one I want.”
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she moved to stand in front of him. She bared herself so that she could reach for his hands, pulling them toward her.
“I want you. See?” she said, pressing his hands against her breasts.
Her eyes, her face pleaded with him. He felt the warm softness of her beneath his hands. Wanted so much to haul her to him and take what she was offering.
He forced himself to keep his hands unresponsive, to push her away instead of drawing her closer. She gasped.
He stooped to grab her T-shirt.
“Get dressed,” he said.
She just stared at him, her arms once more crossed protectively.
“I love you, Liam,” she said. “Please don’t do this.”
“You’ll thank me one day,” he said.
He dropped the T-shirt onto the end of the bed and turned his back on her, walking to the window so he wouldn’t have to look at her a second longer. He would never forget how she looked, standing there with her eyes so full of pain and confusion.
The rush of movement and the sound of the door slamming signaled her exit. He closed his eyes.
So close. He’d come so close to taking something that wasn’t his. Something perfect.
He crossed to the bed and sat on the edge, his head in his hands. Images from the past few minutes flashed across his mind. Zoe’s breasts, damp from where he’d kissed her. Her eyes, heavy with need. The hitch in her breathing when he’d slid his hand between her legs.
He knew what he had to do. He pulled out the duffel bag from beneath his bed. It didn’t take him long to pack. Life had taught him to travel light. He hesitated a moment before grabbing the photograph he kept hidden in the biker magazines beside his bed. Tom and him and Zoe, laughing last summer as they attacked each other with water pistols. He slid it into his back pocket then headed for the door.
His motorbike was in the garage and he wheeled it carefully past Mr. Ford’s Mini and Mrs. Ford’s sensible Volvo wagon. He propped it on its stand at the end of the driveway in the circle of light from a streetlamp and settled in to wait for Tom to come home.
Liam was stiff and his ass was numb from sitting on the cold concrete curb before Tom turned the corner at two in the morning. Liam stood as his friend stopped in front of him, a smile on his face.
“Mate. What are you doing out here?” Tom was hazyeyed, a bit drunk. “Why’d you leave so early, you bastard?
Party was just getting started. Sally was mighty pissed with you, let me tell you.”
Then he registered Liam’s bike, the duffel bag strapped on the back. His smile faded.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m heading off. Time to move on,” Liam said.
Tom frowned. “What? What do you mean?”
Don’t want to overstay my welcome,” Liam said with a shrug.
“No way. You can’t go like this. Mom’ll freak out. Dad’ll have a cow. God knows what Zoe will do. You know she worships the ground you freakin’ walk on.”
Liam pulled the letter he’d written from his back pocket. It wasn’t much—a bare thanks, a thin explanation, plus all the cash he had on him to pay for his bills to date. It would have to do.
Tom stared at the envelope, refusing to take it.
“I can’t believe you’re serious. What happened? Have you heard from your dad? If he’s hassling you, we can go to the cops,” Tom said.
“I just have to go.”
Tom stared at him, his green eyes, so like Zoe’s, searching Liam’s face. Then he crossed to the bike and tugged the keys from the ignition, sliding them into his pocket.
“Hey!”
“Tell me what happened and I’ll give them back,” Tom said.
“Nothing happened.”
“Bull.”
“Give me the keys, Tom. All you need to know is that I’m doing the right thing.”
“Sneaking off in the middle of the night? Yeah, really noble.”
“Give me the keys.” Liam moved forward, but Tom backed away.
“Tell me what’s going on.”
Liam swore and lunged at his friend. Tom dodged to the side.
“Tom…” Liam warned.
He lunged again, and again Tom slipped away.
“Tell me.”
“No.”
“Tell me.”
Liam feinted to the left then grabbed a handful of Tom’s shirt when he tried to veer right. They wrestled in silence, grabbing fistfuls of each other’s clothing, not wanting to hurt each other. After a few minutes they broke apart. They eyed each other, fighting for breath. The words were in Liam’s throat and out his mouth before he could think twice.
“It’s Zoe,” he said. “I can’t stay because of Zoe.”
Tom frowned. “Because she’s got a crush on you? I know she can be a pain, but it’s not that bad…”
Liam stared at him, letting the silence grow. Tom jerked his head in sudden realization.
“No way,” he said, shaking his head.
“Nothing happened.”
Tom took a step away, then stepped forward again, still shaking his head.
“You and my sister? Tell me this is a joke.”
Liam knew what Tom was thinking. He’d heard Liam talk about girls, knew he’d had more than his fair share over the past few years. Knew Liam never stayed long after he got what he wanted.
“Nothing happened. I sent her back to the house before things got out of hand.”
“Jesus! What the hell was she doing alone with you anyway? How long has this been going on for?”
Liam shook his head. “It hasn’t. I mean, I’ve always liked her. But I’ve never touched her before.”
Tom swore and threw his hands in the air. “You touched my sister?”
“I didn’t screw her, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Liam said.
Tom’s fist came out of nowhere, connecting
