“Peyton,” I supply, still butterflying from the kiss.
Remy nods and turns his full attention to Emma, unleashing a panty-dropping grin on her and pointing his beer bottle at her. “Now I’m only missing your name.”
To my best friend’s honor, she doesn’t capitulate right away. She smirks back. “You’re gonna have to work harder for that, cowboy.”
The younger Evans doesn’t look like someone who backs down from a challenge.
While Remy turns his full charm offensive on my best friend—and Emma seems more than happy to be conquered—I grab Liam’s hand and tug him away from the bar.
“Mind if we talk, hubby?”
He nods and unexpectedly pulls me onto the dance floor.
The band has moved on to a slower ballad that makes it easy to sway together with no real dancing skills. Liam’s hands come around me, holding me from the small of my back while I loop my arms behind his neck.
The tequila hums in my blood. The warmth of his body seeps through my costume.
I smile at him teasingly. “Someone got jealous.”
“I wasn’t jealous.”
“Really? Then what was that?”
“Me saving Remy Evans from making a fool of himself.”
“Mmm,” I hum. “How generous of you.”
“I’m very altruistic.”
“You know, it’d be okay if you were a bit jealous.” I tilt my head, studying his face. “I mean, if I saw you talking to a babe in a bar, I’d be jealous too.”
His eyes snap to mine. “You think Remy is a babe?”
I scoff-chuckle. “Everyone with eyes thinks Remy is a babe. I bet Emma is considering saving a horse tonight.”
Liam frowns. “What?”
“Save a horse… ride a cowboy?”
His grip on me tightens, his hand pressing harder against the small of my back, as he draws me closer until no space is left between us.
I grin up at him. “Are you sure you’re not a teensy bit jealous?”
“Why do you want to know?”
The tequila has made me brave. Or stupid. Probably both.
“Look,” I say, “I know we’re not really married. I mean, we are, legally, but we’re not—whatever. This isn’t a real relationship. And I’m a little tipsy right now, so maybe this is dumb, but—” I take a breath. “Fuck it. I think I like you.”
His shoulders go rigid under my arms.
“If you asked me out on a date,” I continue, the alcohol loosening my tongue, “I’d say yes. And I’d want you to kiss me at the end of the night.” The dazed grin that spreads across Liam’s face gives me more courage than any liquor ever could. “And if we weren’t already living together… I’d struggle not to invite you in after that kiss. But I wouldn’t. Because I’d want the relationship not to be just about sex.”
“How can you be so open about your feelings?” he asks. “Aren’t you worried I’d say I’m not interested?”
“Well.” I shrug despite the way my pulse is hammering in my throat. “The fact that you walked into the bar and practicallybranded my ass with a giant ‘Property of Liam Rockwood’ stamp gave me a confidence boost.”
Liam throws his head back and laughs. The sound is rich, warm, and full, and it burns in my stomach worse than tequila.