His chest shakes from laughter, bringing my attention to the way his shirt presses against the muscles of his torso. Bad Sophie.
Liam toys with the end of my French braid. “I’d face the consequences. Especially when I’d bring out another type of freak in you. All you need to do is admit defeat.” His eyes smolder.
My skin heats at his unspoken promises.
“Hey, Sophie, sorry for keeping you waiting. I had some last adjustments to make to the car. Are you ready? Oh, hey, Liam.”
I look over at John, a decent-looking guy with a mop of brown hair and kind eyes. Nothing I’d write home about if I did that sort of thing, but at least he comes off genuine. He’s the type of guy my dad would expect me to hang out with. Not the brooding man in front of me, baby blues and pouting lips on full display.
Liam scoots closer to my side, his neck pulsing. “Hey, Joe. How’s it going?”
“John.” I hiss under my breath.
Liam sends me a shit-eating grin, showing me he knows exactly whom he is speaking to. My poor date doesn’t stand a chance against the territorial man next to me.
John shifts his weight from foot to foot, ignoring Liam’s mistake. “Pretty good. Going to take Sophie out before we get busy again for the race.”
“Oh, I had no idea Sophie was making other friends besides me and Maya. Are you trying to make me jealous?” Liam’s eyes narrow at me. He runs a hand down my back, my breath hitching at his touch. His large palm lands in the dip of my back above my ass.
I step away from him and closer to John, wanting to avoid the way I want more of Liam’s touch. “Don’t be silly. I have plenty of time for all my friends.”
Liam’s nostrils flare. John’s confused eyes flick between Liam and me, unable to solve the mystery of us. Call me a shitty Sherlock because I can’t either.
“Well, it’s nice catching up. Text you later, Liam.” I drag John away from Liam.
A glance over my shoulder reveals a ticked-off Liam, his boyish charm discarded along with his easygoing smile.
I push aside the image of an angry Liam as John leads me out of McCoy’s motorhome. John’s hand remains respectfully in the middle of my back, nowhere near the spot where Liam’s was. His touch doesn’t rile me up like Liam’s does. I frown at the revelation.
Our date goes fine, and for some reason, it disappoints me. We walk through Milan’s side streets with my hand in his. My body remains numb, not a flutter in my stomach or a hint of chemistry when John grabs my hand. Even my heart keeps to the same pace while my skin remains unflushed, like my body won’t recognize John.
I chalk up my limited reaction to needing an emotional connection to someone else. Liam and I developed a friendship first, so maybe I need the same with John. It seems legit enough to make sense.
The idea eats away at me for the rest of the day, even after John drops me off at my hotel. I can’t ignore the tiny voice in my head telling me how maybe I like Liam for more. If I wasn’t scared at the notion of being attracted to Liam, then the idea of wanting more from him besides a meaningless physical connection and friendship makes me want to throw up.
I don’t want to ruin a good friendship over being another conquest in his list of contacts. That thing probably takes up four gigs of memory on his phone.
You know what is more unfortunate than falling for your friend?
Falling for a friend who has no intention of catching you before you face-plant.
A cool breeze brushes over my skin, causing one of the pages of my magazine to flip on its own. I can’t resist the hidden rooftop deck the F1 Corporate office has. Their motorhome remains the sleekest, with smooth lines and chill spaces. I lie down on one of the couches with my back pressed up against the pillows.
“How’s the list going?”
I smile at the sound of Liam’s voice. He’s typically inquisitive about the status of my checked boxes.
“Want me to make you one? You always wonder about mine, which makes me think you need one of your own.” I stare at him like a weirdo, taking in his gray McCoy polo and backward hat.
He grins at me as I close my magazine. His hands lift my legs before he sits, placing them back on his thighs. Every time Liam gets near me, my body becomes aware of his closeness, betraying me with goosebumps and an elevated heart rate. I regret the shorts I picked out this morning. They expose my legs to his arms, skin against skin.
“No, I enjoy knocking off items on yours much more. There’s nothing like your first time.” His sensual tone does things to me.