Bad Boy Rich

And while you’re sitting there with a confused look on your face trying to understand what I just said… YOUR SASS IS A TURN ON.

I’ll see you next Friday.

I throw my cell on top of my bag, letting out a huff which wakes the girls up. They both comment on how fantastic it was to nap without children and how refreshed they were after only 30 minutes.

“Oh, Milana, you look red.” Emerson scowls, touching my face with her fingertip.

I wanted to tell her that her ex-fiancé knew how to push buttons when he wanted and perhaps the red face is from anger not heat stroke.

“I should probably go, my skin is so Alaskan that I’m worried I’ll prune into a ball of sunburn.”

“You could borrow my hat?”

I laugh. “I’ll pass. I may not be the next fashionista but that hat is awful.”

We all giggle, and with quick goodbyes, I make my way home.

Back at home, it didn’t take long for Joe, our resident drunk, to comment on my appearance or even Mrs. Jones from apartment 2B. She had a remedy for sunburn because her ex-husband was as pale as you could get them. I politely tell her that I may drop by later, slowly walking up the narrow stairwell towards our apartment. Even my bag on my shoulder begins to hurt.

As I turn the corner around the banister, I stand back in shock, staring at a body slumped against my door. The lighting is poor in the dark corridor and the closer I move, his face begins to take shape.

I take a deep breath, with fear and comfort.

“You’re here.”

I wasn’t sure how to react, we were just on the phone and he was there and I was here.

“Hello,” I croak.

He stands up, practically throwing himself at me and lifting me in his arms. Taking a step back, he’s quick to tell me he misses me, placing his lips onto mine. My mouth forces open, welcoming his familiar taste as he presses against me; hard and full of passion.

Pulling back, slightly, I look deeply into his eyes.

“I miss you too…” I smile, a little forced. “Liam.”

“Can we go in?”

I’m stuck in a daze, staring at him in complete shock. Though we just kissed, I’m without words—examining his profile and trying to allow this all to sink in.

He hasn’t changed much since I saw him over a month ago; hair grown slightly longer with drabby ends, yet still tied back away from his face. Most of the time he was dressed in overalls, so the white tee and jeans were new. I recall our conversation at the beach earlier, chuckling to myself at the sight of him dressed this way.

“Sorry, how rude of me.”

“Milly, wait…”

The palm of his hand grazes against my cheek, his lips meeting mine again, lingering with a soft suck of my bottom lip. Tearing away slowly, the angst builds up inside, my breathing hitched.

“C’mon, let me show you around mi casa.”

“Huh?”

“My place.” I chuckle, opening the door to Flynn sitting on the couch with some friends. It’s the first time I had seen these guys—possibly band members—lounging all over the apartment with bottles of beer emptied and sitting on the coffee table. Two of them had guitars in their arms, one singing a tune, and Flynn tapping his drumsticks against the table.

“Liam?” Flynn is equally surprised, standing up and grinning as he shakes Liam’s hand followed by that weird hug that men do. “Milly didn’t say you were coming into town.”

Liam grabs my hand, clutching it with pride. “Kinda surprised her. You know, when you miss your girl you just gotta do what you just gotta do.”

I’d never heard him refer to me as his girl, and I didn’t mind it. Both of them, in this room, felt like home. I could feel myself getting emotional; that homesick feeling that took over my life the first two weeks here—reappears.