Shot Down

LIAM

I blink twice in shock. Did that actually happen? The last time someone rejected me was in middle school, back when I was the pimply faced kid with no swagger or charisma. Now, girls rush for me, giggling at my stupid jokes.

They don't look me in the eyes, deliver a stinging parting shot, and walk away like I'm just some random guy.

Moving through the crowd, I ignore the hands reaching for me, the girls calling my name. I stop next to her, smirking.

"You walk out of every conversation, or just the ones with me?"

"The ones that aren't worth my time."

Placing a hand over my chest, I grin. "Ouch. That almost hurt."

"Almost?" she teases.

Running my tattooed hands through my wavy blond hair, I eye her sexy hourglass shape in next to nothing.

My dick twitches. Little Liam is now semi hard, all thanks to this brunette's fiery attitude. "I'm not that easy to bruise, babe."

"Good to know. Now, if you will excuse me," she says, hurrying to make her exit. I move, blocking her path.

She raises a somewhat perfect brow. "His Majesty really doesn't know how to take no for an answer."

"You got a name?" I ask, ignoring her jab.

"Francesca," she says, tossing her hair over her shoulders.

I tilt my head, squinting my eyes. "Not buying it. Try again."

"Fine, Skylar. Are you happy now?"

"Well, Skylar, how about we drop this game and go somewhere else?"

"Oh, Liam, this isn't a game. It's me not being interested. Besides, I have better things to do."

"Why are you here then?" I ask, curious.

She gives the ginger who has clearly been listening a look. "I got dragged."

I snicker, leaning closer to her ear. "Gotta love peer pressure," I whisper.

"Don't get comfortable." She gestures between us. "This will never be a thing," she says, shoving me slightly as she slips past.

She walks over to her friend and murmurs something. The ginger glances my way before saying "whatever" to the guy next to her and kissing him goodbye.

I force myself to stay put even when every fiber of me wants to follow her, because getting humiliated in front of my friends and hot chicks wouldn't be a good look.

"Dude." Carter appears beside me, barely containing his laughter. "Did Skylar McKee just completely shut you down in front of everyone?"

"Shut up." I drain the rest of my beer and crush the cup in my fist.

"Oh my God, she did." Blake joins us, phone already out. "I got the whole thing on video." He points to his phone, smirking. "This is absolute gold, man."

"Delete that right now." I reach for his phone, but he dodges, laughing.

"Not a chance. This is going in the frat's group chat. Everyone needs to see how the great Liam Harrington was shot down by a nerdy law student in less than thirty seconds."

"I said delete the fcking video, Blake." The words come out sharper than I intend.

"Whoa, defensive much?" Carter raises his eyebrows. "What's the big deal? It's just a rejection, happens to everyone," he says before clicking the delete button on Blake's phone.

I grab a beer from a girl passing by, wink at her blushing face, and pop it open with more force than necessary. "It doesn't happen to me."

"Well, it just did." Blake grins like an idiot. "And honestly? It was beautiful. The way she looked at you and said 'you're not her type.' That was classic."

My jaw clenches so hard my teeth might crack. "You know what? Fck both of you."

I head for the back patio where it's less packed. At least out here I can breathe without inhaling someone's cheap cologne.

I lean against the railing, staring out at the pool where drunk dudes are doing cannonballs and girls in bikinis are shrieking.

"Not your type," I mutter under my breath. "What the hell does that even mean?"

"There you are." My bunkmate Marcus appears, holding two beers. He hands me one even though I already have one. "You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" I take a long drink, then drop the empty can to the floor. "It's just a nerdy girl."

Marcus leans against the railing next to me. "Except you look like someone kicked your puppy."

"I don't have a puppy."

"You know what I mean." He's quiet for a moment before adding, "She really got under your skin, didn't she?" I don't answer because he's right and we both know it.

"You want to know what I think?" Marcus asks, not waiting for my reply. "I think you're excited that she rejected you, because this will justify your obsessively chasing her."

"That's a stupid theory," I say, opening the other can and taking a sip.

"Come on, man. I have known you since freshman year. When was the last time you actually had someone tell you no.."

Before he can finish the sentence, Carter and Blake find us, still grinning like hyenas.

"We have been looking for you, our irresistible biker heir," Blake announces loudly enough for half the patio to hear.

"Blake, I swear to God, I will kill you if you yell some stupid sht."

"Relax, bro. It's all in good fun." Carter claps me on the shoulder. "Besides, you owe us fifty grand each. That was the bet, remember? Get her to go on a date within a week. You didn't even last five minutes."

"The week isn't over yet." The words come out before I can stop them. All three of them stare at me.

"Wait, what?" Blake's grin falters. "You're not seriously going to keep trying, are you?"

"Why not?" I straighten up, feeling something scorching settle in my chest. "The bet was one week. I have got six and a half days left."

"Liam, she literally told you that she isn't interested," Carter says slowly, like I'm a child. "That's pretty definitive, man."

"People change their minds." I drain my beer and set the cup on the railing. "Besides, I don't lose. You should know that by now."

Marcus watches me with an unreadable expression.

"You know what? Let's double this then." I look at each of them. "A hundred grand, each." I say with a devilish smile. They exchange quick glances.

"Dude, we were just messing with you," Carter says with obvious disbelief on his face. "You don't actually have to.."

"No, you were right. The bet was clear, get her to go on a date within a week or pay up." I pause, smiling in a creepy way. "So let's make it interesting. A hundred grand says I get Skylar McKee to go on a date with me by next Friday."

"Liam, come on." Blake actually looks concerned now. "This was just supposed to be a gag, you know we don't need your money."

"You're really going to drop three hundred grand on this?" Marcus asks quietly. "On a girl who clearly wants nothing to do with you?"

I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "Watch me, assholes." I push past them and head back inside.

In the kitchen, I pour myself a whiskey, straight, ignoring the jungle juice everyone else is drinking. The alcohol burns going down, but it doesn't help.

A blonde appears next to me, pretty in that generic way most girls at these parties are. "Want to make out?" She trails a finger down my arm.

"I'm good, thanks." I down the rest of my whiskey and pour another, the idea of sex weirdly making my skin crawl.

"Your loss, Greek god." She shrugs and moves on to Blake's teammate.

I walk outside to my bike. tonight, I got benched by Skylar McKee. But as I kick my bike to life, the engine roaring beneath me, one thing is clear. I don't know how to give up.