“Psychology? Really?”

I laughed, and tried to look offended. “Yes, really. Why do you look so surprised?”

Liam’s eyes widened as he tried to find the words. “I just never would have guessed that about you. You don’t seem like the kind of girl who’d be interested in psychology.”

“And what kind of major do I look like I would be interested in?”

He huffed out a short laugh and shrugged. “How to show a guy you’re not interested?”

Instead of saying something to get out of the conversation, or telling him he was pushing it again, I smirked and said, “I minored in that, actually.”

“Figures.” His eyes darted to mine before he was looking at the blanket again. “So what do you want to do with your degree?”

“Nothing,” I admitted on a sigh. “I had to take a course for gen. ed., and I ended up loving it, so I majored in it. I guess in a way I’d grown up being fascinated by the way people are because of my dad.”

Liam didn’t respond, but his confused expression was enough to make me continue.

“My dad is a detective; so is Uncle Mason. I figured he would’ve mentioned something about that in the meeting he had with you and Uncle Eli.”

“No. But somehow it makes sense. Eli said that your dad was the last person I wanted to piss off. I couldn’t imagine how your dad would be worse than Mason when he looks the way he does. But if they’re both detectives, I get it.”

I smiled wryly and asked, “Would it make it even better for you to know that they used to do undercover work? Like, they lived with, and were part of, gangs.”

Liam’s face went blank for a few seconds before he started getting up. “Well, great knowing you.”

I laughed and pulled him back down, and was glad to see the amusement in his eyes and smile. My dad and uncle had scared off enough guys while I was growing up, and the fact that Liam didn’t seem to mind made him that much better. A jolt ran through my body when I realized exactly where my thoughts had gone.

It shouldn’t have mattered if the news of Dad and Uncle Mason’s job caused Liam to run or not. If anything, I should have been hoping for it to make him too scared to keep pursuing something with me. But as usual when I was in Liam’s presence, my walls were falling.

Sitting back, I cleared my throat. “Anyway, growing up with them and hearing their stories about the people they encountered must have been what started it for me. We also used to watch these shows on serial killers, and I remember always being fascinated when they interviewed them and we got to hear their reasons for doing what they did.”

“That’s a . . . morbid thing to be fascinated by.”

I laughed at the way he was looking at me—like he was concerned for my mental stability. “But like I said, I’ve never wanted to do anything with my degree. There was never anything in particular I wanted to be or do when I grew up, and that hasn’t really changed. I feel like I’m still waiting to find what I’m meant to do.”

We spent the next two hours talking about everything and nothing. And somewhere in there, we ended up moving closer and closer as we joked with each other and I told him more about myself than I’d ever intended. Thankfully, the conversation had never gotten deep. It stayed playful and had mostly been full of childhood memories and embarrassing teen and college stories.

“Here,” he said as he came back to sit on the blanket after disappearing for a couple minutes.

I straightened when I saw what was in his hand, and my eyebrows rose. “S’mores? You all make s’mores at your bonfires?”

Liam’s lips curved up, and he shook his head once. “Not usually; someone must’ve brought them, though. Do you want it or not? Because if not, I’ll take one for the team and eat it by myself.”

“No, no! I want it!” I grabbed for it when he started putting it near his own mouth, and pulled it toward my body like I was protecting the treat. “I’ve been trapped here for hours, there’s no way you’re denying me one of these.”

With a short laugh, he put his hands up in surrender, and I took my first bite of a s’more since high school.

“Oh my God,” I moaned, and licked at my lips as I handed it over to him for a bite. “Easily the best thing I’ve eaten in years.”

We passed it back and forth a couple times, and when the last bite was between my fingers, I began handing it over, then quickly brought it back and shoved it into my mouth.

“Mm, yep. Yeah, that last bite was the best part for sure,” I mumbled around the treat, and tried not to laugh at the betrayed look on his face.

“That hurt.”

“I bet it did. You gonna get over it?”

“I don’t think I can,” he replied with false hurt. “That was low, even for you.”

“Poor Liam.” I pouted for his benefit. “I’ll go make another one, and this time you can have the first and last bites.” I started to stand, but stumbled when I got caught in the part of the blanket I’d pulled over my legs as the night grew colder, and fell against Liam.

His hands immediately went up to help steady me, but the force of my fall had landed me in his arms with my chest pressed to his. Liam’s hold tightened around my waist, and instead of helping by pushing me back, he pulled me closer—and I didn’t once try to fight him.

We stared at each other for a few tense seconds, and my breathing grew heavier as I tried to tell myself that I needed to back away, but what I wanted was much louder than what I needed at that moment.

I wasn’t sure who moved first, but our mouths crashed together in a hungry kiss that was so much like our first one a year ago. My hands slid from his shoulders to his neck, and the tips of my fingers played in his hair as I moved so I was up on my knees and straddling him. His arms tightened once against my waist before dropping lower and pulling my hips toward him as he let me take control of the kiss for a moment. But like last year, it was only seconds before he was the one demanding and controlling—and not one part of me had the will to fight him on it.

I wish I could say I was having a lapse of judgment because of the beer, but I hadn’t even finished my first one. Liam had kicked down my walls. He’d had me laughing more than I had laughed in years, and as always, he’d had me forgetting why I couldn’t be with him. And with the scent of the fire mixed with the salty ocean breeze, and with my body pressed up against his, I was positive I’d been silently begging for his kiss, and was now begging for it not to end.

But it had to end. It wasn’t until he whispered my name that I was able to remember why.

“Liam,” I breathed against his mouth, and moved my hands down to plant them on his chest. Countless seconds passed as we both sat there breathing heavily, and I forced myself not to give in again. “Liam, I think it’s time I went home.”

His body hardened beneath my hands, and I knew he knew what I was saying and doing. I was stopping this before it could continue. I was pushing him back. And I was throwing up my walls again.

No words passed between us as we got ready and left, and there was only a silent good-bye as we stared at each other when he pulled up in front of my building. I fought with myself over the apology that was on the tip of my tongue, but kept it in as I opened the door and stepped out of his car. If I had voiced it, I knew my already shaky walls would quickly fall again, and I didn’t think I would have the strength to get them back up.