Page 3

And just like that, Liam Carter is standing beside me, casual as anything, arm wrapped around my waist like it belongs there. He's looking at me, not Andrew, but there's amusement dancing in his eyes, and—God help me—a damn smirk playing on his lips.

"Sorry I took so long," he murmurs, like this is a thing we do all the time, like he knows my body intimately instead of just… knowing my brothers and tormenting me for fun.

I don't have the mental bandwidth to process any of this, so I do what any rational woman in my position would do. I go completely still and let my brain short-circuit.

Andrew blinks. "Oh." A pause, then a slightly forced smile. "I… didn't realize you two were?—"

Liam tilts his head, tightening his hold on me just slightly. "Together?"

I can actually hear the laugh in his voice.

Andrew looks between us, clearly recalculating everything. I should correct this. I should say something. But my mouth refuses to cooperate, and Liam, fully aware of my temporary paralysis, chooses violence.

He turns to me, eyes warm, voice teasing. "You okay, sweetheart?"

Oh, he's enjoying this.

And that is what finally jump-starts my system.

I glare up at him, careful to keep my smile in place. "Perfect," I say through clenched teeth.

Liam's smirk deepens.

Andrew exhales a laugh, nodding politely. "Well, that's… great! I guess your brothers will be relieved to hear you're off the market."

I almost choke. Oh, my brothers will be relieved, all right. Relieved of Liam's pulse once they hear about this.

Liam chuckles, giving my waist one last squeeze before finally letting me go. "Good seeing you, man."

Andrew nods, takes the hint, and departs, leaving me alone with my traitor of a fake boyfriend.

I round on him. "What?—"

"You're welcome," he drawls, already walking away.

I swear to God, one of these days, I'm going to kill him.

But not before I figure out why the way he just touched me still lingers on my skin.

It takes me a bit to compose myself, but when I'm finally stable enough, I join everyone on the dance floor. I dance with Emily, with my aunts, with Nate, who dramatically dips me halfway through a song and nearly drops us both. I even dance with Ryan, who pretends not to notice when I steal his drink mid-spin.

I do not dance with Liam.

But I feel him.

Every glance, every brush of awareness. It's like there's a current running beneath my skin, a quiet, insistent whisper that builds each time I catch him watching me from across the room. And I do catch him. Again and again.

He's careful. Strategic. But I know when a man is looking at me.

And the way Liam Carter looks at me tonight? It's different.

It's risky.

By the time the reception winds down, my pulse is an erratic, restless thing, and I know I need air. Space. An escape. But before I can slip away, a warm hand wraps around my wrist.

I freeze.

Then I look up to see Liam's gaze fixed on my mouth. His fingers tighten just slightly. "Come with me."