Page 5 of Cruel When He Smiles (Sinners of Blackthorne U #3)

Nate

I try to put the other night out of my head.

I don’t want to think about the way Liam looked at me, how he stepped into my space, or how he spoke in that low voice that was trying to pull something out of me I don’t fucking have.

I don’t want to think about the way my breath stuttered, or how, for a split second, I wasn’t sure what the fuck he was getting at.

I hate that I reacted at all.

So, I start my day as usual. I get up early, down a protein shake, and go for a run to clear my head. It helps. The burn in my legs, the steady rhythm of my feet hitting pavement, the crisp morning air cutting through the leftover fog in my brain.

It all reminds me that I’m real, grounded, and not whatever the fuck Liam thinks he sees when he looks at me. By the time I hit the showers and change for class, I almost feel normal again.

The field of Sports Medicine isn’t something people get excited about, but I enjoy it. It makes sense. It’s logical. It’s about understanding the body, knowing how to fix it when it breaks, and knowing how far you can push before it gives.

I appreciate a clear cause and effect, that injuries follow patterns, that you can take something damaged and put it back together. It’s the opposite of everything else in my life—it makes sense.

So here I am, ready to give twelve or so years of my life away because I found something worth living for aside from soccer. Something just for me .

My first two classes fly by, and I let myself sink into the routine of it. Taking notes, tuning out the bullshit, keeping my head down. No one is looking at me sideways, no one is whispering about what happened at the party, no one is bringing up Liam. I can pretend none of it happened.

Then lunch rolls around, and Sage finds me.

“Tell me why you look less miserable than usual,” he says, dropping his tray onto the table across from me.

I smirk. “Because I’m having a good day.”

Sage raises an eyebrow. “Seriously, though,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “You good?”

I exhale, rolling my shoulders. “Yeah. Just need to get through today.”

He hums. “Right. And by get through today, you mean surviving another mandatory therapy session with your bestie?”

I flip him off. “Eat your food.”

He snickers but lets it go.

The rest of lunch is easy. Sage keeps the conversation moving, and for a while, I almost forget about what’s coming next.

I can pretend I don’t have to sit in a room with Liam Callahan. I can pretend he’s just some normal guy I happened to punch during practice. But then the clock keeps ticking, and before I know it, I’m standing outside Dr. Ellis’s office, forcing myself to go in.

Liam is already there, casually leaning back in his chair. He looks up when I walk in, and his hazel eyes gleam. It’s as if he knows I spent the entire day trying to forget about him.

I ignore it and drop into the chair, slouching slightly, making it clear I don’t want to be here. Dr. Ellis glances between us before offering her usual tight smile. “Good to see you both.”

I don’t respond. Liam does.

“It’s always a pleasure, Dr. Ellis,” he says smoothly.

She nods approvingly, then turns to me. “Nate, how has your week been?”

I shrug. “Fine.”

She waits, clearly thinking I’m going to elaborate, but I don’t. Liam does it for me.

“Nate’s had a busy week,” he says, his voice light, conversational. “You should’ve seen him at the frat party last week. Really let loose.”

I turn my head slowly, meeting his gaze. His expression is relaxed and friendly, but his eyes are filled with glee. I know what he’s doing.

I force a smirk. “Yeah, you seemed really interested in watching me.”

His lips twitch and Dr. Ellis clears her throat. “Well, let’s focus on why we’re here, shall we?”

I don’t move or break eye contact with Liam. I don’t let him think he won whatever this is, but I see the act, though. It might be because I grew up surrounded by manipulation that I can spot a monster hiding behind a kind smile.

Dr. Ellis starts talking about emotional regulation, about ways to de-escalate situations, about how I need to recognize why I lash out. I barely listen because I don’t need to. I know why I lash out. I know why I get angry. I know why I’m sitting in this fucking chair.

And I know that Liam Callahan is watching me like I’m a goddamn experiment.

“So, Nate,” Liam says suddenly, cutting through Dr. Ellis’s words as though he wasn’t even listening either. “What are you working on these days?”

I blink, caught off guard by the change in direction. “What?”

He tilts his head, smiling like he’s just making conversation. “Your major. Med field, right? That’s gotta be tough.”

I narrow my eyes. “Yeah. And?”

He shrugs. “Just curious.”

No, he’s not. I don’t know what the fuck he’s doing, but it’s not curiosity. It’s not small talk.

I grip the armrests of my chair. “Psych, right?”

His lips quirk up. “You’ve been paying attention.”

I grit my teeth. “Yeah. Makes sense. You like fucking with people’s heads.”

Dr. Ellis sighs. “Nate—”

As Liam’s smile widens, I know I just gave him exactly what he wanted. “It’s fascinating, don’t you think? The way people reveal things without even realizing it.”

My blood runs hot. He’s not talking about people; he’s talking about me.

I force myself to relax. “Yeah,” I say, voice even. “ Fascinating .”

Liam watches me for a second longer, then sits back, satisfied, while Dr. Ellis keeps talking, but I don’t hear her. Because now, I know Liam isn’t just a smug asshole.

He’s dangerous.

I’m out of the chair before Dr. Ellis can finish her last sentence.

The second she dismisses us, I grab my bag and shove through the door, not caring if it looks rude, not caring if she calls after me.

My pulse is pounding, and my body is thrumming with leftover adrenaline, the kind that makes my hands itch and my skin feel too fucking tight.

I don’t stop, don’t look back, and I don’t acknowledge the presence I know is behind me.

The rhythm of his steps is unhurried and smooth, like he has all the time in the world, while my legs move fast, taking me anywhere that isn’t here.

But I don’t get far.

“Look at you, scampering away.”

His voice is calm, sweet, fucking relentless, and I hate how it hooks under my skin and makes me react even though I swore I wouldn’t.

I turn and meet his gaze. “What do you want, Callahan?”

He smiles, lazy and amused. “You,” he says simply.

My stomach flips. No.

He doesn’t mean it like that. He’s fucking with me. He’s playing a game, testing limits, seeing how far he can push before I snap.

I scoff, rolling my shoulders, trying to shake the tension off. “You’re not funny.”

“Who said I was joking?”

Fuck this guy.

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

Liam chuckles, closing the distance between us, and I hate that I don’t step back. “And yet, you keep coming back for more.”

I grit my teeth, forcing my body to stay still, forcing myself not to react, not to give him anything. “I don’t have a choice, dumbass. We’re literally forced into these sessions together.”

“Sure,” he murmurs, still watching me too closely with a gaze that’s peeling me apart, layer by layer. “That’s the only reason, right?”

His voice is softer now, almost gentle, and it throws me off balance. There’s no mockery in it, no overt teasing, just a quiet, careful curiosity that I don’t trust. “You love hearing yourself talk, don’t you?”

He tilts his head, considering. “Not as much as I love watching you react to me.”

My pulse spikes, and I try to school my expression, but it’s too late—he sees it. The tiny shift in my breathing, how my hands twitch before I shove them in my pockets. His smile doesn’t widen, doesn’t turn smug, but there’s a change in them.

I roll my shoulders again, trying to shake the feeling. “You get off on this, don’t you?” I ask, keeping my tone flat and unaffected. “Fucking with people? Making them question themselves?”

Liam’s eyes spark with delight. “No.”

“Liar.”

His lips curve, and then—ever so slowly—he reaches out and touches my cheek. Just the briefest brush of fingers, warm against my skin, light enough that I could pull away… but I can’t.

His voice drops to a more intimate tone. “If I was fucking with you, Nate, you’d already be broken and on your knees for me.”

I slap his hand away and take a step back, my breaths coming too fast. “Don’t touch me,” I say, but it doesn’t come out as steady as I want it to.

Liam just watches me, hands nonchalantly sliding into his pockets like he didn’t just get under my skin and shift the ground beneath me without even trying. His voice lowers a little more. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”

My stomach drops, and I know he means Sage.

I school my expression, forcing every muscle in my face to lock down. “Tell him what?”

Liam smiles slowly. “That I made you hard with one word.”

My breath catches and I hate that he’s close to right. I did get hard, and I still fucking hate myself for it.

“I’ve seen that look before,” he continues in a whisper. “The way your face went pale. How your thighs tightened. You felt dirty for liking it, didn’t you?”

I don’t say anything, because if I open my mouth, I’ll either scream or choke.

“But you did like it,” he continues. “Didn’t you, Pup?”

My whole body trembles, and I spin on my heel to walk off, feeling his gaze burning into my back.

I need to get the fuck away from him.