Do not engage.
“Liberty.” My stupid tongue answers without permission. Because let’s be honest, deep down, she knew the second he walked over my self-appointed sabbatical was in danger.
“Nice to meet you, Liberty.” He leans in closer. “Can I buy you that drink?” The smooth baritone of his voice deepens at the change of volume while his hot breath moves over my skin. A strong awareness of my heartbeat takes over, as again, I find myself having to work through the words to find the question he asked.
“I think I’m good.” I manage past the excessive moisture my mouth seems to have collected.
“Jesus, woman, I’m not sure if you’re always this difficult or it’s me, but you have some serious attitude.”
“I’m not sure if you’re always an ass, or it’s me, but being a huge dick won’t make yours grow bigger,” I counter, my comebacks growing bolder the longer this goes on.
“Invite me to sit with you for a drink and find out.”
I open my mouth to turn him down, but Fee beats me to it.
“Would you and your friends like to join us for a drink?”
That bitch.
“I’d like that. Let me grab a water and I’ll introduce you to my friends.” His smug gaze rakes down my body, those stupid dimples deepening when I raise a brow at his blatant checking me out.
When he doesn’t move away from me, I press. “Take your time.” He shakes his head with a soft chuckle before he steps away back toward the bar.
“Holy shit, Lib.” Payton pounces as soon as sexy-as-sin cop walks out of earshot.
“What the hell, Fee?” I ignore Payton and set my scowl on Fee.
“Sorry, I slipped.” She doesn’t look sorry; in fact, she looks satisfied.
Uggh.
“You can’t be angry.” Sophie comes to Fee’s defense. “If the roles were reversed, you would have done the same damn thing.” She’s not wrong. I probably would have.
“Yeah, besides,” Fee pipes back up, “maybe you were too busy eye-fucking cocky McCocky pants, but did you see his friends? A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.” She fans herself with the bar coaster. I turn in my chair and catch a glimpse at the rest of the guys sitting at the bar with Dimples.
Jesus, she’s not wrong.
“Ugggh, fine. But you owe me.” I turn back, reach out, snatch the coaster from her grasp, and start waving it in front of my face. The light fan of air does nothing to cool me down after the encounter, so I drop it back to the table.
“Please, by the end of the night you’ll be thanking her.” Payton raises her glass in a toast, encouraging us to follow suit. “Here’s to saying fuck the sabbatical, and hello wild sex to piss our neighbors off.”
Jesus, why did she have to go there?
“And then what happened?” I ask Hetch, more enthralled in his story than anyone else sitting at the table. Thirty minutes, three drinks, and one interesting story later, my sabbatical is more in danger than I care to admit.
After Dimples had returned to the table with his water and friends, he offered me his name.
Liam Hetcherson.
Hetch.
Ugghh, even his name is worthy of abandoning a sex ban.
“We had to wait it out. Then I was able to talk him down. We got there in the end.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal while I’m left looking at him in a different light.
Hetch is a badass.
A sexy-as–sin badass.
I’m officially ruined.
“So, what do you do, Liberty?” he asks, taking the attention off him for a minute. Since the moment he sat down, he’s had my full attention, walking me through the craziness of his work. I think it’s part of his game plan, since talking about a day in the life of a SWAT officer equals panties melted.
“Well, I can’t say it’s anything as exciting as your line of work, but I’m a youth worker. I’m the program director at Boys Haven.” There’s a slight shift in the tilt of his head, before some kind of understanding flashes in his eyes.
“The big house over on 5th, right?”
“Yeah, you been there?”
“No, but I’ve driven past it a few times.” The easy smile he’s been wearing twists into a grim line.
Ignoring his shift in attitude, I continue to chat about the kids I work with and how much I love it. He listens intently for the most part but doesn’t engage with any questions. Eventually, I fall quiet, the silence between us growing more awkward than comfortable.
“You okay?” I finally ask, wondering where I lost him.
“Ah, yeah.” He clears his throat before taking a sip of his drink. “Just remembering someone.” I don’t push on his weird reaction; instead, I let the silence grow between us and take in the rest of the table’s conversation.