Chapter 32

" W hat if—and this is just a suggestion—you didn't keep stealing my socks?"

"Ruff." Bray tilted his tiny little head like he had no idea what Liam was talking about. In his defense, he probably didn't, considering he was a puppy and didn't speak English.

"Good chat, buddy. Our son is a tyrant," he told Jasmine, who was perched on the edge of the couch, fidgeting with a lavender scrunchie. Bray stood on his back legs and waved until Liam picked him up. "You're cute, though," he muttered to the dog, who just wagged his tail, happy to be there.

Jasmine said nothing, and Liam wasn't sure if she'd even heard him. She just stared at the scrunchie, passing it between her hands, purple smudges below her hazel eyes .

She hadn't spoken about the night before since they'd left his dad and Maggie's house. Jasmine had been ready to run out of there the second he'd come downstairs, even though he was hoping Maggie would come down and the two of them would talk.

When ten a.m. passed, it had become abundantly clear that Maggie wasn't coming down. She rarely stayed in bed past eight, and her missing presence had been deafening. He and his dad did their best to act like everything was normal, but Jasmine had sat in an armchair, staring into space until he'd given up on any kind of conversation between her and Maggie and driven home. To his place, because, although he was giving her the space to process as she needed, he wasn't willing to let her out of his sight.

"Are you alright, darling?" he asked, and she looked up, blinking, as if she'd forgotten he was there. She offered a jerky and unnatural nod. "You sure?"

Jasmine drew her lip between her teeth. "We need to talk, Liam."

Liam's stomach dropped. He could see it in the resignation in her eyes, in her lips, bitten raw. In the way her body kept slipping forward until she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold herself up. Even in the spot she'd chosen on the couch, as far away from him as she possibly could. She didn't have to say anymore for him to know where she was going with this.

"No," he said, simply, firmly, not letting his panic show on his face .

Confusion contorted Jasmine's features. "No we can't talk?"

"No we're not breaking up."

It was a risk. He couldn't actually do anything if she really wanted to end things between them, but he was confident that she didn't. He hoped, anyway.

Jasmine's nostrils flared, her eyes blazing, and Liam could have cried with relief. It was a sign of life. It was something.

"What are you talking about? We're not actually in a relationship—how could we break up?" Jasmine asked, her voice stronger, steadier.

And just like that, the time for taking it slow was over. "Of course we're in a relationship. What else would you call this?"

"We're casually seeing each other!" Jasmine spluttered.

Liam exchanged a weighted look with Bray before looking back at her. "And what's the casual part, exactly? The way we spend all our free time together? The dates we've been going on every few days? Or maybe the way we're co-parenting a dog together?" Bray barked. "That's a great point, buddy. Maybe it is the way you're literally all I think about—and have been for months, years even. Or the way you told me you loved me that one time?—"

"I was sick and it was an accident!" Jasmine stood up, her brows drawn together. He knew her well enough by now to know that she was pissed; he just had to hope it was because he'd derailed her, and not how he'd derailed her. And pissed was better than broken; flames had replaced the emptiness in her hazel eyes.

"No take backs, I'm afraid."

"Liam." Jasmine raked a hand through her hair, gaping at him. "You can't just decide we're in a relationship. You're supposed to ask me if I want to be in a relationship."

"Okay." He set Bray down on the couch and stood so he was facing her. "Do you want to be in a relationship?"

"Oh my God. I'm trying to end things here."

"Right, and like I said: no. That doesn't work for me."

"Jesus Christ, I've stepped into a parallel universe." She spun around and stomped all the way to the bedroom.

Liam winced and looked at Bray. "Too much? Never mind, you're a dog. Fuck. What am I doing?"

He trailed after Jasmine and paused in the doorway. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands, but she looked up as he shuffled closer and her eyes were blurry with tears.

"Darling…"

"This wasn't supposed to happen like this. You were supposed to just let me walk away. It was supposed to be easier this way."

He sat down beside her, and though his fingers itched to reach for her, he resisted. "Easier for who?"

"For you. Because you're too nice to actually end things with me when you realize what a fucking mess I am, and I'd rather break my own heart than ask you to do it when I know what that would do to you."

Oh . "Jasmine, let me make one thing very clear: I know how much of a mess you are, and I'm going nowhere. Not now, not tomorrow, not six months from now."

"But eventually?—"

"No. Never. I'm not going anywhere. And you don't get to burn this thing we've built to the ground because you made a mistake and you're scared. This is just fight-or-flight mode, and we're going to fight through it."

Jasmine huffed out a breath, standing up and taking several steps back is if she needed to put some space between them or her resolve would crumble. But Liam didn't want her resolve to crumble; he wanted her to fight; he wanted her to shout and scream, throw shit around. Anything was better than her being broken down, feeling like she had no option but to leave. If that took antagonizing the shit out of her for now… Luckily for Liam, he'd learned from the best: her.

So he stood up too and stepped forward. Jasmine glared at his feet like she couldn't quite believe he had the gall.

"Why do you get to decide we're fighting? First you decide that I'm your girlfriend without asking me and now you get to decide that I'm not allowed to end things?"

Liam raised a brow. "I don't recall using the word girlfriend…"

"For fuck's sake."

"But hey, if the shoe fits, girlfriend ." It really wasn't the time, but Jesus, that felt good. "And I get to decide we're fighting because right now, I'm the only one of us who cares about your wellbeing. You want to take some time, consider everything fully, and then break up with me?" He narrowed his eyes. "Honestly, I'd still probably say no, but I'd be more inclined to listen."

Jasmine stepped closer. "You are fucking infuriating," she said, punctuating each word with a prod to his chest.

Liam cupped her chin, tilted her head up so she was facing him, and winked. "Maybe, but no take backs, remember?"

Jasmine growled, pushed him back on the bed with her finger, and tackled him. Liam grunted as he fell back on the bed, the mattress bouncing beneath his body. He barely had time to blink before Jasmine's lips were on his, fierce and unrelenting. Her thighs pinned him to the bed, squeezing his legs and setting him alight as she rolled her hips, brushing against his cock. She wasn't wearing pants, just one of his old sweatshirts, underwear, and mismatched fuzzy socks.

He ran his hands up the back of her sweatshirt— his sweatshirt—and she cursed into his mouth as his cool fingers connected with her blazing skin. She tore at his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it on the bed, before sitting up on her knees. She pushed his sweatpants down just enough to free his cock, wrapping her fist around him and drinking down the whimper that fell from Liam's lips. Jasmine didn't bother to undress, she just pulled her underwear to the side and sank down on his cock until he was deep inside her. She gasped, squeezing his cock with her pussy, and Liam grabbed her hips, fighting the urge to take control .

He could let her run this show, if that's what she needed, despite how badly he wanted to fuck her. Jasmine fisted his t-shirt, moving slowly over his cock. Her fingers were bone white where she gripped the fabric, her body tense, as if she couldn't quite decide whether to keep fighting or fuck him.

"Are you mad at me?" he murmured, brushing his nose over the edge of her jaw.

"Yes. No. Fuck, maybe. I don't know. I'm mad, I just don't know if it's at you or me or everything." She pressed her forehead against his chest, her voice dripping with frustration.

"You want to work it all out on me? Use me. I can take it. I'm not going anywhere."

Like she'd been waiting for permission, a flip switched in Jasmine. She growled, gripping his shoulders hard enough to leave bruises in her wake and caught his bottom lip between her teeth as she fucked him, riding him hard and ruthless. She slammed down on his cock, over and over again, and Liam's lungs strained as he held his breath, trying not to come in a single fucking second.

Liam cupped her breasts, toying with the gold bars in her nipples

"Harder," she gasped, and he obliged, bending his head so he could capture her nipple in his mouth. He tugged it with his teeth, pinching the other, and Jasmine threw her head back, her nails digging into his shoulders.

She cried out his name, her voice cracking on the second syllable, and Liam looked up, drawing his eye along the line of her body. Flushed splotches of red dotted her skin, her hair was in knots, and the sight of her knocked the wind out of him. The pressure in him reached a boiling point, and he cursed, balling his hands into fist and slamming them on the mattress.

Jasmine's movements didn't slow, but she looked down at him with a hazy smile that bordered on a smirk. She released his shoulder and ran two fingers over his mustache before pushing them into his mouth. He closed his lips, moaning around her fingers.

"Do you want me to let you come? Boyfriend ," she added in a semi-mocking tone, but Liam didn't miss the way her eyes lit up when the word passed her lips.

Jesus.

He nodded, unable to speak with her fingers in his mouth. But he was sure his eyes were begging her to have mercy on him.

"Make me come, and come with me," she groaned, and Liam realized she was holding off as much as he was. She was fucking close, her pussy clenching around him. All it took was a light brush of his finger over her clit and she let go, tumbling down into the depths of pleasure and dragging him along with her. Liam held onto her for dear life as he came, pretty sure he was biting down on her fingers but not totally conscious of his actions. Jasmine sobbed his name, her hips slowing as her own orgasm faded.

She pulled her fingers out of his mouth and dipped her hand between her legs, dragging her fingers over the spot they were joined, where his cum spilled out of her. Licking her lips, she brought her fingers to her mouth and groaned.

"You look good coming for me," she quipped, and Liam chuckled, leaning his forehead over her chest, feeling her heart race.

"It's always for you, Jasmine. Every single time."

He felt her swallow, and she sat back, both of them gasping when he slipped out of her. Liam grabbed a box of tissues from the nightstand and wiped his lap off. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough for him to climb into bed, beckoning Jasmine with him. She followed, tucking the covers up to her chin.

"I'm still mad at you," she said, but there was no bite to her words. She snuggled into him and sighed contentedly when he kissed her forehead.

"So mad that it's a no on us being in an actual relationship?" Liam asked, his tone more confident than he felt.

"Not that mad."

"I can take that. Girlfriend ."

"Shut up."

Liam laughed and turned out the lamp, plunging the bedroom into darkness. Jasmine turned around, and he looped his arms around her, spooning her.

"Liam?"

He said nothing, just waited until she cursed.

"For fuck's sake. Boyfriend ?" Jesus, he had no right getting hard again.

"Yes, darling?"

"I want to fall asleep with you inside me again," she said, sleepily, angling herself toward him. Liam's heart raced. He was still half-hard, but her words turned him on to a torturous degree. What the hell had she done to him? "But, just to reiterate," Jasmine continued, "I'm still pissed."

"So I've heard," he replied, rubbing his cock over her pussy and pressing into her, savoring her happy little whimper. "Goodnight, darling."