6. Matthew

Liamand I are quiet as we walk back up the sandy path to the villa.

I'm okay with silence between us. It covers up the mild internal meltdown I'm having.

Because there was something almost…fun about being with Liam when he got to explore a coral reef for the first time.

Liam's always had this impenetrable cool-guy persona he projects to the world. I saw it constantly when we were growing up, the cocky mask of the popular jock.

But for the first time today, I got a glimpse of what lies beneath.

I saw his initial fear that he tried to cover with snarky comments, which morphed into unbridled enthusiasm once he got comfortable.

And I'm refusing to think about that moment on the boat when I'm fairly confident there'd been a pulse of attraction between us.

"We should probably start getting ready for dinner. You can shower first," I say stiffly once we're inside the villa.

Liam nods and goes to his duffel bag to pick out his clothes for the night. I watch him as he rummages through his bag, momentarily caught up in the way his muscles move under his skin.

Then he disappears into the bathroom, and I wrestle my thoughts under control.

When it's my turn to shower, it's difficult not to think about the way his gaze lingered on me, how my skin ignited when he brushed against me.

I recite the elements of the periodic table to calm my thoughts.

And that helps, if only because it reminds me of the time in chemistry when Liam used the periodic table puzzle we were doing to insult me. He selected Lithium, Americium, Ruthenium, Xenon, Meitnerium, Sulfur, Uranium, Carbon, and Potassium to spell out LiAm RuXe, Mt SUCK, which hadn't been completely grammatically correct but definitely communicated the message he wanted.

But even as I settle my body, I can't help noticing that the shower still smells faintly like the citrus body wash Liam uses, the scent that lingers on his skin.

I come out of the shower with my pants on, then reach for a shirt in the closet.

"Don't wear the brown shirt, wear the blue. It will bring out your eyes." Liam's voice is closer than I expected.

I pause, then slowly swivel to face him. He's just finishing applying hair gel in the mirror on the other closet door, and his reflection meets my gaze.

My face must reflect my astonishment because he continues. "There's a certain standard you have to reach to be my boyfriend,"

I let out a shaky breath before I manage to reply, "I was there in high school, remember? I'm pretty sure your only standard for your boyfriends or girlfriends was upright and breathing."

But nevertheless, I reach for the blue shirt, trying not to notice how his eyes linger on the exposed bits of my chest as I fasten the buttons on my shirt.

When I've finished, he leans forward to brush a piece of fluff off my shoulder.

My breath hitches when he touches me.

What the hell is going on with me?

Is this Stockholm syndrome, when you end up sympathizing with your captors? Although, given I'm paying him to be here, I can't really claim that one.

His hazel eyes meet mine, and I swear there's the same energy between us that was there on the boat. His pupils dilate slightly before he steps backward.

"Now you're up to scratch," he says.

My retort generator has a momentary malfunction, and for the first time ever, I can't come up with a snappy reply to Liam.

It's like I'm forgetting to completely hate him.

Which isn't what I need right now.

This is Liam, I remind myself as we walk down the path to the restaurant. Liam, the guy who I used to believe was put on this earth for the sole purpose of tormenting me.

I keep reminding myself of that fact during dinner when Liam continues to cast a spell over my colleagues and their partners, sharing funny and insightful comments about snorkeling.

He lightly places his arm across my back, and when a guy at a table next to us does a double-take, Liam calmly wraps his arm tighter around me.

My skin tingles under my shirt at the warmth of his fingers.

Liam has always claimed his sexuality loudly and proudly, which I can't deny helped me. Having the most popular guy at school openly embrace his pansexual identity definitely helped other kids who were struggling with their sexuality.

"So, Liam, you're a personal trainer?" Henrietta asks as we eat dessert.

"Yes. For the moment, anyway. I'm actually looking to open my own gym," he says.

My eyebrows fly up in surprise before I can control myself.

I can see Paul clocks my reaction.

Shit. That is definitely something I should've known about my boyfriend.

His eyes shoot between Liam and me, then his gaze narrows suspiciously.

"I'm sure Matthew will have given you some good advice about running a business," he says.

Something changes in Liam's face. He withdraws his arm from me, and I immediately notice its absence.

"Matthew's always incredibly supportive," he says.

He's trying for the tone of a smooth boyfriend, but there's definitely something off in his voice. He picks up his beer and takes a large gulp.

A flash of shame shoots through me because supportive is definitely not the word to use to describe my interactions with Liam growing up. I spent so many years trying to sabotage him at every opportunity.

But then he'd done the same to me.

I run my hands through my hair, looking away from him as memories flood my mind.

Liam messing with my bike seat so I fell off my bike in front of the whole class when we were doing a bikeathon. Me retaliating by faking a letter pretending Liam got a scholarship to a football summer camp.

Shit. We'd been such horrible people to each other for so long. When I'd been caught up in it, I hadn't reflected on the morals of devoting so much of my time and energy in such a negative way.

After dinner, couples drift off to the open-air dancefloor. In keeping with the time of the year, it"s lit by sparkling fairy lights. A dreadlocked guy strums away on his guitar while crooning some soft rock into the microphone.

Liam looks at me. "Do you want to dance?"

Aware Paul's eyes are still lingering on us, I answer with a shrug. "Why not?"

The reasons why not become very apparent to me when we find a space on the edge of the dancefloor.

Because dancing means voluntarily getting close to Liam.

The other couples around us are melting into each other, and I'm aware I'm holding Liam like you'd hold a particularly rabid porcupine.

Liam appears equally aware of this. He whispers in a low voice in my ear. "You need to loosen up."

"In what way?"

"Act like you like me, at least."

Liam's looking at me with a challenge in his eyes, which immediately makes me draw closer to him. I can do this. I can be just as good of a fake boyfriend as Liam.

His arms pull me tighter as I lean in, feeling slightly light-headed at the scent of his aftershave.

Liam's bigger than me, and he feels warm at every point we touch. His breath is in my ear, slightly ragged.

Is having me close affecting him? The thought increases my headiness. I deliberately align our hips and slowly grind my pelvis into his.

Take that.

But Liam doesn't move away. Instead, he stays pressed up against me.

It's a dangerous, dangerous game we're playing, judging by the firming in Liam's groin. My own cock grows hard in response, turned on by his scent and proximity.

Liam moves even farther into my space to whisper to me. "Paul is watching us. Are you okay with me pretending to kiss you?"

"Pretend kiss? How do you pretend kiss?" I whisper back.

"Just my lips resting on yours."

"That sounds like an actual kiss."

His low voice murmurs in my ear. "Oh, sweet pea, if that's the kind of kissing you've been doing, then you've been missing out."

I pull back to give him the full force of my glare.

He quirks his eyebrow expectantly.

"Okay," I say.

And now a phenomenon I never, ever imagined would occur happens.

Liam's lips are on mine. His kiss is gentle, just a soft press of lips like he promised. But there's something about the feeling that sends my pulse spiking.

I apply some pressure back because, despite everything, I can't be a passive recipient of a kiss from Liam.

His lips tilt up in a smile under mine and his kiss changes from light to firm.

It looks like this is just another battlefield for us to fight on.

And I'm prepared to fight dirty.

I gently lick the seam of his lips.

Liam's mouth opens under mine, and suddenly, his tongue is invading my mouth, his hands moving up to my hair, and he's pulling me even closer.

I kiss him back with the same ferociousness, both of us not giving an inch, our tongues tangling as we battle for dominance.

His stubble rubs against my cheek as he angles for better access to my mouth. He tastes like something forbidden, sweet, spicy, and just beyond reach.

Lust ignites in me so fast I'm dizzy with it. My cock is rock hard and throbbing, and my hips move of their own accord, grinding against his cock.

This is, hands down, the hottest kiss of my life.

Liam groans softly into my mouth, a lust-filled sound that brings me back to my senses.

This is not an appropriate kiss for the dancefloor surrounded by my colleagues.

That's the only reason I wrench my mouth from his.

Liam's panting, staring at me with wide eyes.

I stagger back, completely dumbstruck.

What the hell? What the hell just happened?

"Uh…I'm going to head back to the villa," I blurt, then take two steps back, continuing to face him like I'm retreating from a wild animal before turning and bolting down the sandy path.

My cock is still throbbing.

What the absolute hell?

I reach the villa, but the tranquility of the decor in the room fails to soothe me. Shit. Memories assault me. Liam pressed up against me, Liam's tongue in my mouth. I can still taste him, sweet and spicy.

The door opens. Liam is standing there, looking as flustered and disheveled as I feel.

He doesn't say anything.

For a few heartbeats, we just stare at each other.

Then he's crossing the room, pushing me up against the wall, claiming my mouth like he's trying to superglue our lips together.

I'm kissing him back with the same ferocity. Like there's no powerful enough force in this world to stop me from touching him. My hands are on the side of his face, then slipping around to the back of his hair, grasping him to keep him in place.

He's everywhere, all firm determination and heat, his hands sliding down my body.

He palms my cock through my shorts, and I whimper.

Then I'm reaching out, tugging at the buttons of his shirt so hard that one snaps off.

But I don't pay any attention because I've got my hands on Liam's incredible body, all the hard planes of muscles and smooth, hot skin.

Shit. The lust inside me is a desperate, growling beast.

I rip at the buckle on his belt, fumbling my way through getting it undone, and he steps out of his pants. I don't wait for him to pull down his boxers because I'm doing it, tugging them at the same time I'm slipping my hand inside the material because, apparently, microseconds matter in this, and I'm going to combust if I don't touch Liam.

And now I'm touching Liam Jamieson's cock.

Of all the places in the world I thought my hand would end up, I never suspected this destination.

But feeling Liam's hard erection thrusting against my hand causes my brain to go into a meltdown.

I fumble to get my own pants and boxers down with one hand while I continue to kiss him frantically, desperately, not caring about the mash of tongues and teeth and lips. He matches my intensity like kissing is a weapon we're both determined to master.

And his hand is on my cock now and oh my god, it feels incredible.

There's nothing gentle or restrained about the way we're touching each other.

I'm working him over hard, jerking his cock with urgent motions, and he's doing the same to me.

This is another contest between us, who can get the other off the fastest. And I'm not going to lie, having Liam's warm, hard cock in my hand and his tongue in my mouth is pushing me toward the edge faster than I'd like. Somehow his cock feels exactly the right size and weight in my hand, like it was designed to fit there perfectly.

Suddenly his head wrenches away from my mouth to rest on my shoulder and his cock pulses. I feel a brief moment of victory before the most intense orgasm of my life rips through me. My knees go weak, leaving me sagging against Liam.

Our breathing is ragged, tattered.

My brain relocates back into my head.

Oh, holy shit.

Liam and I are both still clutching each other.

It's like neither of us wants to move, like if we remain frozen, we don't have to acknowledge that we've just slid into this alternative dimension where we just got each other off.

Because this has to be an alternative version of reality, right? One of those parallel universes that operate side by side with our universe but by a completely different set of rules.

Finally, I manage to make my legs support my whole weight and withdraw from him, taking as dignified steps back as possible, given I'm sticky and my pants and boxers are still around my knees.

I force myself to raise my gaze to meet Liam's eyes.

He's staring at me like he's just watched a horror movie marathon. I suspect I have a similar expression.

What the hell just happened?

"Um…okay." I swallow. "I'm just going to have a quick shower, and then I think we should call it a night, okay?"

Liam still has an astonished look on his face. Like the potted plants have just started reciting Shakespeare.

"Okay," he agrees finally.