Going Wild (The Wild Ones 2)

He looks surprised for a second, but then his lips leisurely curve in that unforgettable, panty-melting smile.

“This is the last place I ever thought I’d run into you. Not exactly how I imagined it,” he says, taking a step toward me.

Liam. Liam freaking Harper. It’s Liam. Hey, did I mention I see Liam?

Crazy town train, stop one complete.

I stumble backwards, and he stops his advance, arching an eyebrow at me as he smirks. I’m still too stunned and worry about what happens if I talk back to my hallucinations. I think those books said to never do that.

He’s just as devilishly gorgeous as I remember, if not sexier. Because he’s not in a pair of jogging shorts. He’s not wearing a T-shirt.

No, he’s in a suit. A perfectly fitted suit that screams for attention, because he looks like sex and sin wrapped up in a designer package.

Lilah’s words slowly sink in. Her neighbor who’s been here for over a month because of a girl he barely knew…

I think back to hearing whispers of the sexy man living next to the Vincents.

The man who just walked into this cabin like he’s friends with the two craziest fools on this corner of the lake.

The man I never saw fitting into my world at all.

“I joined the challenge committee,” he says seriously, as though he’s somehow explaining why he’s here, and I cover my mouth, trying not to laugh.

“Smooth. Real smooth,” Hale says from somewhere behind me, letting me know this is really happening and it’s not a hallucination.

Liam shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as his eyes screw shut.

“This really isn’t how I wanted to see you for the first time. Give me a minute.”

My smile falls away as reality comes back into play.

“Why are you in Tomahawk?” I ask.

He looks at me as if I’m the one who is insane. Usually, that’s a fair assessment, but under the circumstances…

“Why else would I be in Tomahawk?” he asks incredulously. “I’m here because of you.”

Yeah, I’m in one of the four corners of crazy for a reason. I totally find it romantic. And if I hadn’t had an eye-opening glimpse into his life, I’d already be on him and riding him right in front of the Vincent boys.

But I’m not stupid. Liam may be in Tomahawk now, but it’s sure as hell not a long-term fix. He loved the city. He loved his life. When he wasn’t hurt, he loved being showy and flashy and surrounding himself with people who take note of how prestigious he is.

He had pictures all over his house of himself shaking hands with famous, rich, and important people.

This is always going to be my home.

And none of that flashy jazz comes with the territory.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I tell him shakily.

He frowns. “Well, that’s not the answer I was hoping for, especially since I’ve already done it. I’ve been here for over a month. Closer to two.”

I roll my eyes, keeping some very precious distance between us so that I don’t tackle him to the ground and say to hell with it.

“Liam,” I groan, “you’re the kind of guy who forgets he has a girlfriend. And I’m the kind of girl who will get your name tattooed on my right boob within a matter of weeks.”

His smile spreads. “Why the right one specifically?”

And there’s that charm I love so much. He’s always just rolled with my crazy like he couldn’t get enough of it.

“Because it’s a little bigger than my left one, so it’s my favorite.”

He smiles even broader.

“Prove it,” Hale says from behind me, and I flip him off as Liam casts a glare in his direction.

“Can you two give us a minute?” Liam asks them.

“You’re in our cabin,” Killian points out, grinning outright at us.

“Benson has been quiet for an awfully long time,” I remind them.

Both their eyes widen in panic, when suddenly there’s an answer to that. “I’m just hiding back here and listening. Don’t mind me,” Benson pipes in.

The Vincent boys relax, and I walk over, grabbing Liam’s hand, trying to ignore how that one innocent touch sends a pang of longing throughout my entire body.

I drag him outside, which isn’t hard, since he comes willingly. As soon as we’re near the lake, I spin around to talk to him and get to the bottom of this.

And…

He kisses me.

His lips are on mine, his hands are dragging me in, and he’s kissing me stupid. I open my mouth to gasp, and his tongue sweeps in, reminding me how damn talented he is with that thing.

My hands go up, fingers tangling in his hair, and his hands slide down to my waist, tugging me up against him.

I moan instead of pushing him away, and he takes that as an invitation to push me back against a tree. He lifts my leg to his hip, and my dress hikes up as he grinds against me.