Gone

I broke away from Liam to catch my breath, trying desperately to refrain from wiping the sweat off my forehead and making myself look incredibly unattractive. Liam didn’t seem to need to breathe, like some sort of crazy vampire creature, and his lips moved down to my chin, my neck, and then my collarbone, occasionally flicking out his tongue or grazing his teeth against my skin.

I tightened my hands on his shoulders, letting out a slow sound, and his hands wandered down to my chest. “Did you ever think,” he breathed against my pulse point, “that you’d be making out with someone in the back of your car?”

“No,” I answered honestly, which was the most intelligent answer I could come up with, since I was so caught up in the feel of his body against mine that I couldn’t think of anything coherent.

His fingers undid the buttons on my shirt with ease, slipping it off my shoulders and exposing my lacy bra before placing his lips at the top of my breast.

“Are you finally going to let me have you?” he mumbled as he reached behind me, his chest pressed right up against mine.

I arched my back into him to give him room to unclasp my bra, breathing heavily as my heart raced. God, it was actually going to happen. I was going to have sex with Liam Payne in the back of my Mustang. I may not have been a virgin, but it was my first time with Liam, and did I really want to go all the way in my backseat? Did that go against every rule of class I’d ever given myself?

Before I could decide, my bra was off, and I got lost in the feel of him again, letting out a sharp gasp as he found one of my sweet spots.



I smoothed down my hair as I pulled my clothes back on, feeling totally awkward and uncomfortable. Liam seemed annoyed as he yanked on his boxers and pants again, sitting up against the inside of the door, crossing his arms in front of his chest like an indignant child.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, rubbing the back of my neck and making direct eye contact with the leather seat. Which made me aware that there was a weird red stain that looked like nail polish on the middle seat, and for a second, I forgot about my predicament and wondered how the hell nail polish could have gotten in my car.

“Whatever,” Liam groaned, running a hand through his curls. “What, is it that you don’t want to have sex with me? If you’ve already done it, then what’s the issue?”

He sounded harsh and offended, almost like I’d destroyed his family honor, and I immediately shrank back in intimidation. I wanted to feel strong, independent, like I didn’t have to explain anything to him. But instead, I felt defensive and desperate to explain.

“I don’t know. I just don’t think I’m ready to take that step yet. And in the back of a car? Do you really think I’m that kind of girl?” I tacked on a laugh to the end of my statement, trying to lighten the mood as I re-buttoned up my shirt, but Liam still looked pissed off.

“Does it really matter where it happens?”

I swallowed and shook my head. “You know what, Liam? I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry that I waited until the last possible second to push you away. It’s not that I don’t want you or that I don’t want to see you. I just don’t want to move this quickly. Is that really that offensive to you?”

Instead of answering, he climbed out of the car and got to the front passenger seat, where he sat in seething silence.

I tried to act the same, taking my place in the driver’s seat and pulling out of abandoned parking lot where we’d gone to have a little bit of privacy. I drove normally down the street, leaning over and turning on the radio, letting a more recent Britney Spears song fill the car so the silence wasn’t so awkward.

But as we neared his host house, I felt my temper start to flare. Who was I, to walk around like a wounded puppy because he was pissed that I turned him down? It was my right as one half of the sexual encounter to stop things where I no longer felt comfortable, and I shouldn’t have felt guilty because I did so. Since when was I the kind of girl to back down from confrontation and let someone walk all over me? Just because he was attractive and funny and awesome to be around didn’t mean that he should have special privileges.

“Stop sulking,” I snapped at him, turning down the radio as I readied to make a speech. “Is sex really that important to you? That you’re going to try to guilt me into saying, ‘Forget it’ and fuck you anyway?”

“If anything, I think it’s too important for you,” Liam shot back. “We’ve been going out for over a month now, and we haven’t had sex? That’s just ridiculous.”

I pretended like his statement hadn’t hurt me, keeping my eyes on the road in front of me as I retorted, “Sex isn’t too important for me. I just don’t want to fuck you in the backseat of my car. I’ll ruin the interior. And the more you act like a dickhead, the happier I am that I didn’t give myself up to you.”

An awkward silence settled between us as I kicked myself for letting him get to me so much. I should have brushed it off, pretended that it was nothing, let him cool down. But I’d just escalated it to a full-blown fight, and there was no turning back after that.

When I parked up against the curb at his host house, I turned and said, “Look, Liam, I’m sorry, but you just-”

But he was incredibly uninterested. He just climbed out of the car, got onto the sidewalk, and sent me the dirtiest glare he could muster before slamming the door shut. I cringed at the sound, trying not to think of how much he could have hurt the car, before watching him storm away to his front porch.

“Or we could not talk about it,” I muttered to myself, sighing deeply, before snapping my car back into the street to make a three-point turn and head back to my house. Where I would have to call Manny and tell her about how everything was messed up.

But I didn’t blame myself. It was his fault for not respecting me enough to understand my decision, not mine for telling him to cool it. I had to keep reminding myself that. If roles had been reversed, and I’d been trying to do something to Liam that he wasn’t comfortable with, I’d want him to tell me. I wouldn’t want him to grin and bear it, only to hate himself and regret it later. Why was it so hard for him to understand where I was coming from?

I just had to trust that Manny would back me up on my decision and help me figure out what the best next move would be.