“Last one. Then we’re calling you an Uber.”
“Party pooper.”
Liam busies himself with other patrons, occasionally checking in to make sure I haven’t fallen off my stool or drowned in my cocktail. The next time he leaves, someone calls me over to one of the tall tables scattered near the stage.
I stumble over to a small gathering of six or seven people standing around the table with a tray of shots in the middle. Some of them are vaguely familiar, but I can’t even begin to put a name to their faces.
A dark-haired woman with bright red lips and a cowboy hat hands me a shot glass with yellow liquid inside. “Settle a debate for us, Ruby. Did you or did you not fuck Connor Murphy after prom?”
I know that shrill voice. It’s one of the cheerleaders from the high school cheer team. Mickey or Minnie or some stupid name. I never ran with that crowd, despite Connor being on the football team.
Not that he would’ve wanted me around anyway.
“Nope.” I throw back the shot and slam the empty glass on the table before stealing another and doing the same. “Hope that helps.”
Raucous laughter follows me as I make my way back to the bar.
I slide onto the stool and lock eyes with Liam, standing there with his arms crossed and a stern expression on his face. “What did Missy McBitchface want?”
“Oh my god, I forgot that was what I used to call her! She just wanted to know if I fucked your brother after prom.” There I go again, no filter. I lean across the bar, pressing my tits against the surface. “Doyouwanna know if I fucked your brother after prom?”
Liam leans in and presses his thumb under my chin, tilting my head. I momentarily forget how to breathe. Is he going to kiss me?
In a low, gravelly voice, he says, “I already know you didn’t. I was the one left picking up the pieces at the end of the night.”
With a quick tap on my nose, Liam retreats, taking his warmth with him. I watch his back as he approaches his coworker, whispering something in her ear. She laughs and pats him on the back. I’mnotjealous at all.
He tosses his keys in the air. “Come on, Goldie. Time to take you home.” When I don’t respond, he adds, “Or do I need to throw you over my shoulder?”
“Is that an option?”
He glares at me.
“Fine. I’m coming.” The innuendo isn’t lost on me, and I dissolve into a fit of giggles.
Ok, maybe Ihavehad one too many shots.
With an exasperated shake of his head, Liam leads me out the back exit to his truck in the employee lot. Vision hazy, I stumble on a crack in the pavement, wincing as I anticipate the inevitable pain waiting for me when I hit the ground.
It never comes.
Instead, I’m pushed up against a hard chest, two strong arms banded around my back. Our eyes meet, and my breath hitches. I could pop onto my tiptoes, and our lips would be touching.
“Ok, no more walking for you.” Before I can argue, he liftsme into his arms and all but tosses me into the backseat of his truck.
My thoughts trail off as Liam pulls onto Main Street and turns in the opposite direction from the ranch.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Taking you to my place.”
“But—”
“It’s probably best if you don’t go home drunk, and I can bring you back to grab Dolly in the morning when I come in for work.”
“Oh. You don’t have to?—”
“Ruby. It’s not up for debate.”
