Sure Bet (Out of Left Field #1)

32. Brooke

Chapter 32

Brooke

T he silence in the car was deafening. The kind so loud that your ears pulse.

It’d been a difficult day for Liam, and I was a fool to have expected him to get over it with a catered meal and a room full of nerds.

The night started out so well. We were having fun, and he seemed okay, but then suddenly, he wasn’t. I had no clue what happened, but his discomfort was clear as day, with the tension in his jaw and the pinch around his eyes, the tight smile, and the fake laugh. He spent a summer working in customer service when we were seventeen. I recognized that fake laugh.

We trudged up to the third floor, and I stood at the door as Liam fumbled to unlock it.

“Did I do something wrong?” I whispered, catching the unsteady tremble in his fingers.

He popped the lock, but didn’t let us in. His forehead dropped to the doorframe, and he shook his head. “Why did you not tell me your ex-boyfriend is your male mirror image?”

I blinked, taken aback. He was upset about Sam?

“I guess I didn’t think about it.” I shrugged, resting my hand on his back. “You never asked for the details. I didn’t think that was relevant.”

He blew out a heavy exhale. “Right. I never asked.” After a few seconds of nodding, he opened the door and went inside.

I followed, but gave him space. He kicked off his shoes and pushed them to the side. He tossed his jacket over the back of the couch.

He didn’t use the closet.

“You have nothing to worry about, Liam. I’ve no interest in dating Sam, regardless of our history.” My heart pounded faster with every inch his shoulders dropped. Like he might collapse beneath whatever upset him.

I was there a moment later, erasing the distance between us, my hands on his cheeks. “Hey. This, us—it’s incredible. I’ve never felt like this, Liam. I didn’t think I could . Until you, I thought I was the kind of girl destined to settle because she was someone others settled for.”

He pulled back, extracting himself from my touch. “You had it backward, Brooke. Sam dumped you because he thought you were settling for him.”

“What?” I gripped his arm, refusing to allow him to leave. I wouldn’t let him run away.

Liam rolled his neck, cracking it. His hands jammed into his pockets, and he stared at the floor. “You misinterpreted what he said, heard what you thought based on how you viewed yourself. You were wrong. He told me outside of the pub. He didn’t want you to settle, and here I’ve been, asking you to.”

Tension radiated off him, palpable in the quiet living room. His posture slumped beneath the weight of his insecurities. And my heart ached for him, for the pain etched in the lines of his face, for the self-doubt that clouded his eyes.

I reached out, grazing his cheek and tracing the contours of his face. As if that fleeting caress could pour my love and reassurance into his thick, stubborn skull.

“That changes nothing for me, Liam.” The tick in his jaw made me wonder if it changed everything for him. “You are enough. More than enough.”

He licked his lips and nodded once. “Okay.”

“Hey.” I cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at me. My eyes flickered over his. That bright blue now dull and glassy, like he slipped away right in front of me.

Turmoil reflected, masked with a gentle touch when he gripped my forearms and pulled my hands from his face. “Okay.”

I tethered his hand to mine, thinking that would force him to stay with me, but everything in his posture indicated he had retreated inward: the uncertainty, the fear, the longing to be something greater than himself. The emptiness lingered beneath the surface, the hollow ache of a heart that had lost its way.

I guided him to my bedroom, wanting to take his hurt. My words failed, but maybe he would believe my body. Maybe I could show him how much I wanted him… love him.

I spun at the door, my gaze on his. “Let me make you feel good.”

I looped my finger into his belt and hauled him into the room. His hands slid into my hair and cupped the back of my head. His mouth crashed to mine, heated and with enough force to steal my breath. He walked me backward, kicking the door shut behind us.

His palms ran along my shoulders, sliding to the zipper of my dress and yanking when it stuck at the top. The sound of ripping fabric tore through the room, but I didn’t care, not when I had his touch. Not when he was with me, really fucking with me.

I worked open his belt, tugging at his slacks. He groaned when I unzipped his fly, his mouth breaking away to nip and lick at my neck. His teeth grazed over my flesh, and he frantically brushed my dress from my shoulders. It pooled at my feet, and I stepped out of it. He shoved me backward. I gripped him by the hips and pulled him with me.

The back of my knees met the bed, but my hands were in his slacks, pushing them down with his boxer briefs. Liam’s fingers worked the buttons open on his dress shirt, shrugging out of it as his pants hit the floor.

His hand dove between my thighs, cupping my pussy as he groaned and rubbed me. I bit his bottom lip, tugging it with my teeth and moaning when he pumped two fingers inside. I was desperate, wet, and needy for him. “Please,” I moaned.

He said nothing, his mouth on mine and his tongue licking with slow, sensual caresses. He pushed me onto the bed, towering over me when I bounced against the mattress. Stroking his cock in long, hard pulls, he remained silent as he stared down at me. My legs fell open, displaying my desire. He continued slowly jerking himself.

“Please,” I whispered. “Let me make you feel good.”

He raked his teeth over his bottom lip, releasing his erection. His knees landed on the bed, sinking into the mattress as he crawled up my body. His cock hung heavy between us, rubbing against my entrance. I whimpered and wiggled closer, but he didn’t push inside. He teased me with the crown, sliding it over my clit as I melted and mewled and begged to make him feel good.

He shadowed my body, his hand gripping behind my knee to anchor himself. His forehead pressed to mine, and he sank inside. A desperate moan pushed through my parted lips.

Our eyes locked as he thrust deep. “Do I make you feel good?”

“Yes,” I gasped, my nails digging into the tight skin of his biceps. My hips lifted, rolling to match his thrusts and take him.

“Yeah? You mean that?” His arms trembled with each drive into me, and his entire body shook. “That’s the truth?”

“Liam?” It was hardly a whisper. I was wrong, so very wrong. He wasn’t with me at that moment. No tether, no anchor.

“I’m sorry.” His voice broke, and he shook harder. His eyes slammed shut, and he shuddered an exhale, coming a few strokes later. “I’m sorry.” The words fanned against my neck. His heavy chest brushed mine, and I wrapped around him to hold him closer.

“It’s okay.” I traced circles over his back, the skin sticky and damp with sweat. “You have no reason to be sorry.”

I swallowed the painful acknowledgment that neither of us was speaking about the fact he came, and I didn’t. The ache in his words had nothing to do with whether his body made mine feel good.

We stayed like that for several quiet minutes, tension lingering in the air. Liam slowly pushed off me, leaving me empty on the bed when he went to the bathroom to clean up.

He didn’t come back before I fell into a restless sleep.

I awoke to the sound of heavy footsteps thundering down the hall. I rolled over, my stomach sinking with the cold space beside me.

Liam hadn’t come back at all.

Something wasn’t right.

My chest rose and fell with each stuttered breath, and I knew. He was gone. Even if I threw open my door and saw him with my own eyes standing in front of me, he was gone.

“Well, look who finally got up! It’s Monday, Brooke. Playing sick again?” My best friend’s sing-song cheer greeted me when I shuffled into the living room. She set her phone in her lap when I stood next to the couch and hovered over her like a storm cloud.

“Half-day,” I croaked. “Where’s Liam?”

She shrugged. “No idea. I have a hard enough time keeping track of my own schedule, let alone his.” Glancing at her phone, she mumbled something under her breath, then smiled at me. “Speaking of, I need to go view a building. Finding a dance studio space to rent is a fucking nightmare.”

“Good luck.” I waved as she gathered her things and hurried out with one arm in her jacket and the other balancing a coffee mug as she tried to right-side out the sleeve.

Standing in an empty living room, I planted my hands on my hips and pursed my lips. I didn’t have to go to work until after lunch.

I knocked on Liam’s door, but his jacket was gone, and his shoes, too. No surprise when he didn’t answer.

Me: Hey. Where are you? I have to head to the lab around one, and I was hoping to see you.

I returned to my room, changing and tidying up as if I needed to, and it wasn’t a pathetic distraction. His message came a few minutes later.

Liam: Don’t wait for me.

I expected the other half of that message to drop because that couldn’t be it. Nothing else came, no explanation, no nothing. Most of the time, I couldn’t get him to shut up.

So I did what any reasonable person would do: I called in sick and waited for him.

He walked through the door in what would have been the second hour of my shift at work had I gone into the lab. Keys landed on the counter with a jangle. A heavy sigh followed.

“Shana?” The exasperation in his voice echoed down the hall, and I didn’t call out a reply.

I’m not Shana.

I hovered in my room with my ear pressed to the door, catching the muttered grumbles as he lumbered toward his bedroom.

He doesn’t know you’re home. He thinks you’re at work . I held my breath, hating that this was me, the girl hiding.

Liam growled a frustrated curse, his door throwing open with enough force to bounce into the wall and slam shut. I closed my eyes and counted to five, then left my room.

I knocked softly at his door and cracked it to peek my head inside. “Liam?”

He stiffened, coming to a complete standstill at a ninety-degree angle as he clutched a black garbage bag. A T-shirt spilled out. He blinked. “Brooke? Why aren’t you at work?”

My hand was on my throat, rubbing the knot stuck there. “Um. I called in sick. I thought… you might want to talk.” I gestured to the bag. “Early spring cleaning?”

He sighed and straightened up. “Brooke.”

My name hung in the air like a death knell. Tears welled in my eyes. “What are you doing?” I shook my head, my brain trying to make sense of what I saw, what my heart already knew. “You… You said… I thought things were…” I choked back a sob. “Something is off after last night, but I didn’t think you’d leave while I was at work. What did I do?”

“Nothing,” he whispered, refusing to look at me. His fingers dug into the bag tighter.

I didn’t recall entering the room, but there I was, suddenly at his side, tearing the plastic from his hands. “What did I do? What did I say? What, Liam?”

“Last night…” he trailed off, giving up and releasing the bag. “You needed more. Better. Different.”

I blinked, taken aback. “Excuse me? When did I say that?” My hand clasped to my chest. “I would never say that, ever.”

“You didn’t have to.” There was enough bitterness in his comment to cause me to flinch. “It was in every fucking interaction, Brooke. Every second, every moment.”

“What?” That didn’t make sense. I’d included him, paraded him around like a trophy, happy to have him by my side, even knowing he didn’t want to be there. “You’re wrong, Liam.”

“Then why…” He puffed a hard exhale and dropped his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Why did you make it sound like I played ball? Why did you only talk about that? Worse, you didn’t correct the impression that it’s still my life. My achievement. Antonio thinks he invited a professional athlete to his intramural team, and I couldn’t even correct him because who looks worse, then? Huh? Me for being a loser, or you for lying?”

“I’m—I’m sorry. You seemed so uncomfortable, and I wanted to find something of yours for common ground. Something that wasn’t robotics or work-related. It’s boring. It’s not interesting for you. I wanted to find a way to make you feel included.”

He laughed ruefully. “You assumed it’s boring for me. When did I ever give you that impression? Complain about it?” I averted my gaze. He nodded slowly. “I didn’t, not once, not even when I first moved in, and you thought I was a dick. Do you know why?”

“No.” My voice was hardly a whisper. Liam was right; he had never been anything other than inquisitive and attentive to my interests—all of them. There were no complaints, only assurances. I don’t know why I thought he would be bored, but it wasn’t because of something he’d done. “Why?”

“Because your passion for what you do is the most entrancing, enigmatic… fuck , alluring sight. You light up, and it’s beautiful and fascinating because it’s you .” He tugged at his hair, his eyes wide and frantic.

My heart clamored like a war drum, a call to battle an adversary far stronger and more powerful than I ever imagined facing: Liam’s insecurity and self-doubt.

“Then why are you pulling away? If you think I’m so fantastic, why are you backing out of this?” The words were unsteady, wavering in my courage to say them when I dreaded his answer.

“We’re idiots, Brooke. Men are idiots. We make mistakes… Sam, he made a mistake, but if it were him at your side, you wouldn’t have had to babysit or supervise.” He hurriedly licked his lips, glancing toward the door.

“I’m so confused.” My hands trembled to wipe the tears from my eyes. “Why are you doing this? Why are you self-destructing? Why are you being such an asshole?”

“I’m not,” he rasped, shaking his head. “I’m doing you a favor. I’m not the man for you, Brooke. I never was.”

“Are you…” I blew out a breath and planted my hands on top of my head. “Are you kidding me? Are you… Is this some kind of game? You get me to give in to my feelings for you, and now you’re jumping ship?” Dread settled in my gut. “Is this… are you… trying to embarrass me? Is this a fuck you?”

“Christ, Brooke. Of course not.”

My cheeks flamed crimson. I didn’t want to fall into my insecurities just because he anchored to his. But it was difficult not to feel inadequate when I practically begged for him to stay, and he was desperate to leave. Because maybe there wasn’t enough to stay for.

“It scares me, too, Liam. To feel something this—this… intense. I don’t want to mess it up, either. I’m terrified that the excitement will fade for you, and you’ll be bored with me because I’m not enough to hold your interest. That I was never enough to interest you?—”

“Are you kidding me? I was always interested in you, Brooke.” He gave me a pitied look so soft I nearly laughed. A tender sentiment for the man carving my heart out with the blade of his words.

I stepped in his direction, desperate to pull him to me and force him to stay. “Then show me. Show me that I’m the girl who is good enough to stay for. Stay for me. Stay with me. I want to stay with you, Liam. I don’t care about outcomes, remember? Just effort. Tell me I’m worth the effort.”

“You are worth every fucking ounce of effort and suffering. You are everything. That’s the fucking point.”

The sound of his feet brushing over the carpet echoed like thunder with each step toward his escape. He inched closer to the door, an agonizing retreat. He was going to leave. I saw it in the depths of his eyes, pools of sapphire blue as he drowned.

“My longest relationship was six weeks .” He tugged at his shirt collar. “I… can’t…”

Anger heated my skin, an agitated tightness pulling at the last of my nerves. I pushed myself—for him, because of him. “I trusted you. I believed you. I fell for you. Now you’re looking for a reason to leave. Why? Was I not enough for you?”

“You’re… too much.” He rubbed his face. His pained expression pierced right through me. “Why can’t you see it? You’re amazing, and you deserve someone equally amazing. A man who is your match, Brooke, and not the kind that lights shit on fire and burns it down. Not someone who embarrasses you.”

“You don’t embarrass me!” My eyes flickered over his, my throat raw with the cry. “God, you… fucking… idiot,” I sputtered. Not helping. I clasped my hands, pulling them together in a plea. “I want the fire. I want you .”

He snickered, and for a moment, his gaze softened. A flicker of hope ignited in my chest. Maybe my words pierced through the armor of his insecurities to touch the vulnerable heart beneath.

Thump, thump, thump . The beat that echoed mine.

“Maybe today, but when you’re left with nothing but a pile of ash? Then what?” He canted his head, his brows furrowed. “What happens when you realize it wasn’t worth it, and I have given you nothing to prove otherwise?”

“I see what you’re doing,” I said softly. “You’re hurt and angry, and you want to push away from something good. It scares you. You don’t want to lose anything else, but Liam, you did not burn your life down. You had a lot of terrible things happen to you, not because of you.”

A choked sound caught in his throat, and he cleared it quickly, shaking his head. “No, I don’t want to ruin anything else. I’m sorry, Brooke. I’m… I’m sorry, so sorry.”

He backed out of the room, clutching the half-full garbage bag. I followed him. I’d be just as unrelenting as the agony in my chest. I didn’t stop when he spun and strode down the hallway. I didn’t ease up when he trudged through the living room, the plastic crinkling when he tossed the bag over his shoulder and grabbed his keys.

“What? You’re going to run away because you’re scared? Because you think you’re not good enough?” I crossed my arms as if that would shove down the anger thrumming through my veins. “You’re not listening to me. Fight, Liam! You’re a Porter, and it’s what you do. It’s in your blood. Fight for yourself! You’re resilient. This is when you need to remember it.”

He got to the door, his hand hesitating. But he still twisted the knob and opened it. “I’m sorry, Brooke. Just…”

Liam left without looking back.