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  Shooing away my concerns, and elbowing her husband in the side, Annie smiled brightly. “Of course we’re happy to have you. We both are.” She looked up at Paulie, not concealing her annoyance, her eyes practically shouting, “Mind your manners.” Paulie actually gasped from her elbow to his side and Liam covered his mouth to stifle his laughter.

  Luck must have been on my side. That, or Drea was just that perceptive. Walking over to us with a full tray of shots, she winked at Annie. “To the birthday girl.”

  We each took a glass, clinking them together before downing the clear liquid. “Shit, that reminds me of college.” Coughing, I dropped the glass back onto the tray as the 151 burned a path down my throat.

  Liam had no such issues, easily swallowing his shot and the spare one that Annie hadn’t taken. Assuming the reason for her refusal was also the reason for the shocked look on Drea’s face, Annie quickly excused Paulie and herself to go and greet other guests. Drea trailed behind them like a lost puppy.

  When I turned to look at Liam, a similar look of shock was on his face. His jaw was locked tight, so tight it looked like he might crack a tooth. “So,” I dragged out the word, wondering why the hell Liam was so pissed off.

  Liam gave me no response, walking away from me and toward the bar. By the time I caught up to him, he’d already ordered another round of shots. Figuring the night was only getting started, I joined him in one more shot. I declined the next round, but watched on in amazement as he downed his fifth shot within a matter of ten minutes.

  “You better slow down.” Liam was a grown man and could make his own decisions and maybe he had a high tolerance, but, in my experience, being as angry as he seemed to be and drinking was never a good combination.

  Without moving his body an inch, he graced me with a rather seething look. “What the hell is your problem?” I snapped.

  “Nothing,” he grumbled. Shifting his position, he rested his elbows on the bar top and cradled his head in his hands. “Look, it’s nothing, okay.” Finally turning his head to me, his tone softened. There was so much pain in his eyes it bordered on anguish. My gut told me a man like Liam wouldn’t deal well with pity, so instead of pushing the issue, I tipped my chin to the bartender, who was starting to become overwhelmed with the growing crowd.

  After she handed me the round I’d ordered, Liam’s eyes widened in shock. “Calm down. I didn’t get these for you.” In quick succession, I downed the two shots. Slowly, and with determined purpose, I dragged the back of my hand across my lips. Liam’s tongue darted out of his mouth, licking his own lips, almost as if he was subconsciously reacting to my own movements. Angling my head out to the dance floor, I reached down for his hand. “Let’s go.” Even if he’d thought I was asking—which I wasn’t—he didn’t answer.

  With his feet glued firmly to the spot, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Look, you don’t have–”

  Stroking my thumb over the soft skin of his wrist, I interrupted him. “I know I don’t have to do anything, but right now, I want to dance. So unless you have some kind of objection to my body moving up against yours, or to other people seeing us out there, then you have no choice.”

  Liam’s full lips quirked into a lazy grin, perhaps as a result of the alcohol, but I’d like to think it had more to do with me. “I don’t care who sees us,” he said with a carefree honesty.

  “Good. Then let’s give them a show.”

  For the briefest of seconds, I worried that maybe Liam didn’t dance, and that we were about to make terrible, drunken fools of ourselves, but that concern was all resolved when he started swaying his hips to the music. Shocked into staying still, I watched from his side, more than admiring the way his body swayed and popped. “Those are some mighty fine moves you’ve got there.” His joke was barely audible over the loud bass of the band, playing a cover of a rock song I’d heard once or twice. But his smile. Fuck, even in the dim, near-black nothingness of the bar, his smile lit up the room and it made it impossible not to fall in line behind him.

  My hands fell to his hips, pulling his back right up against my front. With his ear right next to my mouth, I said, “I couldn’t get my brain, my feet, and my dick”—I pressed up against him as I pulled him back toward me to let him feel exactly what I’d meant—“to work all at the same time. Clearly, my body can only control two at a time.” Liam’s hands covered mine on his hips, his body gracefully undulating to the pulsing beat of the next, much slower, song.

  Spinning to face me, he dropped his arms around my neck. Speaking just loud enough to be heard, he pressed his lips against my ear, sending an endless river of excitement coursing against my skin. “I like the way your body works.”

  My hands found their way into his back pockets, squeezing the hard muscle of his ass. “Your body works pretty well, too.” Pressing my thigh in between his, I felt the hard heat of his erection. Almost as if there was nothing between us, I could feel his pulse beating along what I imagined was a thick vein running from his sac to his tip. My mouth watered at the thought of feeling it beat against my tongue. He adjusted his stance, allowing his dick to press up against mine and I barely concealed my pleasure, groaning into his ear. If the song had lasted a minute longer than it did, I would have come in my pants like some lust-ridden teenager jerking off for the first time.

  Liam pulled back from me, angling his face in a way that caught the yellow-white glow of the lights he’d strung up earlier. Not for the first time, I was struck by how attractive he was. Everything about him was the definition of male beauty. From the naturally tanned skin and amber-brown eyes, to the day-old scruff dusting his jawline, to the rock hard muscles moving against mine; Liam was everything I wanted in a man.

  And just as that thought barreled through my brain like a train inches away from derailing, he smiled at me—a gorgeously lopsided grin that somehow settled something in my brain and my body.

  When I tried to make sense of it all, the band shifted gears once again, belting out the words to what was apparently Annie’s favorite song. The crowd quite literally went wild, filling what little space was left on the dance floor. We all moved together, laughing and having a genuinely good time.

  Honestly, it was the most fun I had in recent memory. Watching Liam dance with his friends, getting lost in the music myself, it was as if I found a piece of myself I’d always been looking for. Or, to be more accurate, it was as if I found a part of myself I used to possess, but had somehow lost long ago.

  Modeling your own life after someone else’s standards, and constantly seeking their approval, was a swift way to make sure you never learn how to make yourself happy. And yet, here with Liam and his friends, I found a sliver of it. And that small piece was enough to spark the need for the rest of the pieces I’d lost along the way.

  After a few more songs, I was in desperate need of some water. Pulling Liam away from the crowd, I told him I was heading to the bar. He nodded, not willing to walk away with me, but he was having so much fun, I didn’t think anything of it. Honestly, I found myself eager to simply sit back and watch him for a few minutes.

  But I wasn’t lucky enough for that. With the rim of the ice-cold glass a centimeter from my lips, Gabe took up the space next to me at the bar. Since nearly everyone else was out on the dance floor, we could talk without the fear of being overheard, which, based on the look on his face, was a real concern.

  “He’s not like other guys.” Gabe’s unease was thinly veiled at best.

  But my inner wise-ass couldn’t help but say, “Oh yeah? He have a third nipple or something like that?”

  Choking on his beer, Gabe laughed hard. “Good one.” He held up his glass, clinking it against mine. Finally taking a sip, I let the ice cold water slide down my throat. Of course I couldn’t help but imagine swallowing something else entirely, but based on the look on Gabe’s face, I could tell now was most definitely not the time.

  “Sit?” Angling my chin over to
a small table near the edge of the room, Gabe nodded and led the way. When we were sitting down, I finished off the last of my water, hoping that he’d say something first. When it was clear that wasn’t going to happen, I finally asked, “So you obviously wanted to say something.” It wasn’t the warmest of prompts, but Gabe wasn’t offended by it.

  After downing the last of his beer, he dropped his mug to the table and held my inquisitive stare. “I don’t know why I even opened my mouth.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. “He’d kill me if I said anything more than I already have, so I won’t, but just . . .”

  The struggle to find his next words was real and palpable, a physical force bubbling around us. It made me wonder what the hell both he and Liam were hiding, who Liam was, and what made him “different” as Gabe had suggested.

  With an abruptness I hadn’t expected, Gabe shot up from his chair. As quietly as he could, without fear of the music drowning him out, he said, “No matter what kind of front he puts up, just know he’s in need of love.” Before turning away from me and heading out the doors, he said, “The kind I couldn’t give him.”

  As if she’d known what Gabe had said to me, Drea walked past, dropping another glass of ice cold water in front of me. Without saying a word, she smiled and winked, reassuring me that somehow everything would be okay.

  How was it possible that in the short span of a few hours, these people, who had known and clearly loved Liam for years, but who had only just met me, made me feel more at home than my own family ever had? That thought alone had me shaking my head through the end of the next song.

  When the band made their final call for the night, playing a cover of Green Day’s “Good Riddance,” Liam found his way over to me and dragged me back out onto the dance floor. Surrounded by him and his friends, we sang the lyrics too loud, danced with too much enthusiasm, and drank in every last drop of our youth, just as the song suggested.

  “Give me your keys.” Not an ounce of liquor had passed my lips since that last shot before we started dancing. Unfortunately, I couldn’t say the same for Liam. He’d definitely slowed down since knocking back those first few shots, but he hadn’t stopped completely. Most definitely in no shape for driving, I even questioned whether he was well enough to take care of himself for the night.

  Beyond tipsy, I saw the flash of his desire to fight me about driving in his eyes. Before it even really sprang fully to life, he let it pass, leaning his back up against the passenger door. “If you want the keys,” he slurred with a touch of sexy playfulness, “then you’re going to have to get them yourself.” Arching his hips forward a touch, he told me, without using a single word, exactly where he had the keys.

  Shaking my head, I couldn’t help but laugh at him. He was kind of cute when he was drunk. And a hell of a lot less annoyed and frustrated. He certainly wasn’t an asshole. There was no point in hiding how much I liked this version of Liam, but the other version wasn’t as horrible as he sounded. Knowing I wanted to get to know both versions better, I played along. Figuring I might as well enjoy the playfulness while I could, I deliberately reached for his other pocket. Fishing my hand deep within the denim, I made sure to keep my eyes focused on his as my finger grazed against his groin, a long sensuous slide of heated skin and roughened denim. His sharp intake of breath competed with my own heavy breathing. His noise was decidedly hotter, so I gave it another go and ran my finger along his half-hardened dick, reveling in the change happening in his eyes.

  “Try the other one,” his gravelly voice suggested. Moving his hips subtly, he ground his now fully hard dick against my hand still jammed into his pocket.

  After adjusting the hand still in his pocket, I was able to do more than barely graze it with the side of my finger. Liam was now hard enough for me to crook two fingers around his thick head, the bulging ridge of it distinguishable even through the fabric. Slowly, I dipped my fingers into his other pocket, pulling the keys out in one swift move. When they were carefully tucked away in my own pocket, I returned to my plan.

  “You should learn not to tempt me, Liam.” The feel of his name in my mouth, moving past my lips made me think about doing something else entirely with my mouth. As my other hand made its best attempt to curl around the base of his cock, his eyes widened even more so. “Because you need to know, when I want something . . .” Beyond annoyed with touching him through his jeans, I abruptly pulled my hands out of his pockets. Moving so that my lips were pressed right against his ear, I whispered, while unbuttoning his jeans, “I’ll take it, even if it’s not offered so freely.”

  The second my hand wrapped around his bulging cock, a relaxed sigh flowed from his mouth. His body slumped against mine, his forehead resting against my shoulder. “Is that something you can deal with, Liam?” At the mention of his name, I tightened my grip. His head lolled forward even more, nuzzling against the heated skin of my neck.

  Shocking me, he licked the shell of my ear before pulling my earlobe in between his teeth. He bit down gently then licked over the same spot. “Yes,” he said on a hiss of pleasure. “I can more than deal with it.” His hand stroked at the back of my neck, toying with the strands of hair at my nape. Pulling on my hair, he gently coaxed my head to the side. As he licked a hot path down from my ear to the curve of my shoulder, he pushed his dick into my hand. Tenderly, almost in a suppliant and compliant way, he nibbled a path back up my neck, across my jaw, stopping just shy of taking my mouth. When he pulled away, I could see it in his face, written as clear as day.

  He’d never be the one to do the taking.

  “It’s what you need, isn’t it?” I asked, though I didn’t really need a verbal answer. It was spoken in every movement, whispered in every vibration, screamed in every shock of pleasure. “You need me to take control, don’t you?”

  My own cock bulged and pulsed behind the zipper of my jeans when he subtly nodded. It was in that moment that I realized exactly what Gabe had been talking about earlier, about Liam being different.

  He didn’t only need to give up control, he needed to give it to someone who could be responsible enough to take it, yet caring enough to earn it.

  When I looked deep into his dark brown eyes, I saw that he wanted me to be those things—at least for the time being. But I also saw the haze of alcohol lingering there. I saw the thin sheen of sweat coating his brow from dancing all night, the exhaustion of what looked like countless sleepless nights darkening the soft skin beneath his eyes.

  So even though it took every ounce of restraint I possessed, I let go of his dick, zipped him back up, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

  “Some other night, maybe. Tonight, I need to get you home and make sure you’re okay.”

  He didn’t protest, at least not verbally. A soft whimper filled the space between us before I opened the door behind him. When he slid into his seat, he barely concealed the look of need on his face, but it quickly gave way to the drunken stupor that had just been wavering on the horizon of his physical high.

  By the time I walked around the front of the car and sat in my own seat, he was still fumbling with the seatbelt. My large hand moved over his, steadying it. After securing the belt, I caressed my hand up his forearm, past his large bicep, up to his scratchy jaw.

  “Tonight, I’ll take care of you. Make sure you’re okay, and you know, conscious.” At least he still had a good enough humor to laugh with me. With a touch more seriousness, and neediness, I added, “And then tomorrow night, I’ll make good on all that taking we talked about.”

  By the time we pulled out of the parking lot, I knew I had made the right decision. Liam’s head slid from one side of the headrest to the other, near lifeless as he passed out from the combination of exhaustion and drink.

  As we pulled up to the house, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d been charged with an impossible and important task. To both care for and control the man sitting next to me. The same man who clearly had a past he was desperately trying to hide.

&n
bsp; Parking the car, I looked over at his face. Despite the fact he was peacefully relaxed in sleep, I knew I was most certainly up for the task; I only hoped he’d feel the same.

  “Hey.” Parker’s warm voice floated into my consciousness. A strong hand fell to my thigh, squeezing it gently. “You okay?”

  Just thinking about nodding hurt. Freaking blinking hurt. “Yeah,” I half-grunted, half-slurred, trying to make as little movement as possible. Even without doing anything, my head spun. Barely able to remember how much I’d had to drink, I tried my best to keep my head focused on the ceiling of my car.

  “You look okay, that’s for sure,” Parker joked as he unbuckled his seatbelt. As he moved from the car, the slight jostling of his seat moving next to mine, the car shifting with his weight made me feel even more like shit. The door popped open and a cool gust of air blasted into the car. “Come on.” Holding out his hand, Parker waited for me to take it. The only problem was that I knew if I looked down at my seatbelt, I’d throw up. Blindly, I fumbled for the buckle. It’s odd how something you do every single day becomes a monumental task when you’re piss-ass drunk. After my third attempt, at which I was sure Parker was laughing, or at least smiling about, my fingers and brain finally worked together. By the time the latch gave way, I felt like I’d run a fucking marathon.

  Sadly, my other hand was still catching up to what was going on and it didn’t move fast enough to catch the buckle as it flew up into my face. When the metal slapped against it, I had no choice but to move my head quickly to the side, making the beast that lay in wait wake up with a fierceness I hadn’t expected. “Ah fuck,” I yelled in shocked pain.

  “Oh, shit.” Parker leaned into the car to inspect my cheek, after which he promptly broke out into a full-blown laughter. “Sorry, but that was fucking hysterical. And you have a mark in the shape of a seatbelt buckle on your face.”