The city lights of downtown Atlanta flickered like seductive winks through the tinted windows of La Quinta Lounge. The music was soft and sultry—the kind that made you feel like sinning without ever touching anyone. It was the kind of place you came to forget the rules and remember your cravings.
Liam wasn't planning to be here. Not tonight. Not after the firestorm in his chest that Mia ignited every time her name crossed his thoughts. But fate, or something darker, always had a way of twisting things. He just wanted a drink. Just one. To breathe.
Then he saw her.
Mia.
Dressed in a wine-red gown that made his throat tighten and his thoughts spiral. She hadn't seen him yet. She was laughing softly at something the bartender said, her hand tucked beneath her chin like she was trying to hold her heart from falling out.
God. She was beautiful.
He didn't think. He walked.
"Mia."
She turned. Her eyes widened, surprised, then softened into something unreadable.
"Liam? What are you doing here?"
"I should ask you the same."
A pause. A flicker of something dangerous passed between them.
"Just needed to clear my head," she said, sipping from a half-full glass of strawberry mojito.
He nodded and gestured toward the stool next to her. "Mind if I join you?"
Mia hesitated, her lips slightly parted. Then she nodded.
"It's just drinks. Nothing more," she said.
Liam sat. The bartender came back, and he ordered a whiskey. Neat. He didn't need distractions tonight.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, their bodies close but words carefully measured.
"Austin's lucky," Liam said finally, eyes on the drink in his hand. "You're... different."
"Different how?"
He turned to her, his eyes flickering with something deeper.
"You make quiet feel like music."
She blinked. Her breath caught in her throat.
"You always this poetic when you're tipsy?"
"I haven't even sipped it yet."
They both smiled, but it was loaded. Charged. The kind of smile that curled like smoke into dangerous places.
"I know this is wrong, Liam. You're his best friend."
"I know. But that doesn't make how I feel any less real."
Mia turned her face away, struggling to breathe past the weight of honesty in the air. Liam studied her features like a man memorizing something he knew he could never have again.
"You ever look at someone and just... know? Like they were written in your blood before you ever met them?"
Mia didn't answer. Her silence screamed louder than any word could.
"Liam, please. Don't do this."
"Do what? Be honest? Want what I can't have?"
She stared at him. Her eyes were glassy now, the corners rimmed with hesitation and heat.
"You don't know me."
"Then let me."
His fingers brushed her hand—a subtle touch, enough to send lightning down her spine. She didn't pull away immediately. And when she did, it was like detaching from a current.
"We can't. This isn't some forbidden fairytale. This is real."
"Exactly," he said, voice low. "And real things burn."
She stood up abruptly, like if she stayed another second she'd burst into flames.
"I have to go."
He didn't stop her. He just watched. As she walked away, her heels clicked like a countdown. Like a warning.
And when the door closed behind her, the room lost its music.
Liam sat there for a while, replaying the moment over and over. Every glance. Every almost-touch. He could still smell her perfume clinging to his shirt. It was maddening.
He pulled out his phone and scrolled. His head was a mess, and right now, clarity looked like chaos.
Zara.
He clicked her number.
She picked up after one ring.
"Well, well, well... Look who finally remembered I exist," her voice dripped with flirtation.
"Where are you?"
"Why? You miss me?"
He didn't answer. She giggled.
"I'm at home. Alone. Dying of boredom."
"Send me your address."
"Hmm... that tone. Are you coming to play rough again, Liam?"
"Zara. Address. Now."
The message came through seconds later. Liam downed the rest of his whiskey, tossed some bills on the counter, and left.
LIAM'S ARRIVAL AT ZARA'S APARTMENT
Zara lived in a penthouse suite that overlooked the city like a queen bored of her kingdom. When she opened the door, she was wearing nothing but a silk robe and mischief in her eyes.
"Damn, I thought you'd ghosted me."
"I needed a distraction."
"I can be more than that, you know."
He didn't answer. Just stepped in, shut the door, and pushed her gently against it. Their lips met in a storm of hunger and confusion.
Zara moaned into his mouth, pulling him closer. "God, Liam. I've been dreaming about this."
His hands were in her hair, down her thighs, gripping her like she was the only thing keeping him from unraveling.
They didn't make it to the bedroom.
She was begging beneath him before he even stripped off his shirt.
"Harder... Liam... please... urghhh..."
"You always give it to me the way I want it"
"Please Cum inside me... Urghhh.... Harder baby... Liam I love the way you handle like I'm your toy...fuck...."
He didn't talk. He didn't smile. This wasn't joy. This wasn't a connection. It was punishment.
He was thinking of Mia.
Her lips.
Her eyes.
The way her breath hitched when he leaned too close.
Zara didn't notice. Or maybe she didn't care. She just kept moaning.
"Fuck... Urghh...Liam... you're gonna ruin me."
She scratched his back. Wrapped her legs around him like chains. But none of it reached his heart.
When they were done, Zara lay there, breathless and smiling. She brushed a finger down his chest.
"Round two, or are you already thinking about that other girl again?"
He froze.
"I'm not stupid, Liam. You looked at me the same way you probably looked at her... until you closed your eyes."
He sat up. Rubbed his face. Guilt wasn't new to him, but it felt heavier now.
"This was a mistake."
"No," Zara said, reaching for him, "It was a damn good mistake. One I want to keep making."
He shook his head, already reaching for his clothes.
"You don't want me. Not really."
"Bullshit. You just don't want anyone but her. That best friend's girl you can't stop fantasizing about."
Liam froze at the doorway. He turned slowly, meeting her eyes.
"You don't know anything about it."
"I know that look. I know what it means to want what you can't have. But be careful, Liam. You play with fire too long, it stops burning and starts consuming."
He left.
How did Zara know?
Her voice echoed in his head all the way home.
Later that night, Liam sat alone on his balcony, whiskey in hand. The wind was cold against his bare chest. The city below kept living. Kept moving. But inside him, there was chaos.
Mia.
He remembered the way she looked at him. Like she saw something in him no one else ever did. But she belonged to Austin. His best friend. His brother. His family.
What the fuck was he doing?
And why did it feel like he was already too far gone to stop?