SIXTEEN
“Goingout?”Liamasked me as he brushed by me and entered the house. I’d crossed hurdle one now that he was here. He couldn’t still be that upset about Kit.
“I’m picking up Kit in an hour.” I followed him to the kitchen.
He reached for a glass and poured himself a drink. “Making it official, then?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Just that I have to see what this is between us.”
Liam replaced the stopper on the decanter and leaned against the island. “I’ve never seen you this worked up about anyone.”
“Exactly, so you have to understand how important this is to me.” I sighed, propping an elbow on the island. “Look, I know you like Kit, but he likes me, and I feel the same way about it so—”
“So screw what I want.”
I groaned, rubbing a hand over my face. “This was much easier when I was just into women. Then we didn’t have to compete over the same guy.”
“Some competition. You’ve already won.”
I dropped my hand. “What do you want me to do? Stop seeing him?” Just the thought dug a hole deep inside my chest. In the six weeks since I’d known him, the boy had managed the impossible—to make me care more than I’d ever cared about anyone else.
“Would you if I asked?”
As much as I wanted to tell him yes, the word refused to leave my lips. I’d never been at this impasse before, where I had to choose my best friend or someone else. In all my prior relationships, I would have chosen Liam in a heartbeat.
“Just as I thought.” He drained the drink and placed the glass on the counter. “Look, I won’t keep busting your balls about this. It’s fine if you want to date your boy toy.”
“He’s not a toy.”
“The truth, Sullivan, is that after thinking hard about it, I realize that attraction aside, Kit’s not the kind of guy I’d want to be with anyway, so it was useless being angry about it.”
My body tensed, and I scowled at him. “What’s wrong with Kit?”
“Nothing, but after all those men, I don’t think I’m that confident being with a guy like that.”
I waved away his comment. “That’s all in the past. I don’t care about who he slept with before.”
“Of course not. Your ego can handle it.”
“So we’re cool?”
“Yeah, we’re cool.”
Meow.
“Whoa, what the hell is that?”
Cinnamon, the three-legged cat Kit had “talked” me into adopting at the cat café, hobbled into the kitchen. She stopped a few feet away from me and started licking herself.
“It’s a cat.”
“I can see that,” Liam said. “I mean, what is it doing here?”
“I adopted her. Meet Cinnamon. She might take a while getting used to the name.”
I scooped the cat up in my arms and scratched her. “She’s still learning about her new home.”
“What the hell is happening to you? I thought your philosophy was no attachments. Now you’ve gotten yourself a boyfriend and a cat. What next? A trip to city hall?”