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Collided: Chapter 13

SOPHIE

After our Monaco cliff-diving disaster, I establish new boundaries with Liam. I went too far with him on the beach, flirting with disaster and pushing him to his limit. I devise a plan to prevent us from doing something dumb. Well, maybe to stop me from doing something stupid, like hooking up with him to satisfy a craving.

The first phase of my plan includes making myself look as unattractive as humanly possible. My ugliest and baggiest clothes protect me. Forget about makeup. Yesterday, Maya asked me if I was feeling all right. I grinned at her, telling her she made my day. All I got in return was a furrowed brow and confused eyes. Maya wouldn’t understand the complexity of the situation because I can’t, with Liam messing with my mind as much as my lower region. Never in my life did I think I could be led by lust, but here I am, striving to look half dead to deter the sexiest man in F1.

I only plan on doing friendship activities with Liam. Maybe if he sees me sweaty, dirty, and downright boyish, his attraction will end for me. Although the bulge in his swimsuit yesterday showed promise, I need it nowhere near me. And frankly, he can use some time without female companions because his dick has gotten more press coverage than a Kardashian.

This plan needs to work because I enjoy Liam’s friendship. I don’t want to lose him because of our attraction to each other. I’m very aware of my desires toward him, but I can be mature and not act on them. Liam just needs to get the memo.

Since Maya and I struggle with F1’s finest, we get to work together to avoid the objects of our attractions. Noah likes her, that part is obvious, but he doesn’t want a serious relationship. To be honest, I was impressed when he asked me to sit with her at the Monaco Grand Prix. His request is the reason I hang out in the stands with her, overlooking the finish line where I danced around with Liam a few days ago. The memory brings a smile to my face.

Maya preps for her vlog while I check out the cars being placed in their grid spots. Liam’s team situates his car near the front of the group, his steel-gray car noticeable.

The Monaco Grand Prix is a difficult course, requiring lots of skill and patience. Noah landed the pole position, my dad’s favorite spot on the whole grid. This track has many twists and turns, along with tight roads and narrow straights that make it difficult to overtake other drivers without damaging the cars. It’s a big challenge for anyone below P1 to win.

Red lights shine above the cars. Mechanics rush to remove the tire warmers from the wheels before running off the track. Once the lights shut off, the drivers accelerate. The crowd bursts with energy as the drivers careen down the road.

I love the comforting sound of cars rushing by. It reminds me of childhood summers spent with my dad while he worked, with him giving me headphones to listen to some of the best F1 drivers. He would let me talk to the racers for a few minutes on the team radio. It was the coolest thing ever when I was young, with my dad making me a huge fan since day one.

I focus on watching the race, rooting for Bandini and McCoy. Any fan can appreciate both teams continuously trying to one-up each other. Noah, an F1 icon in the making, doesn’t give other drivers much of an opportunity to pass him.

With Santiago on the team, it increases Bandini’s chances of winning the team’s Constructors’ Championship, which occurs at the same time as the World Championship. Despite Noah and Santi’s rough history, they have a chance of winning. Plus, if Bandini wins the World Championship, then they get the biggest funds to work on their cars. It would be a huge deal for the team because F1 teams spend heaps of money.

McCoy remains in a close second place spot with Liam at the wheel. Jax follows behind, leaving little space between the two McCoy cars. Despite his friendship with Liam, the two drivers compete savagely against one another, not letting up their positions easily.

Cars speed down the track, sounding like jets rushing by. Smoke billows from the tires as cars hit maximum speeds during the straights. Some drivers graze barrier edges before gaining control of their car again, the squealing sounds of tires echoing off the buildings.

Liam’s gray car passes us again as he clocks in another fast lap. He remains consistent on the track, his front wing keeping close to Noah’s rear as they turn together at another corner.

Sparks fly as his gray car hits a tight corner. The grating sound of crunching metal tearing against pavement makes a cold chill spread across my body. I cringe at the scene glistening under the sun, smoke billowing from the engine. The entire side of Liam’s car is totaled with the tire dislodged and rolling away. Liam remains in the cockpit of his car, hitting his helmet with closed fists.

My heart clenches at his defeated state, with me unable to do anything but watch. Drivers tend to be an emotional group of guys. Tensions, adrenaline, and passion fuel negative reactions when confronted with losses and mistakes.

I get up from my seat to get a better look.

“At least he’s safe. Poor guy.” Maya’s sweet voice rings over the crowd.

“He’s going to be pissed. That’ll be a blow to the World Championship and Constructors’.”

Liam has to retire, a hard loss for any racer. His crash will knock his standing for the World Championship, plus he forfeits points for the team’s Constructors’ Championship.

My hands shake as I grip the plastic chair in front of me, my legs locked in place as Liam is taken away in a safety car. They announce how physically he’s all clear. His medical clearance doesn’t make the knock to his ego any less powerful, his crash being a bitter pill to swallow with McCoy questioning his value to the team.

I no longer feel up to watching the race now that Liam is out of it. Noah ends up placing first, no shocker there.

For some ridiculous reason, I walk over to McCoy’s motorhome after the race.

Liam stands in a nearby hall with his agent and Peter McCoy. Peter sneers at Liam, his bald head gleaming under the overhead lighting while his face barely contains his rage.

My body plasters itself against a wall, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Liam looks unfairly sexy in his white race suit. Muscles press against the flameproof fabric, emphasizing a nice ass and strong legs. Most of his sweaty blonde hair sticks to his forehead while a few strands stand up in multiple directions. His lean frame towers over the two men, his spine straight and his jaw ticking under pressure.

“You’re not performing to our expectations. I question if you’re worth a fifteen-million-dollar contract. Crashes like that beg to differ. It’s something we’d expect from a young racer instead of a World Champion.” Peter’s baritone voice reverberates through the hall.

“I wonder if Bandini told Noah and Santiago the same thing when they crashed into each other in Shanghai. Can you imagine, the great Noah Slade, crashing into a teammate? He’s still considered worthy of his contract, and we stand on the same podiums at almost every Prix.” Liam’s words match his agitated glare.

I don’t blame him for being defensive because Peter seems like a total ass. My dad used to tell me how Peter yells at his racers after press conferences, and how he treats the pit crew like shit despite their help. His poor reputation precedes him.

“The thing you don’t get is that Noah Slade has won more titles than you, not to mention he doesn’t fuck around with James Mitchell’s family. His performance makes him a Champion and you a runner-up.” Peter sneers at Liam.

“Let’s not react based on strong emotions.” Rick attempts to diffuse the situation.

Liam’s nostrils flare. “I’d rather be an F1 runner-up than a piece of shit who sits in an office all day acting like a dick instead of using it.”

I suck in a breath. Holy shit, Liam’s really pissed.

Peter offers a sinister smile. “At least I don’t stick my dick where it doesn’t belong.”

My stomach churns at how crass Peter is when referencing his niece. Does he have any standards?

Liam’s agent gets involved. “I’m sure there’s a better way to get our feelings out. Peter, you don’t want to say things you don’t mean when you’re angry.” Rick pats Peter on the back.

I don’t like the way Rick acts around both of them, making me wary of Liam’s agent. Managers like him remind me of used car salesmen who want to make a quick buck. They act slick and thoughtful, but their sharp eyes give away how deep their insincerity runs.

“I think you need to re-examine your driving techniques and your attitude. You’re clearly too aggressive on and off the track lately.” Peter stabs a thick finger at Liam’s chest.

That can’t be farther from the truth. I hold back a laugh at the idea of Liam being hostile because he tends to be the safest driver out there. Peter holds an obvious grudge against Liam, dangling poor choices in front of him anytime he messes up.

“I’ll be sure to do just that.” Liam gives him a mock salute before walking away.

Liam’s tightly wound body walks in my direction, nearly barreling into me when he turns the corner. His body tenses as his stormy eyes land on me. Busted. I give him a pathetic wave and a small smile which he returns with a grimace, not amused by my presence.

“Liam—”

“Not here.” His clipped tone shuts me up.

He grabs onto the crook of my elbow and pulls us in a different direction from the entrance. My short legs struggle to keep up with Liam’s long strides. McCoy’s gray and white color palette lacks the warmth of the Bandini motorhome, cold silver accents gleaming under the bright lights, matching the personality of some of the staff here. We pass the dining room and bar before entering the private suite area. Liam doesn’t stop to talk to anyone, ignoring the few people who call his name.

He remains silent until we walk into his suite and he closes the door. I step toward the shelf housing his different helmets and gear, wanting to keep my hands busy with something. The small room becomes charged with energy as I remain turned away from Liam.

“How much of that did you hear?” His sharp voice is unlike his usual self.

“I showed up when Peter mentioned contract agreements.” My finger drags across the multiple helmets lined up on the shelf. Shiny plastic coating glistens, showing off Liam’s number and the German flag.

“Lovely. So basically everything.” Liam strolls up to my side.

I pick up one of his electric-blue helmets, the headgear weighing more than I imagined, making my arm drop with it. Liam’s hand covers mine, warming my skin at his touch. Rough calluses rub against the smooth skin of my knuckles. He looks down at our joined hands like he questions how they got in this position.

Liam lifts his head. I stare into his eyes, the swirling color entrancing me. His eyes lower to my lips before his eyebrows furrow. He puts the helmet back on the shelf while I step away from him, craving space and fresh air.

I fill the silence and palpable tension. “Peter’s an asshole. My dad never talks to his guys that way, no matter what they do. I doubt Bandini’s owner does either. That guy never gets involved because he’s too busy yachting near Greece.”

Liam’s eyebrows rise at my confession. I’d hardly count my admission as a Bandini secret because everyone knows how my dad takes care of his team.

“I make one mistake, and now it’s all about my contribution to the team. It’s frustrating and a lot of pressure with every move I make becoming a question of my skills. And Peter treats me like shit despite my efforts to make him happy. Sometimes it feels like Jax and my team principal are the only ones who have my back on this team.”

I can’t imagine how difficult it is for him to race with crazy expectations, keeping up with the demands of fans and the McCoy team.

Liam settles into one of the gray couches. He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up, abandoning his usual prim and properness.

I sit beside him, patting myself on the back for my bravery to get close. “Seems like a toxic work environment. There’s no love lost between you and Peter, that’s for sure. Are you sure you want to do this for years?”

“It’s the start of the season. I hope Peter gets over it since we still have fifteen races left.” He lets out a deep sigh that makes my heart squeeze.

I lean my head back against the couch, mirroring Liam’s body posture. We both stare at the white ceiling. Liam’s deep breaths even out as his body loosens, no longer stiff from his pent-up agitation.

I don’t press him to talk anymore, preferring to sit in comfortable silence. I thought conversations were a big indication of how much two people got along. Sitting here with Liam, saying nothing, makes me consider how silence is underrated.

Liam’s hand finds mine again. His finger traces the curves and contours of my hand. My heart rate increases, my body flushing from the mere contact with him. He gives my hand a squeeze before pulling away. I frown, unsure why I feel a loss when he gives me the space I want.

Liam’s slowly worming himself into my life. I need to set clear boundaries again, especially when the briefest touch sends goosebumps up my arm. He’s not capable of loving someone like me, and I’m not able to tease apart love and lust. We’re a lethal combination.

I take a deep breath before ruining our silence. “You know I can come over and visit before races. Protect you from Peter.” I put my fists up and punch the air, giving my best boxer impersonation.

Liam chuckles. “I’d like that. If you came over, that is… Minus the fists, though. Save them for someone about two sizes smaller than you.”

“So basically, a toddler.” I turn my head to find him looking at me, his eyes shining under the dim lights. My lungs stop working as Liam’s smile expands.

He drops his smile, his eyes darkening. “I want to ask you something.”

“What?”

His eyes run over my face, lingering on my lips. “Why do you want to be friends?”

I take a whole minute to answer. “Because you’re funny. And you’re not too bad to look at either, so I guess that’s a plus.”

“But why do you deny our chemistry?”

I swallow back the rock-sized lump in my throat. “I don’t. You’re not used to being around a girl who’s interested in getting to know you for more than your acrobatic bedroom skills.”

He battles a smile. “One day, you’re going to submit, and I can’t wait to show you how much you’ll regret waiting.”

I fake gasp. “Are you trying to tell me you’re a Dominant?”

Liam and I have a way of screwing around with each other, and it happens to be one of my favorite things about our friendship. I don’t want to risk that for a meaningless hookup throughout the season.

“You need to read less of those books you like. I don’t need to assert myself since you’ll come begging when you’re ready.” He knocks me back with a telling smile.

I can’t help the way my body hums with excitement at his words. But keeping to my usual pattern with everything Liam-related, I brush his comments aside, hiding behind armor that looks an awful lot like cowardice. I’m very aware of my weakness. Sadly, I have enough insight to admit my fear and my incapability of letting loose and taking risks.

I shake my head. “You have an active imagination. I’m glad that hasn’t disappeared with age and all.”

“It gets me through the weeks.” He rubs a palm down his face as he grumbles something about sexual frustration. His cheeks deepen in color.

Oh. Oh.

I drop my head back against the couch and laugh. For some reason, my body tingles at the idea of him alone in his room at night, pleasuring himself. Images run through my mind and invade my thoughts.

His hoarse voice cracks my resolve. “You’re looking a little red. Does that turn you on? Knowing I go to bed alone, staring at the ceiling while my fist pumps my cock?”

Oh my God. I want to bury myself into the cushions and disappear. My breathing grows heavier, unable to rid his words from my head.

“Ask me what I think about with my cock stiff and aching for the real deal?” His voice drops low, the husky tone lighting me up from the inside out.

I don’t dare ask him if he thinks about me.

He eats up the space on the couch as his fingers grip my chin.

“No.” My voice squeaks. I try to break away from his grasp, but his eyes hold mine hostage.

My heart beats wildly against my chest while my fingers clutch onto the leather couch. Blue eyes bore into mine, reading me like he always does, sensing my lies with a glance.

“I think about a blonde woman who’s too damn afraid to admit she wants to be there with me, sucking me off before letting me fuck her into oblivion. I can’t get a particular someone out of my head who hides behind a friendship because she doesn’t want to face shit head-on. My cock aches for a woman who acts fearless to others but runs at the first sign of my interest. Tell me why you are so keen on denying what we both crave?”

“I…well…” That’s the best I can come up with?

He chuckles, his hand moving away from my chin. “I’ll be waiting for you to make a move. Like I said, I’m a patient man with nothing to lose.”

“Besides friendship?” I grumble under my breath before rising from my seat.

“We both don’t want a friendship. Friends don’t feel how we do about each other.” His nonchalance pisses me off.

“Well, do. Just because we’re attracted to each other doesn’t mean anything more than that.”

“Glad you admitted how you’re into me. Was it that hard?” He smiles at me.

Well, shit.

“I didn’t mean…”

He tilts his head to the side. “It’s okay to let go and have fun.”

At what expense? His brand of fun looks a lot like missed calls, other women, and an end-of-season trophy of being the biggest loser.

I straighten my spine and look him straight in the eyes. “If you keep making things weird, I won’t hang out with you anymore.”

He laughs, his eyes sparkling. “We both know that won’t happen when you like me too much and I find you too fucking irresistible.”

I hate how handsome he looks. Almost as much as I hate the way my heartbeat picks up while looking at him, silently acknowledging how much my body craves the things he shared today. I really dislike how his words burn inside of me and eat away at my reasoning.

“I’m leaving now. If I don’t answer any of your apology texts, it’s because I’m ignoring your ass until Canada.”

His laugh is the last thing I hear before I shut the door of his suite. My back presses against the metal frame, my hand clutching onto my star necklace while I gather my thoughts.

Holy shit. What the hell is happening here?


I flip my pillow over, craving the cool side as I toss and turn in bed. My mind won’t calm down, my thoughts reeling from my earlier conversation with Liam, wondering if he stays awake thinking of me.

What the hell did he do, opening up Pandora’s box, letting out our hidden desires?

Okay…more like my hidden desires.

I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling. My eyes close as my fingers trail the hem of my underwear, running across the cotton. Thoughts of Liam take over, of him getting himself off to the idea of me, of him staying up late thinking of me. I dip a finger inside of my underwear and press my thumb against my clit. My other hand rubs against my pebbled nipples, goosebumps breaking out across my skin as I think of Liam touching me. My finger brushes against my entrance before dipping inside of me.

My phone buzzing on the nightstand interrupts me. I ignore it, choosing to focus on my task, but the repeated vibrating disturbs me. The charger rips from the wall as I rush to grab my phone, not looking before answering.

“What?” my hoarse voice croaks.

“I’m sorry for being a dick earlier. I didn’t mean to flirt with you… Well, that’s a lie. But I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with me. Don’t ignore me. Please?” Liam’s voice carries through the speaker.

My cheeks warm as I think of what I was doing minutes before. Here he is apologizing when I’m just as guilty of doing what he admitted earlier, thinking of him while getting myself off. What a messed-up situation.

I groan. “It’s okay. Let’s pretend it didn’t happen.”

“But what if I don’t want to pretend?”

My heart clenches at his vulnerability. “We aren’t pretending in general; we’re only ignoring what happened today.”

“Just like you want to ignore what you’re doing awake at three in the morning, your voice strained and needy?”

No freaking way he knows what I’m up to. He fishes for a response, testing my control. Don’t give in.

“Liam…stop.” My breathy voice fails to hide how I feel.

“Admit it. You were touching yourself. I dare you to lie to me.”

“Nope,” I say fast. Too freaking fast.

He laughs. A rough, sexy laugh that makes my legs clench together. “You suck at lying.”

“Okay, fine. I was touching myself. Happy now? Drop it.” I groan in frustration.

“No can do. Bet your greedy fingers crave to sink inside of you. I’m sure it turns you on to think of me getting myself off to the image of your hands on my dick.”

“Uh.” I will neither confirm nor deny, seeing as Liam can tell when I lie anyway.

“Let’s pretend, Sophie. Imagine me there with you, my body pressing against yours as my fingers run against your thighs, heat following where my fingers touch. Your needy clit throbbing for my touch while your pussy desires my tongue. Put me on speaker. Now.”

“What happened to you waiting for me to give in?”

“You gave in the moment your fingers touched your clit to the image of me. Don’t play coy with me.”

I dislike his perceptiveness.

He doesn’t let me get a word in. “Get this shit going, I’m done being patient today. My dick is throbbing at the idea of you touching yourself.”

My fingers rush to press the speaker button, the sounds of sheets rustling on Liam’s end echoing in my room.

What the hell are you doing? Having phone sex with him? You’re 110% going to regret this one.

“Stop thinking. Close your eyes and fucking feel.” His clipped voice fills me with excitement. “Touch yourself while your other hand palms your tit. Imagine my calloused hands running against your skin, lingering where I want to kiss you. Fuck, I wish I could see you. Wish I could taste you.”

My hand follows his demand, running across my center before dipping inside. I fear to talk, of ending the spell, of every freaking thing involving Liam.

“Tell me what you were thinking about before, what gets Little Miss Perfect off.”

I swallow back my fear. “You.” One word, heavy with meaning and implication, of consequences and obstacles I can’t prepare myself for. The phone feels like a barrier, safely hiding me from facing my feelings head-on. Of facing him head-on.

He grunts into the phone. “Push two fingers inside of you. Feel how fucking wet you are for me. Because shit, I’m hard from the thought of you pleasuring yourself to the sound of my voice.”

My body buzzes at his order. “I was thinking of you in your room, a bead of pre-cum dripping from your tip as you fist your dick, the idea of me on replay in your head as you come.” Where my brazenness comes from, I have no freaking clue. I guess phone sex makes me courageous.

“You’re on a fucking loop in my head. The same shit replays because I can’t get you out no matter how hard I try, no matter how many times you call me a friend. I want to fuck friendship out of you, erasing the word from your memory. I think of you begging me to fuck you, with my cock filling you up and making you feel so damn good. You’ll scream my name and scratch at my back. I’ll make it my mission to have you chanting my name like a goddamn prayer while I explode inside of you.”

A tingle starts in my toes and carries up my spine, nerves firing off as I pump two fingers into myself, curling enough to stroke my G-spot. Liam’s words rush through my brain and obliterate any doubt. He paints a picture of us that feeds my desire, his dick pumping into me as he pulls my orgasm from me.

“I always want you like a needy asshole. I’m in so fucking deep that you don’t even need to say anything to turn me on. Your heavy breathing tells me enough, the idea of you finger-fucking yourself to me making my balls clench and my dick ache. I want in. I want you to drop your defenses and let me take over. Allow me to show you how good it can be with us.” He half snarls the last sentence.

“Yes.” I moan as my orgasm hits me, my thumb pressing against my clit as my fingers continue to tease me.

“I’m right there with you.” Liam’s groan rumbles through the speakerphone.

We both come, my chest heaving as Liam moans into the phone. Neither one of us says anything as we gather ourselves.

Uncertainty creeps in the dark and replaces my orgasm-induced high. Realization dawns on me that I came to the sound of Liam’s naughty words and of him jacking off.

Oh God. What did I do?

“Stop doubting everything,” he growls into the phone.

“I have to go. Look at the time!”

“Don’t—”

I click the red button. It’s fitting how the red circle reminds me of a self-destruct button because that’s what the fuck I did to my perfectly laid plan.


Maya officially made it on my shit list. Well, at least temporarily because I tend to be emotionally weak when it comes to her.

We lie down on my hotel bed, watching TV while catching up on all the gossip.

She looks at me with innocent eyes and a sweet smile despite her plans on abandoning me. And damn her for looking good while she lets me down, telling me she can’t come to Canada.

Noah ruins everything with his smolders and sexy nothings because let’s be real, there is nothing sweet about that man. I would know since he comes around every Christmas because my dad has a thing for people with shitty parents.

Yesterday, Noah kissed Maya. I can’t allow these things to happen anymore, especially since she refuses to fly to North America for the Canadian Grand Prix.

“You have to come. Think of the maple syrup. The Canadian boys. Niagara Falls.” I smack the back of my hand into my other palm for emphasis.

She lets out a laugh. “Niagara Falls is hours away. We would never make it via car.”

“Are you really not coming because of Noah? I think my dad has an extra chastity belt I can lend you. I wouldn’t put it past him to have packed one in his carry-on luggage.”

“I’m sorry. I really wish I could.”

“Don’t lie. It’s unbecoming of you.” I still love her.

“Your word choice is something else.” She chuckles. “Sometimes, I wonder if you’re some posh princess hiding out in F1.”

“Please, if I was married to Prince Harry, I wouldn’t be hanging out on this bed with you. I’d be popping out little ginger babies that rival the queen.”

Her laugh fills the hotel room. “Truly, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Fine. I forgive you. But you’re coming to the next race. Think of your vlog and the fans. You can’t leave them hanging like that.”

She shakes her head against the crisp sheets. “You’ll have Liam. Don’t act like that’s not enough.”

“It’s more than I can handle,” I groan while avoiding her eyes.

“If my friends looked at me like he looks at you, I think I would have ditched the friend zone a long time ago. Take me to the end zone. Multiple times, por favor.”

Technically, his voice scored me a touchdown yesterday. But I remain quiet.

“I keep warning you about him. He’s nice and sexy, which is a deadly combo. Liam’s got this little twinkle in his eye that matches yours when you get a plan going.”

I roll over and bury my face into the comforter, unable to escape from her wisdom.

“With someone like Liam…one day you wake up wondering how everything changed between you two. Mark my words.”

“Seeing as Liam has an aversion for serious relationships, I highly doubt I’m some type of anecdote.”

She hops out of bed, not content with my words. “I call bullshit. Plus you’ve been acting weird all day, ignoring his texts to hang out. Mind you, he messaged me an hour ago asking where you are. What gives?”

“I did something I probably shouldn’t have.” I sit and pull at a loose thread on my shirt.

“Like?”

“Like phone sex with Liam.” I take a peek at her.

She gasps. “No way!”

I cringe. “Yes, and I don’t know how to face him, let alone talk about it. I want to act like it never happened.”

“Why?”

My eyebrows rise. “What do you mean why? Haven’t you listened to me over the past month?”

“Sure, I have. I’ve heard you say nothing but nice things about him. You can’t say one complaint except for his bad history, which he can’t change if he tried. All he can do is work toward a better future. But you’re stubborn about staying friends, but clearly coming to the sound of his voice is anything but platonic.”

Her level of insight unnerves me.

I hide my face in my hands. “He admitted he jacks off while thinking about me.”

She lets out a laugh. “Okay, and?”

And? Why are you acting so casual about all of this!”

She throws her hands out to the side. “Because you keep coming up with every reason not to, while all I hear are reasons to go for it. You both are friends who have the hots for one another. So what?”

“Says the girl running away from her problems,” I mutter.

Maya frowns, making me instantly feel shitty for what I said. “I may be hiding, but Noah and I aren’t friends like you and Liam. Let’s say you hook up with him. Do you really think he’ll dump you and never speak to you again? You have a foundation there that won’t crumble.”

“But what if I end up liking him for more?”

She lifts a brow. “What if he ends up liking you for more?”

Well, when she puts it like that.

“I hope you know this sounds like a terrible idea.”

She offers me a sly grin. “You know what they say? Fuck it.”


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