After a long minute of awkward silence, the crew turned to their pints and whiskey, chatting about their favorite stories from the ending season. Once in a while, they would belly laugh, always at someone’s expense. I scanned over the faces of the boys I’d come to love, wishing my favorite one were among them, but at the same time, relieved that he wasn’t.

Liam leaned in, tapping my nearly empty glass. “You need another, love?”

“Yes, please,” I said without hesitation. Someone else offering to buy me a drink wasn’t new—having to wait to drink until that happened took some getting used to.

Liam raised his index finger into the air, signaled to the waitress, and then held up my empty glass when she looked his way. She smiled at him, already enamored with his accent and the trademark hotshot tan line around his emerald eyes.

He leaned in, his lips grazing my ear when he spoke. He talked about where he and Jack were planning to drive to first, pretending to need traveling tips and laughing at my sarcasm. I’d just finished the drink he’d bought me, and was just beginning to feel a bit lighter when his gaze fell to my lips.

“I’ve been patiently waiting, ya know,” he said. “It’s been almost an hour. Your boy hasn’t come for you yet.”

I looked down. “Probably because I’m not his to come and claim.”

“Yeah, but he’s yours. I can see it all over the poor bastard’s face.”

I noted the pink tint of Liam’s lips against his bronzed skin. A faint echo deep inside me suggested I grab his face and pretend not to care that Tyler hadn’t come like Watts had said he would. The taste of Liam’s drink on my tongue wouldn’t be the worst distraction. The more I imagined his strong hands on my skin, the unhappier I felt. Sterling was supposed to have been my rock bottom, but Tyler had given up on me, just like I had—there was no lower feeling than that.

Just for one night I wished I could return to the pathologically selfish asshole I once was. Even drinking back-to-back Hurricanes couldn’t erase Ellie two-point-oh. Jojo was happily sloppy drunk, but guilt and an ache for Tyler consumed me. Exhaling, my back hit the hard wood of my chair as I wondered if more experienced company could have helped me lose myself. I needed someone supremely manipulative, heartless, and cruel—someone like me.

“You’re terrible at flirting,” I said, deflated.

Liam seemed surprised at my retreat, and then he closed one eye and wrinkled his nose, almost like he was in pain. “I really fucked that one up, didn’t I? Just forget I said that. Let me help. I’ll buy you another drink.”

“I’ll take it.”