Mandy felt her sanity teetering on the edge, fraying under the double assault of anger and humiliation.
She shoved hard at Liam, her fists pounding against his chest. “Let me go! What the hell do you want from me?”
But Liam didn’t budge. He caught her flailing hands in one of his, pinning her firmly against the partition wall.
In the cramped stall, their breaths mingled, the air thick with a tension that felt dangerously close to something else.
“What do I want?” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Come on, Mandy. Don’t tell me you don’t know. What’s this, huh? You use me for a night, then toss me aside like nothing happened? What am I to you?”
His breath was hot against her ear, sending a shiver down Mandy’s spine and leaving her legs weak.
Her cheeks burned. “Last night was a mistake, okay? Can’t we just pretend it never happened?”
He gave a bitter laugh, his eyes dark with possessiveness. “So you get what you want, then just walk away? And you call that a mistake?”
“Mandy, do I look like someone who just shrugs and moves on after being used?”
She had no comeback; for a moment, all she could do was stare at him, speechless.
The truth was, last night, she’d insisted on drinking too much. She’d been the one clinging to him, making a scene.
Most of it was a blur, lost in the haze of alcohol, but one memory stood out in excruciating detail: her straddling him on the bed, completely unrestrained. The image was so vivid, it made her want to slap herself.
God, no—she couldn’t think about that. Every time she did, she wanted to die of embarrassment.
She really had lost her mind.
She’d been so desperate she’d even slept with a guy who was supposed to be gay.
Mandy turned her head away, unable to meet Liam’s eyes. “I... I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
Liam wasn’t buying it for a second. Last night, with the alcohol loosening her tongue, she’d confessed everything—told him outright she’d fallen for him from the start.
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