Page 8 of Backup Plan

I glance up, taking my eyes off the sidewalk, and naturally I clip the edge of my shoe in a crack.

I tumble straight to my left, right into Liam’s shoulder. I reach up to steady myself, and my hand lands on his chest.

Wow, that’s firm.

He loops an arm around my waist to make sure I’m not about to fall over, and I catch a whiff of his cologne. It’s warm and woodsy, masculine and clean and sexy. “You okay?” His big, brown eyes look upon me with such concern, such genuine, sweet concern, that I’m tempted to lean in and press my lips to his.

Whoa.

Penelope Lane Wade Calloway, what the hell are you thinking? This is your best friend’s little brother! He’s way too young for you!

I push that dumb voice of reason straight out of my head.

“I’m okay,” I murmur softly, and my eyes flick to his lips. His lush, pillowy lips. What would they feel like beneath mine? What would they feel like dragging on my neck, across my throat, along my thigh?

He clears his throat, and I seem to get my wits back about me.

I remove my hand from that hard, chiseled chest. “Sorry,” I mutter.

A soft smile lifts his lips. “No reason to be.”

I turn away from him and start to walk forward again, but he doesn’t move. I stop and turn back. “What are you doing?”

His gaze flicks away from me toward the street where cars are racing by. We’re alone out on the sidewalk for the moment, cars parallel parked on the street beside us, another shop to the other side of us. The wind whips around us, and he finally returns his gaze to mine. “Warring with myself.”

“Warring with yourself?” I repeat. “What does that mean?”

He opens his mouth to reply, but then it snaps shut, and his jaw works back and forth a few times. Eventually, he lets out a breath. “Nothing. Never mind.”

I close the few steps I walked away from him until I’m back in his orbit, back to that warm, woodsy scent. “What?”

He stares at me, his eyes full of indecision even in the darkness out here. He looks nearly dangerous when a car zips by, illuminating his eyes with the bright headlights, or when another car slams on the brakes and a red light flashes a stripe across his eyes.

I take one more step closer to him so I’m close enough that he could reach out for me. I want him to reach out for me, and I can’t explain why. “What?” I whisper.

“You’re Penny,” he says simply.

I nod. “That’s right. I’m Penny.”

He grunts out a chuckle. “No, I mean, you’re Penny. You’re my sister’s friend. You’re going through a lot of shit. I’m going through a lot of shit, too, and hell if I know where I’m going to land. But, fuck, Pen. Tonight’s been fun, and I guess I just…”

He glances all around, everywhere but at me.

“You just what?” I prompt.

Finally, his eyes land on mine. “I haven’t had fun with a woman in a long time. That’s all.”

“So what’s the war?” I ask, confused since I thought he was going to go in a totally different direction with that.

He looks awkwardly away from me again, and he runs his hand through his hair. It moves back with his hand but falls messily back into place. “Never mind. Let’s just get home.”

CHAPTER 3: Penny Calloway

Just One Night

We walk in silence the rest of the way, my heart pounding with what he was going to say. We stop in front of a high-rise literally around the corner from the bar, and he walks through the double doors. A staff member greets him, and we bypass the desk toward a set of private elevators.

He pushes the button, and I wonder what it would be like to walk through the fancy lobby here with Sammy and Benji screaming at each other over who stole whose bouncy ball and who lost whose slime.