Wicked Heart (4 page)

“Okay, Mr. Qu—” I take a breath. “Sorry. Liam.”

The second I say his name, something shifts in the air. My skin prickles and his entire posture changes. In that moment, he’s not a movie star, and I’m not his stage manager.
We’re the same two desperately connected people who fell down a rabbit hole years earlier and climbed out forever changed.

He takes a step forward, and for a moment I think he’s going to touch me. But after looming over me for several long seconds, he turns on his heel, opens the door, and strides down the
corridor.

When he’s out of sight, I collapse into my chair and drop my head onto the desk.

So, yeah.

That went well.

If sitting on the couch eating cheese were a sport, right now I’d be the Olympic champion.

Our first day of rehearsals has left me drained. The thought of enduring another few months of controlling my reaction to Liam has led me to being pantsless in my favorite nightshirt as I inhale
a wedge of Jarlsberg.

“Wine?” Josh calls from the kitchen.

“If you have to ask that question after the day we’ve just had, then we’re no longer friends.”

I look up to see him in the doorway holding a wineglass so big, it could be seen from space. I suspect it’s holding an entire bottle of wine.

“I was being polite, loser. I already knew the answer.” He has a six-pack of beer in his other hand. “When we’ve finished this lot, I vote we move on to the
bourbon.” He passes me my wine, and then flops next to me as he uncaps a beer. He takes a long drink before letting out the world’s most resonant burp.

I groan in disgust. “You’re a class act. You know that?”

He holds up a fist. “Word.”

“Still pissed about your reaction to Angel?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. You talk a good game when you’re trying to get a woman into bed, but as soon as you meet someone you actually feel something for, you get all irritated. You did it last
year with Lara, and you’re doing it now with Angel.”

He leans back and shoves his hand in the waistband of his pants. “Hold that thought while I go get some toilet paper, because what’s coming out of your mouth right now is total
shit.”

“Okay, fine. Live in denial. But you’re still going to whack off to pictures of her, right?”

He shrugs. “Probably. Mike’s a total slut for leggy redheads.” He picks up the remote and starts flipping through channels.

“Remind me again why you named your penis Mike?”

“I didn’t. You did.”

I frown. “I did not. I don’t make a habit of naming penises. Especially not those belonging to my best friend.”

“Wrong. You once referred to my dick as ‘magic.’ Hence, Magic Mike.”

I laugh before taking a giant swig of wine. “God, you remember that? I was joking.”

“Sure you were.”

I smile as I put my feet up on his leg. He halfheartedly gives me a foot rub.

Josh and I have been living together for just over a year, and I never expected to enjoy living with a straight guy so much. After cohabitating with my brother for so long, I was relieved to get
away from him. I mean, I love Ethan, but he was pretty high-maintenance. I suspect he’d be more bearable now that he’s sorted out his life and gotten back together with his one true
love, but still . . .

Josh and I sit on the couch and drown our sorrows for almost an hour before I excuse myself and retreat to my bedroom. My head is all over the place right now, so I figure I should just call it
a day and hope tomorrow is better.

After I crawl into bed and close my eyes, thoughts of Liam push back in.

As much as I’d like to think everything that happened is now water under the bridge, it’s clear from our little confrontation in my office that there are issues that still need to be
sorted out between us.

Feeling nostalgic, I grab my phone and find the picture of us from the first night we met. Liam’s hand is on my face, and he’s kissing me so deeply, just looking at it gives me
tingles. That was the first time I ever laid eyes on him. The first time I ever kissed him. The first time my inner voice ever warned me to stay away from him.

There’s a light knock on the door, then Josh says, “Are you decent? Looking at porn? Waxing anything interesting?”

I smile. “None of the above, perv. Come in.”

When he opens the door, he gives my room the once-over. “Dammit. Just once I’d like for some underwear to be lying around. Especially those little red ones with the bows on the
back.”

“Josh, how many times have I asked you to stay out of my underwear drawer?”

“Twenty-three times and counting.”

“Well, this makes twenty-four.”

“Noted, and ignored.”

“Good, then.”

He shoos me with his hand. “Make room, woman.” When I move to the far side of the bed, he climbs under the covers next to me.

I quickly shut off my phone before he can see the photo.

“So,” he says as he turns on his side and props up his head with his hand. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“Well, you just watched most of an episode of
Dance Moms
without hurling abuse at the television. That’s never happened before.”

“I’m just tired, I guess.”

“Uh-huh. And perhaps you’re preoccupied because of a certain ex-flame.”

I pick imaginary fluff off the sheet. “Nah.”

“Yeah.” He grabs my chin and makes me look at him. “Are you ever going to tell me what went down between you and Quinn? I got the impression you guys were just about the hot
animal sex, but you really liked him, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want to.”

“But you did.”

I shrug.

“Lissa, talk to me. You’ve been keeping your feelings for Quinn on the down-low for years? What the hell?”

I rub my eyes. This is one subject I don’t feel comfortable discussing. What I shared with Liam feels like a precious secret, and if I talk about it, the things I remember as bright and
shiny will tarnish.

Josh lies on his back and closes his eyes. “Have it your way. I’m just going to rest here for a while. If you want to tell me a story of love and loss, that’s cool. If you
don’t, no problem. I’ll just have extra time to refold everything in your underwear drawer.”

I smile and push him so hard, he almost falls out of bed.

“Fine,” I say as he chuckles and makes himself comfortable again. “Once upon a time on a Friday night, me and my pushy best friend had a date in Times Square.

Six Years Earlier

Times Square

New York City

“Hey, beautiful lady. Where you headed?”

A random drunk dude steps in front of me, and I hit him with a withering gaze. “I’m meeting my karate-expert boyfriend, so step aside or risk him splintering you like a
kickboard.”

“Oh, sure. You just saying that to get rid of me? Or do you really got a boyfriend?”

I roll my eyes. “Look at me. I’m fine as hell. Of course I have a boyfriend. He’s right over there.”

I step around him, but I can feel him watching me as I climb the giant red staircase to where Josh is waiting.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says before bending down and planting a soft kiss on my lips. “Can’t wait to take you home so we can have all the sex.” He says it loud enough
for Random Drunk Guy to hear.

“Me, too,” I say, just as loudly. “The sex with you is my favorite. Your penis is like magic. And afterward, you can practice your lethal karate moves on people who hit on
me.”

Random Drunk Guy scowls and turns away, and I sit down and sigh. It’s ridiculous how often we have to do that.

“The magic-penis line is new,” Josh says as he casually drapes his arm around my shoulders. “I like it. It’s good for my ego.”

“I’m glad. But you know if you ever say something about my vagina, I’m going to hurt you, right?”

“Yep. I haven’t forgotten last time. Neither have my balls.”

I smile and lean my head on his shoulder.

Having a boy for a best friend can be both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, I always have a way to duck unwanted male attention when needed, but on the other hand, guys I
want
to notice me see Josh and assume I’m attached, so they steer clear. It can be frustrating.

I haven’t dated anyone seriously since high school, and even though I’m mostly happy about that because men are a distraction I don’t need right now, sometimes I have a twinge
of longing. A wistful desire for something more.

At least I have Josh. Tonight we’re doing one of our fave activities, which is sitting in the middle of Times Square and playing “Fuck, Marry, Kill” with people who pass
by.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Josh says as he points to people loitering in front of us. “Cowboy hat, skinny jeans, and chubby suit.”

“Hmmm. Tough one. They’re all pretty bad.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m going to need a decision.”

“Fine. Kill Skinny Jeans because then he can’t raise sons who will follow in his ridiculous hipster ways, marry Chubby Suit because it’s obvious the man has a job and can pay
for my cheese addiction, and fuck Mr. Cowboy Hat because he looks like he’d know his way around a filly, if you know what I mean.”

Josh frowns. “You’d fuck him because he can walk around a horse? I don’t understand.”

I elbow him. “Stop it. You know Mr. Literal is my least favorite of your personalities.”

“Wow, tough crowd. Okay, your turn.”

“Pink faux fur,” I say, and point to a girl with three-inch heels and six-inch hair.

Josh screws up his face. “Oh, Jesus. No. Kill.”

I point to a girl who I’m guessing has spent the equivalent of a year’s worth of wages on plastic surgery. “Fake-boob bobblehead.”

Josh tilts his head, and shrugs. “Fuck, but with the lights out.”

A girl in fishnets and a bowler hat walks by, handing out flyers to the people in the TKTS line scrambling to get last-minute seats for tonight’s shows.

“Liza Minnelli wannabe.”

Josh gets a look in his eye I know only too well. Theater girls give him a major boner.

“Marry,” he says, and his voice cracks a little. “God, look at her. ‘Come to Papa, baby.’ She could keep that whole outfit on in the bedroom.”

“Nuh-uh. If you marry her, you don’t get to bang her.”

He turns to me, his brows furrowed. “What? Since when don’t married people get to have sexual relations?”

“Uh, since this game was invented.”

“Bullshit.”

“Josh, how do you not know how this works? You get to fuck someone once, marry them forever
but
no sex, or kill them dead.”

“No way! It’s always been fuck them once, marry them so you can fuck them forever, or kill them after you’ve fucked them because the sex would be horrible.”

“Are you kidding me? Out of all the times you’ve been wrong since I’ve known you, this is the wrongest.”

He scowls. “ ‘Wrongest’ isn’t even a word.”

“I know, but I had to make something up to fully express how wrong you are right now.”

I feel warmth at my back right before a deep voice says, “Your girlfriend’s right, man. You’ve been playing it wrong. You don’t get to have sex when you’re married.
Everyone knows that.”

I turn around, and leaning forward from his position on the step behind us is the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.

Oh, wow.

It’s like there was a lottery somewhere on facial perfection, and this guy won the jackpot. Sandy-brown hair, thick and wavy, unbelievable blue-green eyes, full lips curled into a wry
smile.

Congratulations on your face, sir.

I glance at the thick biceps peeking out of his T-shirt.

And your body. Congrats on it all.

He would be
Fuck
. Most definitely.

Josh must notice my reaction because he quickly says, “Oh, she’s not my girlfriend. I mean, we used to date but I couldn’t keep up with her in the sack. She was insatiable. All
day, every day. I never knew one woman was capable of taking that much dick—”

I squeeze Josh’s thigh until he squirms. “Please excuse my friend. He knows I’m going to kill him now, and fear of the afterlife makes him babble.”

Mr. Fuck gives me a smile. Well, he gives it to both of us, but I’m claiming it because his gaze lingers on me longer. I’m fairly certain he checks out my boobs. It gives me tingles.
I haven’t had tingles this powerful for . . . well, ever.

The hottie must approve of what he sees, because his tone is undeniably flirty. “So if your friend is the one getting killed, who are you going to fuck and who are you going to
marry?” The way he says it leaves no doubt in my mind which he’d rather be.

He holds his hand out to me. “I’m Liam, by the way. Liam Quinn.”

I take his hand and try to keep my expression passive as the feel of his skin lights me up more than all the giant billboards around us. “I’m Elissa. Holt.”

“Very nice to meet you, Elissa.” He unashamedly stares as he continues to hold my hand.

Oh, he’s good. No doubt he uses this technique all the time to turn girls into piles of goo. I’m a little irritated it works on me. I thought I was immune to this type of smug
self-awareness.

Liam.
Even his name is sexy.

Josh clears his throat. “Okay, so you guys have been shaking hands for a creepy amount of time, and now I’m super-uncomfortable. I’m Josh, by the way. In case you
care.”

Liam laughs and shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you too, Josh.”

Josh gives him a skeptical nod. “Sure it is. Elissa, should we invite our new friend to have dinner with us?”

That snaps me out of my tunnel vision. It’s one thing for me to lust after a handsome stranger. It’s another to do anything about it.

“Uh . . . I’m sure Liam has better things to do.”

Liam shrugs. “Not really. I’m seeing
King Lear
at eight, but considering I’ve been stood up, I’m at a loose end ’til then.”

Josh’s scoffs. “
You’ve
been stood up?”

“Well, ‘dumped’ would be a more accurate description. By the girl I’ve been with for a year.”