I was dating a man five years my junior. We’d been together for two years. Liam was proud and prone to drama, picking fights with me every few days over something or other. And because of that devastatingly beautiful face of his, I was always the first to back down, to soothe him, to indulge him. The ninth time Liam told me he wanted to break up, I agreed. That was when he panicked, his wolf-cub eyes turning a desperate, bloodshot red. "Audrey, no," he’d pleaded. "I’ll be your stand-in… I don’t care. Just… soothe me again. Please." 1 The night was a boundless stretch of black, pricked with only a few scattered stars. I lifted my head from my computer screen. Eleven o'clock. Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I shut down my laptop and prepared to head home. I had just started the car when my phone rang. It was Liam. I raised an eyebrow; I hadn't expected him to be the one to break our current cold war. But when I answered, the voice on the other end wasn't his. It was a man's voice, vaguely familiar. "Is this Audrey?" It took me a second to place it. One of Liam’s bandmates. "This is she. What's wrong with Liam?" "Liam's wasted," the voice said, rushed. "He keeps yelling your name, but he won't leave with us. Is there any chance you could come get him?" "...I know where you are. Give me ten minutes." My office was thankfully close to the bar where his band had a regular gig. By the time I pulled up, the clock read 11:30. I blinked my tired eyes, my only thought to get Liam home as quickly as possible so I could finally fall into bed. I never expected to push open the door to their private rehearsal room and see the supposedly "wasted" man leaning intimately toward a girl. His bandmate spotted me first and gave a nervous cough. Liam froze, then slowly turned to look at me. The girl he’d been cornering scrambled away from him, rushing over to me with a look of pure exasperation. "Audrey, I swear, Liam is having a psychotic episode," she said, her voice a frantic whisper. "He just lunged at me. There is nothing going on between us!" She leaned in closer. "You can hate him right now, but you can't hate me." It was Zoey, the drummer for Liam's band. We’d met a dozen times, and I’d always liked her. "I know," I said, a small, tired smile touching my lips. I patted her shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry." I knew this was a performance, staged entirely for my benefit. He was still angry that I’d accepted a project at work that involved a partnership with my ex-boyfriend, ignoring his furious protests. But it was a corporate directive, a major opportunity. If this project succeeded, it would mean a significant promotion and a huge boost to my resume. I couldn't sacrifice my future over the ghost of a long-dead relationship. 2 Liam shot a single, cold glance in my direction before slumping back onto the sofa and pointedly taking another swig of his beer. My brow furrowed. I walked over and snatched the bottle from his hand. "We're going home." He let me take the beer without a fight, but his tone was laced with venom. "Who are you to tell me what to do?" A wave of exhaustion washed over me. "You don't want me here?" "..." "You'd rather get home by yourself?" "..." He turned his head away, refusing to look at me, refusing to speak. I gave in. "Fine. Then I'm leaving." I turned on my heel and walked decisively toward the door. I’d just reached the threshold when the sound of shattering glass exploded behind me. I spun around. Liam’s foot was still resting on the coffee table where a row of empty bottles had been lined up. His eyes, rimmed with red, were locked on me. He looked like a wounded wolf cub, brimming with a hurt he was too proud to ever voice. My heart, as always, softened. I walked back to him, took his hand, and softened my voice. "Come home with me?" It took a long moment before he gave a stiff, reluctant, "Mm." Only then did I turn to his wide-eyed, shell-shocked bandmates. "I drove. Do you guys need a ride back to campus?" "No! No, we're good! We'll grab an Uber!" Zoey said, and the others quickly chimed in with agreement. "Alright. We're heading out, then." I nodded and left, Liam letting me lead him by the hand, his tantrum seemingly subdued for now. 3 "Mmph…" The moment the apartment door clicked shut behind us, Liam, who had been silent the entire ride home, suddenly spun me around, lifting me onto the console table in the entryway. Before I could even process it, his lips were on mine. I have to admit, the speed of a man's progress in this particular area is astonishing. He’d gone from clumsy, innocent first kisses to this—a practiced, predatory confidence. He kissed me until my legs went weak, my body feeling like it was melting. The heavy scent of alcohol on his breath made my head spin. It wasn't until his warm hand slid from my waist toward the hem of my skirt that I snapped out of the daze and stopped him. "Go take a shower." Liam froze, his eyes dark with a barely concealed desire. He bit my lower lip, a small act of petulant protest. After a few ragged breaths against my ear, he relented and trudged obediently to the bathroom. By the time Liam emerged, wrapped in a cloud of steam, I was lying in bed, already half-asleep. I squinted at him, and my breath hitched. As if deliberately trying to seduce me, he had come out with only a towel slung low on his hips. Droplets of water still clung to his skin, tracing paths down the well-defined planes of his abs before disappearing into the V of his torso. Liam seemed oblivious, leaning over me with his dark, damp hair falling into his eyes. He whispered my name, his voice soft and low. "Audrey…" I fought to suppress the direction my thoughts were heading and reached for the hairdryer on the nightstand. He sat on the edge of the bed, and I began to dry his hair, running my fingers through the wet strands until they were soft and fluffy. I set the hairdryer down. "All done." But Liam didn't move. He just stared at me, his eyes shimmering, the corners of his mouth turning down in the prelude to a pout. "Audrey, my head is killing me." "And whose fault is it that you drank so much?" "..." He didn't argue, just wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his face against my stomach and letting out a few pathetic whimpers. "It hurts." I had never been able to resist him. I sighed, my hands going to his temples, gently massaging them in slow circles. After a while, I asked, "Is that helping?" "Mm-hmm." We stayed like that in silence. I don't know how much time passed, but my hands started to ache. The moment I stopped, Liam nuzzled his fluffy head into the crook of my neck, his hands beginning to roam again. "Liam—" I tried to stop him, but the man in my arms was already deploying his ultimate weapon: a wounded, pleading tone. "Audrey, it's been three days. You haven't sent me a single text." His voice was a mumble against my skin. "I've missed you so much." I was exhausted from a long week at work and had no intention of giving in, but I was already losing the battle against temptation. As he spoke, he began nibbling on my earlobe, his fingers tracing lazy circles on the small of my back. "Audrey…" I sighed, defeated. "Just once." I don't remember if he agreed. I don't remember who turned off the lights. All I remember is a room filled with the rise and fall of bodies, lost in the dark. 4 The next morning, the room was flooded with bright sunlight. I clutched my aching lower back and glared at the utterly satisfied expression on Liam’s sleeping face. I couldn't resist giving him a light kick. Liam didn't even open his eyes. He just grunted, pulled me closer, and wrapped his arms around me. His voice was a sleepy, morning-after rasp. "Audrey, let's sleep a little longer." "Didn't we agree on 'just once'?" Perhaps sensing the edge in my voice, Liam’s eyes fluttered open. He knew perfectly well I had to work today. He gave me a look that was pure, drowsy charm, fully aware that he had pushed things too far last night. He started nuzzling my hand like a cat seeking forgiveness. "I just love you so much." My anger, which hadn't been that serious to begin with, completely evaporated. I disentangled myself from his embrace, refusing to get drawn into another lazy morning in bed, and hurried to get ready. When I came out of the bathroom, I saw that the man who had been feigning sleep was already busy in the kitchen. He'd only pulled on a pair of sweatpants. I leaned against the doorframe, watching the smooth, powerful lines of the muscles in his back as he moved. Even after seeing him bare countless times, I still felt my mouth go dry. God, there was just something about a man in his early twenties. I took the breakfast he’d prepared for me, ready to rush out the door. But out of the corner of my eye, I saw the droop of his shoulders, the slight downturn of his lips. Damn it. I forgot the goodbye kiss. I quickly leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You be good, okay? The project will be over this week. No more being angry, alright?" "Okay." A smile spread across Liam's face, his eyes lighting up. He cupped the back of my head, deepening the kiss. I felt something begin to stir against my leg and, blushing, quickly pushed him away and fled the scene. As I left, I tossed a final word over my shoulder. "Pervert!" I could hear Liam's delighted laughter behind me. "Only for you, Audrey!" 5 Five days later, the project was a success. It was a win-win for both companies, and a joint celebration dinner was planned. As the lead representatives from our respective firms, my attendance—and Mark's—was mandatory. I gave Liam a heads-up beforehand. An hour of schmoozing and clinking glasses passed. I finally found my seat at the table and took a moment to check my phone. In that short time, a flood of messages had come in from Liam. Don't you dare talk to him! Don't even look at him! When is it over? Can I come pick you up? I miss you, Audrey~ A smile bloomed on my face as I read them, and I quickly typed out my replies. You can come get me now. I haven't talked to him. Haven't even looked at him. I miss you too. Just as I sent the last message, a low male voice murmured beside me. "Is your phone really that interesting?" I turned. At some point, the colleague sitting next to me had been replaced by Mark. He was leaning his head slightly, trying to peer at my screen. I had a privacy screen protector, so he probably couldn't see anything, hence the question. When we were working together, I could maintain a professional distance. Now that the project was over, I had no desire to interact with him at all. Luckily, my junior colleague, a sweet girl named Holly, jumped in. "Oh, you don't know, Mr. Davis? Audrey's been dating a guy five years younger than her for two years now! They're still totally in their honeymoon phase!" Mark's face immediately darkened. But Holly, young and oblivious to social cues, continued to gush about her "ship," sharing all the cute couple moments she'd witnessed. I have zero interest in sharing the sweet details of my current relationship with my ex. I glanced at the time and stood up. "I'm going to head out. You all have a good night." Holly's voice grew even more excited. "Going to see your boyfriend?" I smiled and nodded. "Yep. The kid at home gets a little clingy." 6 I was waiting by the hotel entrance, leaning against a pillar and scrolling through my phone, when I saw that Liam hadn't arrived yet. Suddenly, a hand clamped around my wrist, yanking me violently to the side. I was wearing heels and nearly twisted my ankle. Once I regained my balance, I followed the arm up to its owner and found myself staring at Mark. The annoyance I was feeling curdled into disgust. "Mark, what the hell is wrong with you?" I tried to wrench my hand free, but his grip only tightened. "Let go!" He ignored me, his brow furrowed in a tight knot. "You have a boyfriend? Since when?" His tone—as if he'd just caught me cheating on him—was so absurd I almost laughed. Is this guy for real? "Mark, let me remind you, since your memory seems to be failing: we broke up three years ago. Why on earth would I need to inform you that I have a boyfriend?" I stared at him, incredulous. "You can't possibly be so arrogant that you thought we were just on a three-year break, did you?" Mark stared back, a look of dawning, painful confusion on his face. Oh my god. He actually did. I suddenly wondered just how pathetic and clingy he must have thought I was all this time. I really wasn't, was I? Just then, a group of young people walked out of the hotel. I seized the opportunity and raised my voice. "Mark, I already have a boyfriend. Are you sure you want to keep holding my hand like this in public?" Mark is obsessed with his public image. Noticing the curious glances from the group, he immediately dropped my hand. I took two quick steps away from him, my voice ice-cold. "Stay away from me. I don't want my boyfriend to see this and get the wrong idea." Speak of the devil. A black Range Rover pulled up right in front of me. The window rolled down, revealing Liam, sunglasses on, looking straight at me. Just the sight of my boy's beautiful face was enough to dissipate the foul mood Mark had put me in. Ignoring the man-shaped statue of melodrama standing beside me, I walked straight to the car and got into the passenger seat.
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