The way Liam says my name covers my body in goosebumps. It's hushed but assertive, calm but tense – it's beginning to mess with my mind. I stare into him, avoiding his question. I'm not much of a drinker, I have never been, but I don't want to say no.

"Sure," I say in a hushed tone.

Liam smiles at me before making his way through the crowd. On instinct, I cling to him, lacing my arm at the crook of his elbow. I allow him to guide me through the mob of sweaty bodies until he wiggles out of my grip to dip into the fridge.

"Here," he says, handing me a cold can of beer.

I stare at the can as he places it in my palm. I roll it over a couple of times before glancing back up at Liam, his calm eyes meeting my gaze.

"You don't drink, do you?" he asks.

"I don't," I wince with a smile and motion the beer in his direction.

"It's alright," he says, accepting the can before dipping back into the fridge again, this time, emerging with a blue tin of Pepsi.

"My favorite," I say, grabbing it from him before he offers. I meet his eyes again as my fingers brush against his and linger for a mere second. I'm so captivated by Liam's stature that I don't notice the second can of Pepsi in his other hand. "Oh, you don't have to," I start as he cracks his can open.

"I don't mind. Anyway, I should stay relatively sober, saying as I'm hosting."

His words perk my interest. "You live here?"

"Yeah, it's a whole lot better than living on campus. No shitty curfews," he says, taking a swig of his drink.

No curfew? Wow. That must be what it's like to be completely free.

We continue to examine each other. I pay close attention to his lips, watching the curve of the lower one move with each calmed breath. I've never had the urge to kiss someone, but there's something about Liam that fuels my hunger.

"Lyla," Liam asks, pulling my attention, "are you okay?"

"Yes, sorry. It's loud; I can hardly hear myself think." Lie.

"Is it too loud? We can go somewhere else."

His words halt my thoughts. Somewhere else? Who does he think I am? I want to assume that there is no ulterior motive to his words, but there's always a piece of me that doubts the intentions of attractive men. "Don't let your unknown assumptions of someone be all you see in them," Laura's words echo. I straighten my spine and lengthen my neck. "Somewhere else?" I ask, raising a brow.

"Come with me."

Liam takes my hand and guides me back through the crowd of people to the other side of the apartment. We pull up in front of a black door with a sign saying "enter at your own risk" plastered across it. I hesitate as he opens it, but the image of the stunningly beautiful upright bass catches my eye.

"Oh, my God!" I exclaim, pushing past Liam and making my way towards the instrument. "It's beautiful!"

"Don't touch it!" Liam yells, gripping my wrist tightly and bringing me back towards him. In an instant, our bodies are flush against each other; my wrist still clamped between his fingers.

"Liam, you're hurting me," my voice shakes as I meet his darkened eyes.

Liam blinks and shakes his head, letting go of my wrist. I fight the urge to grasp it in my hand to inspect the damage, especially since it's my bowing hand. But I don't. My eyes don't leave Liam's. My heart begins pounding in my chest, harder than it was just moments ago. I attempt to bring my hand to his cheek, but he dodges my touch. Instead, he gently encloses his hand around mine and guides it down the side of our bodies. He continues to stare at me without speaking.

"I'm sorry," he finally says. "Are you alright?"

"I-" I hesitate. What do I say? What can I say to him? I understand being protective over your instrument, but it's not as if I'm someone who would mistreat it. I would never do that.

"Lyla?" he pleads, wanting me to answer him.

I look away, only to have my gaze guided back in his direction by the pressure of his fingers beneath my chin. "I'm fine," I sigh.

Liam exhales a long, shaky breath, and closes his eyes. His hand moves from my chin to my jawline, holding it softly in his palm. "I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," I say, leaning into his touch slightly, "but I think I should go."

Liam retreats his hand from my face and looks at me in disbelief. "What?"

"I – I think it's best," I say, before trying to move past him.

"Lyla, wait," Liam says, holding me gently by the arm. I look into Liam's sorrowful eyes and immediately forgive him. Even though I don't want to leave, I know it's best. It's a fight I'll have to have with myself later, but for now, I need to let things lie.

"I forgive you," I whisper, "but I'm still going to go.