The Taste of Trouble

I reminded myself that was the last visit.

Walking away from Ethan in the gym was last.

That this cycle of wanting and running, craving and regretting, **had to stop** between us.

And I nearly convinced myself for a while as well.

I poured myself into the university. Into hanging out with Tessa, into forcing a smile, into making myself believe that things were good.

Actually, though?

Nothing was fine.

For he was still all around.

And no matter how hard I tried to ignore him—it kept happening.

Friday night dawned.

Tessa had hauled me to a party, swearing I needed a diversion.

And in the first hour I let myself act.

Let me drink, laugh, dance; let me imagine I might go forward.

Of course, though, he was present.

Looking too serene, too unaffected, too much like a goddamn mistake waiting to happen, he leaned against a wall and held a drink.

And the worst aspect is also here.

He was not on his alone.

Right next to him stood a girl.

Blancine. Smiling.

Leaning just a little too near.

And suddenly, it didn't matter how much I had sworn I didn't care anymore.

Because I did.

I told myself to look aside.

To turn around, get another drink, and forget I had seen anything at all.

But instead— I stared.

Watched as she giggled at something he said.

Watched as his arm sloppily leaned against the wall next her, his body angled just enough to make it very evident he was not pushing her away.

Something hot and pointed landed in my chest.

I was not entitled to be envious.

No reason to feel this dumb, absurd ache like I did; I lost something never mine to start with.

That did not stop it from burning though.

Ignored the impulse to march over there and rip him off her.

And perhaps it explains why I behaved carelessly.

I looked at Tessa, pasting on a smile like a falsehood.

Let's do shots.

Startled at my unexpected fervor, she blinked.

She did not, however, challenge it.

She simply took my hand, pulled me toward the bar, and gave two tequila shots orders.

I scarcely felt the burn and knocked down mine all at once.

I have to be numb.

Had to shove down whatever this was before it consumed me alive.

Tessa turned to smile. "Damn, Liv," says. You, alright?

I started to giggle under duress. Not better than nothing at all.

But Ethan was watching me when I turned back toward the throng.

His jaw is clenched. His hold on his drink a touch too tight.

And I knew suddenly as well.

Not just myself was acting here.

I ought to have kept it unaltered.

Should have left before things grew worse.

Instead, though, I performed the exact reverse.

Not sure I was making a big mistake; I threaded through the throng and went right for him.

As I approached, his eyes darkened and his posture changed as if he were bracing for contact.

Still seated next to him was the blonde girl.

Still, I didn't give a damn.

I crossed my arms and just halted just in front of him.

"Didn't know you would be here."

His lips pulled into something incomprehensible. " Didn't think you would care."

I squeezed my teeth. "I don't."

His eyes flicked over me, as though he knew exactly the degree of dishonesty involved.

Then he slanted his head toward the blonde.

He said casually, "This is Katie."

Ignorant of the tempest blazing between us, she grinned at me.

Though it felt like glass in my throat, I answered the smile.

Then, feeling reckless and dumb and totally out of control, I turned to the man next to me.

And I went down his arm running my fingertips.

"Oh," I murmured softly, approaching him closely. "This is Jordan."

Ethan went stiff, and I felt that.

Sensed his whole-body stiffening like I had just sprayed gasoline on an open flame.

And I realized—this round I had won.

For Ethan Carter was not merely observing me right now.

He burned.

His eyes followed my hand still resting on Jordan's arm.

His jaw twitched.

And for a moment I believed he was going to let it pass.

That he would participate in the same game—pretend as it did not disturb him.

Then, though, he behaved differently than I had anticipated.

He took hold of my wrist.

Organization. uncompromising.

And in one fluid, careless movement—He drew me back.

Second, we were by ourselves; I tore my arm away.

" What the hell was that?" I stopped.

Ethan's chest rose and fell too quickly and too uneven.

You truly want to play that game, Liv? His voice was harsh and low.

I snipped. "I have no idea what you mean.".

He burst out in a sour laugh. "Exactly."

silence.

Broad. Powered.

And then he stepped forward.

Then one more.

till no room remained between us.

Until I could smell the familiar aroma I had spent weeks trying to forget, felt the heat of him.

He said, "Tell me you don't want this."

My pulse paused.

I started to swallow forcefully. "Tell me, Liv," he said, his voice dark and frantic.

And I realized—I could stop here.

Here exactly.

right now.

I had nothing except lying to do.

I didn't, though.

Since he kissed me before I could even consider it.

And I allowed him, just as every previous time.

It was burning.

Heat and appetite, careless and uncontrollable.

Like he had been deprived of, his hands went to my waist, drawing me in.

Like he had been pining for me.

And I kissed him back with every bit of frustration, every bit of longing, every bit of need blazing inside me since the moment I turned away.

Still, this was not only a kiss.

She made a mistake.

One we had previously repeated far too frequently.

And once more we would make.

No matter how many times we vowed this was over—it kept happening.

And I was beginning to believe that always will be the case.

The circle of Liv and Ethan keeps on; they cannot avoid one another.

Envy drives them into still another error.

The suspense is at an all-time level; where from here do they go?

This kiss impacted them hard with consequences.