped than any type of rhythm.

“Let me go,” I demanded in a firm voice.

“Don’t be that way,” he said. His mouth was so close to my face that I felt like I could get contact drunk.

Liam appeared behind us and placed a hand on the guy’s shoulder. “The lady asked you to let her go.”

“She can tell me that,” he said, shrugging out of Liam’s grip but not letting me go.

“I did tell you that.” I shimmied out of his grasp, but he lunged for me.

Liam caught him by the shirt, allowing me enough time to escape. “Walk away, mate.”

“Mate?” the guy said in a mocking voice. “Are you some sissy Brit?”

Liam actually grinned at this when he shook his head. “I’m from Scotland, and no one has ever accused the Scots of being sissies.”

“Shouldn’t you be wearing a skirt?” the guy asked.

I gulped. Liam might the most laid-back man I knew, but if he was feeling half as angry as I was, this wasn’t going to be good.

As if to prove me right, Liam’s fist cracked into the guy’s face, knocking him flat on the floor. He never stood a chance against those biceps even if he hadn’t been drinking. Liam peered over him and leaned down while a group of gawkers gathered around us.

“We call them kilts, and we wear them so we can let our enormous cocks breathe.”

I didn’t usually go in for the alpha male types, and maybe if I didn’t know Liam so well, I wouldn’t feel the need to screw him on the spot.

An overweight bouncer I’d never seen before waddled over and grabbed Liam’s arm. “You’re out of here.”

“He was defending me,” I said. I couldn’t let him get kicked out for helping me get rid of that piece of dirt.

“You can leave, too, if you like,” the bouncer growled at me.

I balked. I’d been coming to Garrett’s for three years, since I was a wee thing with a fresh, new fake ID. They knew me here. I looked around for Frank but he was nowhere in sight. My sense of injustice flared in my chest, and I set my jaw, marching past the bouncer and out the door. The cool night air was my first reminder that I had no Plan B. Jess and Cassie would be looking for me. I didn’t have a ride home, and I was wearing completely impractical shoes. I shuffled down the sidewalk, hoping to prolong the onset of blisters from the mile walk back to my apartment as I texted Cassie and Jess that there was a change of plans.

“Hey,” Liam called, catching up to me. “You didn’t have to leave.”

“It’s the principle of the matter,” I said, not bothering to look up from my cell phone.

“I shouldn’t have lost my cool like that. I’m not usually the bar fight type.” He fell into step beside me.

“I thought the Scots were famous for their fighting.”

“We are,” he said with a grin. “We usually save it for the battlefield though.”

I thought of the number of unprovoked advances I’d endured over the years and the amount of time I’d spent planning tactical strategies with my friends. From tag-teaming a hottie to escaping the handsy jerks, we’d developed our game plan over the years. “The bar is the modern battlefield.”

“If every time you go out it’s like that, you might have a point,” he said.

We’d reached the corner and I still had no reply from either of my friends, so I pocketed my phone. “I’m heading home. I’ll catch you on Tuesday.”

“No way,” Liam said. “I can’t let you walk home alone.”

“You’ve done your time. Defended my honor. I’ve got it from here.” It was only a few blocks and well-lit. I’d walked it a dozen times in my time at Olympic State.

“I think I’m honor-bound to see you home after you left the bar for me.”

“I left the bar because that was totally unfair,” I said. “That guy was about three drinks shy of becoming a date rapist, but they kicked you out.”

“See?” he said, his lips curving up. “You defended my honor.”

“And you defended mine. That makes us even.”

“I would rather be in your debt,” Liam admitted.

I started to protest when the tell-tale first drop of a Pacific Northwest storm splatted on my forehead. This was why I always had a plan for getting home from the bar. It was way too inconvenient to carry a slicker and wellies with me everywhere, and now I was trapped in the start of an epic thunderstorm.

Liam quickened his pace, waving for me to run with him. I bounded a few steps before my ankle twisted under me.

“Shit!” I yelped as I got my balance back.

“You okay?” he asked, wrapping an arm around me like he was going to help me stagger home.

“I’m fine, but there’s no way I can run in these.”

The rain picked up in intensity, pelting us with fat, cold drops. A splinter of lightening cut across the sky. It was going to be one of those rare storms that was more intense than long-lasting. I shook the rain off my face and wiped it from my eyelashes, opening my eyes to see Liam squatting in front of me.

“What are you doing?” I called over a blast of thunder.

“Jump on,” he said.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I generally don’t joke around when I’m in the middle of drowning. Let me carry you.”

I took a deep breath and hoisted myself onto his back. His hands found my knees and locked onto them. I couldn’t resist the urge to bury my face into the back of his neck. I told myself it was to avoid being assaulted by more water, but that didn’t explain why I enjoyed his soap-clean scent and the hint of cologne I found there.

“Now I’m in your debt,” I told him as he began jogging toward my apartment complex.

“I’ll think of a way for you to pay me back.”

“So is that really why you wear kilts?” I asked him. My mind was already concocting a variety of ways to repay him for what seemed like a feat of god-like proportions.

“Pants are a modern oppression on men,” he said. “I would wear a kilt every day.”

I’d seen Liam’s calves before and couldn’t help but think if anyone could rock a kilt, he could.

He managed to get us into the complex’s stairwell within five minutes, and despite running the whole way with me on his back, he wasn’t even winded. His stamina was certainly impressive. I wondered briefly if I should test it further. Once we were out of the rain, I shimmied off his back and glanced at my locked apartment door.

“It’s late,” I said, feeling awkward suddenly. I was used to bringing guys home, but not many had carried me there.

“I should get going while I’m still wet,” he said as he twisted his t-shirt, wringing out some of the rain.

“No way. I’m in your debt, remember?” I said. “This storm won’t last long, and I have a dryer.”

My hands shook a little as I unlocked my door and flipped on the light switch. I made a beeline for the cabinet and grabbed for my pill bottle. I had it down before he’d managed to tug his soaked shoes off.

“What’s that?” he called.

I stuffed the bottle back behind the plates and grabbed my Chiclets box, popping a few in my mouth. “The greatest gum on Earth.”

“And you’re not going to offer me any?”

“My bad.” I offered him the box and watched as he poured a few into his hands.

“Amazing,” he said as he chewed.

“I know.”

“No, it’s amazing that it’s just like chewing little rubber balls.”

I smacked him on the shoulder. “I want my Chiclets back.”

Before I could even consider what I’d said, his mouth was on mine. I opened my mouth, allowing his tongue to glide across my tongue. Our skin was slick with rain, and I could make out the contours of his muscles as I slid my fingers over his clinging t-shirt. His hands seized my ass, pulling me up and around him as he pressed me against the door to my apartment. Every movement, every slight change in his body mirrored mine in natural, graceful precision. His lips traced secrets down my neck coming to rest at the top of my breasts.

“We should get out of these wet clothes,” I breathed into his ear.

Liam set me down on the floor and pulled off his shirt. Without his lips to distract me, I realized the amount of gum in my mouth had doubled.

“Did you just pass off your Chiclets to me?” I asked, popping my shoes off my feet.

“You said you wanted them back.” He grinned as he unbuttoned the fly of his jeans.

“If you can’t appreciate a thing of beauty...” I yanked my sweater over my head. Liam’s eyes drooped lustily to my breasts.

“Believe me, I appreciate beauty.”

I dropped the rest of my clothes in a wet pile by the door and raised an eyebrow at Liam. He met my challenge by dropping his jeans, revealing the swell of him in his tight, gray boxer briefs.

“It’s true what they say about Scots,” I said.

Liam reached for me, and I met him with urgency as we stumbled down the hall to my bedroom. His hands wandered like a traveler exploring a new and foreign country—excited and hesitant at the same time. When we tumbled onto my bed, I pulled my lips from his.

“We can stop,” he said, but even as he extended the invitation I knew neither of us could go back.

“I feel scared,” I admitted through panting breaths.

“Look at you using ‘I’ terms,” he whispered. “Professor Markson would be proud.”

“Clearly, I deserve an A in that class.” I giggled nervously as his hand trailed along my bare stomach, tracing the outline of my belly button and igniting a ring of fiery longing deep within my core.

“What are you scared of?” he asked.

I nuzzled my face into his neck and held my breath for a moment before I answered. “I’m no good at this. At relationships.”

“I think you’re wrong about that.” His hand stroked my hair from my face.

“I fuck them up. I don’t know how to be a good girl.”

“Exactly what is a good girl?” he asked. “Because you’re smart and passionate and funny, which lands you squarely in good girl territory for me.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m mean. You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

“I’ve heard you talking about Jess and Cassie,” he reminded me. “You are good at relationships.”

Except for all the times I’d pushed them away or yelled at them for trying to help me. Liam had no idea how big of a bitch I could be.

“I don’t fuck Jess and Cassie,” I pointed out.

“I need you to understand something, Jillian,” Liam said in a low voice, his words warm against my hair. “You don’t fuck me either. Not anymore. We make love.”

I bit back a laugh at this. “That’s something that I’m definitely not any good at.”

“Lucky for you, I’m an excellent teacher.” He pushed my hair aside and gripped my chin, bringing my lips to meet his. The kiss was soft and deep, slipping into something serious. His hands didn’t waver. Instead, he held my face and my belly with gentle strength, forcing me to focus on the press of our lips. His tongue brushed the back of my teeth, and I nipped at it, causing him to growl lowly and shift his body, but he didn’t bring it into closer contact with mine. Our tongues massaged into one another’s, and he sucked mine tenderly, sending a thrill pulsing between my legs. I could feel myself growing hotter as my body squirmed trying to get closer to him. But he didn’t relent on the kiss, and I found myself falling deeper into a haze of lust and longing, eager for his hands to explore my body, ready to press my skin against his.