Page 26 of All Bets Are Off

My features contort in repulsion as I shake my head no, protectively hugging my arms around myself. “Liam, please—”

“For fuck’s sake, Addy!” he snaps, tearing out of the armchair as I flinch in fear. “You can’t even apologize right, can you? I’m trying to connect with you, to make tonight better, and you’re being so difficult.” His hands are in the air, fingers pointing aggressively, and the terror is so overwhelming I immediately give in.

The first time Liam ever backhanded me, I didn’t flinch. I didn’t need to flinch, because I had no reason to ever expect him to lay his hands on me. It was nearly two years ago, that first time. I can’t remember now exactly what the argument was that set him off that night, but I remember being so stunned, so shocked to my core, that I just sat in a crumpled pile on the floor, touching the smear of blood on my mouth, gaping at him. He was as bewildered as I was. Had no idea what had come over him. He was just stressed, and he was so sorry, and he promised it would never, ever happen again.

Except it did happen again, just a few months later.

Lately, Liam doesn’t need to lay his hands on me anymore, because the mere threat of it alone is enough to keep me in perfect order.

“Okay! Okay!” I splutter, backing away from him now with my hands up in defeat, showing him my compliance. “Let me show you I’m sorry, okay?”

Suddenly, Liam’s lips crash into mine, hard. It’s not insatiable hunger, it’s not irresistible desire—it’s power and fire, so all-consuming it’s frightening. One hand is on my neck, the other hikes up my dress. As I struggle to get into sync with him, tears burn at my eyes and my heart pounds erratically.

There’s a click, and the door abruptly swings open.

“Fucking hell, Connor!” Liam snarls, tearing his lips from mine and immediately zipping his jeans shut and redoing his belt. “A little privacy with my fiancée, please?”

Connor stands in the doorway, key card in hand. He doesn’t immediately blush and back out of the room like most people would when walking in on such a scene. Instead, he stands with intention, brown eyes analyzing the room, analyzing me.

The vulnerability in this moment is almost too much, and I quickly smooth out my dress and sit on the edge of Liam’s bed, hugging one of the decorative pillows to my chest and blinking at the floor. The adrenaline running through my body is making me nauseous, and I’m fighting as hard I can to keep my pressing tears at bay.

“Damn, sorry, guys,” Connor apologizes, very insincerely. “I have some meds I need to remember to take before I pass out from the booze soon. My bad for assuming you really were just grabbing a new shirt.”

“I am,” Liam mutters. He slips his arms into the fresh shirt and clumsily does up the buttons before grabbing his half-empty can of beer from the side table. He takes a swig and shakes his head in aggravation as he heads for the door. “I need something stronger than this, so I’ll see you guys back in the club. Adelaide?” He glances back at me over his shoulder.

“Let me just fix my lipstick and then I’ll be straight down,” I say, forcing a smile that painfully splinters my taut expression. “Have a vodka cranberry waiting for me when I get there?”

“Sure thing,” Liam says, and he digs an elbow into Connor’s ribs as he passes him in the doorway, conveying his irritation at the interruption.

Connor just shrugs nonchalantly, his eyes following Liam out of the room. As soon as the door fully closes, Connor instantly breaks into a stride toward me. He stops two feet away, gazing down at me on the edge of the bed with concerned brown eyes that flash with questions he doesn’t want to know the answers to.

“Adelaide,” he says softly, and in the split second before a sob tears from my throat, I manage to whisper, “Thank you.”

14

Hailey

It’s after 1 a.m. by the time Theo and I finally rejoin the bachelor/bachelorette party, and the intensity of the club nearly sends me into meltdown. My body is exhausted from a long day, my mind is drained creatively from working on my book, and having Theo permanently so close to me is becoming suffocating. Despite enjoying his company, I’m really starting to crave a dark, silent room.

Marquee is far from dark and silent—the music is so loud, I feel each beat drop vibrate through my body, and the flashing lights are so overwhelming, I honestly just feel stressed. One of the bottle service hosts guides us through the crowds toward the booth I spent far too many nights planning, and our presence is immediately celebrated. Tyler whoops. John pats Theo around the back of his neck. Melissa claps her hands together in delight.

“Finally!” Evie yells, acrobatically launching herself over the drinks table. “I thought you guys were never going to show up. How long exactly did you need to grab something from your room?” She arches a skeptical eyebrow at Theo, then gives me a sidelong look paired with a knowing smile.

My cheeks immediately heat up from being under pressure, but it is not what she thinks. Yes, Theo and I were absolutely gone longer than five minutes—but because I had my eyes burning holes in my Word document, racing to piece together comprehensible paragraphs as best I can with a day’s worth of cocktails in my bloodstream. Theo assisted by snickering at every boozy misspelling and shrugging innocently when I glared at him.

Honestly, how I even managed to write anything after the ordeal I went through aiding him in the bathroom, I’ll never know.

“You need to come closer,” he said as I hovered by the bathroom door, arm outstretched behind me, eyes squeezed closed. “Hails, c’mon. God blessed me, so I require both of my hands.”

As I scoffed at his huge ego, I also grimaced and reluctantly backed up into the bathroom toward him. The tension in the handcuffs locking us together slackened as I got close, and, as Theo unzipped his jeans, all I could think about was that my hand was being held hostage approximately three inches away from his dick. I vowed never to retell that moment to Addy.

Speaking of Addy . . . I glance around the booth, and she’s not here. Neither is Connor. Liam, however, sits on the edge of the booth and stares glumly into his drink, not quite acknowledging mine and Theo’s arrival. I wonder what’s got him so grumpy.

“Where’s Addy?” Theo asks at the same time I’m thinking it.

Evie leans in a little closer and rolls her eyes in Liam’s direction. “I think maybe they’ve had a little tiff. I texted her to see if everything’s okay, and she says she’ll be back down soon.”

Theo frowns. “That’s not a very good omen for the wedding, is it?”