Ice To Meet You

Enter-Kent-ment

"You'll have to give it—us—this, some time," he almost stammers. I've caught him off guard and you know what? I don't care. I am exhausted and I just want to go back to sleep. Of course, I don't do that because when do I ever?

How can I not be happy at this statement? He wants to give us some time because he sees a future with me halleluiah!

Inner bitch is in her red lingerie smokes a cigar as she holds a dirty martini in the other hand.

"Am I in now?"

"In what?"

"In your inner circle of trust?"

He holds my face in his palms and I lean into his touch.

"Can't you see Mia?" He's acting like I am missing a dinosaur in the room. Where? What am I missing?

"See what?"

"I am here in the middle of the night ignoring work to be with you."

"It's the middle of night mate. You wouldn't be working at this time anyway."

"I don't run by time."

"You need to sleep too."

"I can sleep when I am dead."

"When was the last time you slept for a full 7 hours?" He has a remorseful smile on his face and I don't understand his aversion to sleep. I love sleeping—I think being awake is overrated. Working your ass out is hyped up load of crap. Life is meant to be enjoyed; this hustling and staying awake all night is not my cup of tea. In another life, I am pretty sure I was a cat.

"When I was a kid maybe."

"Not even after a night out with your boys?"

He giggles. "No Mia, not even then. Especially not then," he winks and fine—He's an alien—a breathtakingly gorgeous alien that looks so sexy with his hair pushed back. I love it when they fall ever so lightly on his face and cover his eyes.

Scratch that—they cover his eyes— blue M&Ms will never be the same.

"I know a way you can convince me to trust you."

"Keep talking."

"You have to sleep with me for 7 hours straight."

"What if I wake up? I can't force myself to sleep when I am not sleepy." He has a point. I hate it when he does that.

"It doesn't matter. You have to stay in bed with me."

"Am I allowed to answer emails?"

"Fuck no. Your phone has to be switched off."

"I haven't switched off my phone in the past 5 years Mia."

"How badly do you want my forgiveness?" I just want to cuddle with him and 7 hours of uninterrupted enterkentment sounds yummy.

"I can't switch off my phone because I am expecting an urgent confirmation, but I will stay in bed with you for the next 7 hours." Wow, William Kent just justified himself to me in detail without me asking 47832 questions.

How can a girl say no to this?

"Since you're giving me only half of what I want—I'll need something else too."

"Think fast Mia, what can you ask him?" Inner bitch ignites my curiosity. I have so much to ask him—did he really sell drugs to make it to Wallstreet? Who did he have a threesome with? How many women has he slept with? What was he busy with all day. Of course, none of this falls out of my lips. Instead I—being the self-destructive machoistic obnoxious excuse of a person—say this.

"Why did you take Sophia and not me to hang out with your friends?" I know—it's in the past and we weren't an official thing and blah blah blah, but it still hurts okay? He's my first pick for everything. I want to be his too.

He picks me up and I cuddle his torso as he walks us back to the bedroom. He lays me down on the bed and climbs on top of me. He keeps his head on my heart and I take it as my free rein to run my fingers in his hair. His hair is soft, black and silky.

He lifts his head and for the first time in my life it hits me, he's not that old. With the dark aura and touch me not expression he might look older but, at this moment, he looks younger than 27.

Much younger.

He has a boyish demeanor about him right now and he keeps both his palms under my head to lift my face.

"I can't take you where I take her Mia," what the fuck? Why because she is beautiful and sexy and gorgeous and I am not? He is not boyish; he is Satan incarnation himself. I move my body away from him which in turn makes him stick to me like glue.

"Mia, can we talk?" He presses his thumbs to the edges of face to keep my face steady, but I can't stop moving it. I am trying to shake it away from his hold. I don't want to be seen by him right now.

He holds my hair with one hand in a fist and pushes his tongue down my throat. I grab his hair and tug at them hard. He winces in pain and I pull them harder. He lets out a scream as he tilts his face towards the direction I am pulling his hair. I am not an angry person, but I don't regret what I just did one bit. I bet he misses Sophia right now.

"Leave my hair immediately Mia," he commands me and I open my fist. His eyes are darker, like a dirty blue and his forehead is scrunched up.

"I can't take you where I take Sophia because you are too precious to me." I am not melting. It just sounds like such a made-up thing.

"Where did you take her Liam?"

"You don't want to know."

"I wouldn't have asked otherwise."

"It's an underground club kind of thing."

"Where you have all sorts of fancy friends and I am not fancy enough for you right? Are you embarrassed by me? Is that why you won't take me?"

"Mia it's a fucking underground swingers club." Oh, wait what is that?

"What's a swingers club?"

"It's when people watch their partners have sex with other people." Like live porn? What is going on here?

"Like a threesome except one person is watching?"

"Something like that."

"So, you were watching Sophia have sex with somebody else?"

He shrugs his shoulder as if the thought disgusts him. Is he possessive over her too?

"You were having sex with another woman as Sophia watched?" The thought sends chills down my spine.

"This is a bad idea."

"No—no, I understand. I am open-minded. I am not judging you." I pause to catch my breath. It's just a bit much. "Just tell me because it can't be worse than what I am picturing." The thought of Liam with another person is like a knife cutting through my flesh and tearing my heart apart. How can people watch their significant other with another person and not die a little inside?

"You're shaking Mia," he says as he holds me snug to his chest.

"Tell me, Liam, spit it out. I can take it."

"I was with two other women as Sophia watched us."

I was wrong.

I just—I can't—he liked me—he held me that night. 

Author's Note. 

Do we still like Liam? Or are we team Nia? 

Lia or Nia guys? Do you guys have some better names of them together? 

P.S. Somebody just reached out to me on Instagram and asked me to update and that made my morning and I am so happy that I have people who want to read what I write!!!!  Are you connected to me on Instagram? Also, do we need a separate Instagram for the book updates and sneak peeks? You guys can maybe vote on certain aspects too. Let me know, love you guys so much.