Malik scoots me immediately towards an empty booth. "Hey." He sits next to me. "What happened? Did you fight with Liam?"

"I don't know." I press lips together, trying hard to stay composed. Malik scowls confused as I look up at him. "He's mad at me, he's tired, and he has every reason to be. And Sam . . . She doesn't even suspect what's going on. How can't she see it, huh? Why do I wish that she sees it? I want her to see it, Malik. You were able to find out, so why can't she find out? I won't be able to say it. I can't." Panic overwhelms me.

I wish she could see what's happening without me saying a word. What a fool I am!

"Relax," Malik says softly, tugging my head towards his shoulder. I fully comply. "Forget about it for now, okay?" He pats my back.

"Mmm." I sniff, wiping my tears with the back of my hand.

"Forget everything, empty your mind, just listen to that music." Malik's voice is suddenly teasing.

I laugh. "I wish it was that easy."

"I know, right?" He laughs along. "Giving advice is so easy," he says, and I slowly begin to feel better as we keep talking.

I just give him a grateful smile, and somewhere deep inside my heart, I know all this has got to stop. I can't go on lying like this every time I get a chance to. I've got to make up my mind. It's either I'm in or out.

midnight as I pull the SUV in the parking lot. At least I was able to drive, for everyone seems wasted. Sam is lying into oblivion right on the passenger seat, totally drunk. I don't want to know how she was able to walk outside the club.

Sighing, I throw a glance at the two men in the backseat. Malik is at least in half of his faculty, and as for Liam, he's sleeping apparently. I smile bittersweetly. After our little moment in the dark, Liam made himself drunk as though getting back at me.

"Oh, we're back?" Malik utters somehow.

"Yeah, and I'm not sure how we're going to get them inside." I yawn, my eyes glued to Liam.

"Oh, he's waking up." Malik grins, seeing Liam's eyes moving slightly. "Hey, Bro, can you get up?"

"Of course I can," Liam grunts, squinting his eyes at the golden-yellow light bathing inside the car.

"Sam, we're back." I try to wake my fake blonde, whose hair is collected to the side, half-hiding her tilted face.

"Hmm," she murmurs. "Just one more round, please."

Oh God! This is going to take forever, I swear. When Sam gets wasted it's always a natural disaster, almost impossible to deal with it unless she gets sober.

"Get up," I snap. The soft approach has never worked with her. "I'm counting to three; you know what happens after that." My voice is warning.

"Not the cold water, Kiki," Sam laments, making Malik laugh loudly.

Liam scrambles out of the car without a word, and I know he's still mad. In what seems like the monument of time, Sam manages to get out of the car with the help of Malik. Although she can't walk properly, her mouth is still as active as though she's sober.

She's now singing Macarena.

"Okay, Sam, no more singing for God's sake," Malik scolds, scooting her toward the door despite her efforts to slip out of his arms several times.

"Come on, Malik, I've got a nice vocal so let me sing," she shouts ceremoniously.

A heavy breath leaves my lungs as I lock the car. "Well, Kira, the night is over," I utter, watching the shimmering night sky that always calms my nerves.

Liam's love confession hits the back of my mind, gushing my being with an overwhelming wave of mixed emotions. A smile flits on my face as I replay his voice, and my eyes shut to relish the feeling.

Damn, I need to get a grip.

Liam is on the couch when I walk inside the house. I hold my steps in a startled manner, watching him downing a bottle of water with eyes on me. My insides quiver and I wish he'd say something. But he doesn't.

"Goodnight," I utter, forcing my reluctant legs to move.

"I'm not sure what's so good about it, but I'll pretend it is," Liam replies coolly while reclining back on the couch. I narrow my eyes at him. "Go ahead, Ms. Jones. You must be having so much fun knowing this lad here . . . me . . . . is insane for you! Yeah, great! Good for you!" He sounds drunk, accusing, and I'm so dumbstruck.

"Okay, that's it!" I stride over and sit next to him. "Are you angry at me because I refused to elope with you to England?"

Because I'm now starting to doubt his reasons.

Liam bursts out laughing. "You think I'm such a baby, don't you, Kira?" He moves closer, filling the distance between us. My pulse accelerates at the hot look he gives me, biting his bottom lip. "I said I love you, and you didn't say a thing. Yes, it makes me mad. Don't you love me, Ms. Jones? Am I not your type?" he demands in a low, husky voice.

Of course you're my type, dummy. I try my best not to laugh.

"So, you're mad because of that?" I ask. Sighing, he draws himself back. "I'm sorry," I say softly while reclining back, tilting my head to face him directly.

Liam's eyes bore into mine, deeply and tensely, and I feel like he wants to touch my face, as his hand rises subtly. I watch it with anticipation, my breath ragged, but much to my disappointment, he chooses against it.

"You're so heartless." He shuts his eyes, and I can feel the sadness in him.

"I'm not heartless." I move closer, and he flies his eyes open with difficulty. "I just—"

"What?" he breathes.

"I just—" Nothing comes to mind so I stutter. "Liam, I think—" My speech is paused when his lips take mine briskly, surprising me.

"Don't talk," he commands, pulling my body secured into his arms.

Responsively, I place my hands on his shoulders and his tighten around my back and waist as our tongues swirl together in synch, oblivious of anything and anyone.

I can only feel the warmth of his body right now, as he presses me closely to his side, and the sweetness of his tongue that dominates mine wildly.

"You love my kisses but you don't love me," Liam whispers, giving me a punishment-like break.

I hate when he does this, and yet it makes me want him even more.

"You love me but you refuse to fuck me," I reply huskily, and he bursts into a fit of giggles.

Oh fuck! Am I out of my damn mind?

"What did you say, Kira?" Liam asks, and I shut my eyes from embarrassment, my head on his chest. "Do you really want me to fuck you that badly?" His voice is sexy, a pure torture.

"I do." I give him a coy look, blushing, my sex goddess sitting regal on her throne.

"I see." Liam nears his drowsy blue eyes closer to my face, a beguiling smile on his lips. My whole body is on fire, and yes I want to cross the red line. "You want to come to my room?" He keeps teasing me, nuzzling his thumb against my lips, tantalizing me softly.

Jesus! Of course I do.

"Will you let me?" I utter, feeling so high and needy.

"You know my answer, Kira," he whispers, the scotch in his breath turning me wild, heightening my insatiable desires. I want to feel him more intimately. "But must we really do it like this? As if we're having an affair?" he adds.

No, God! Why is he always right? We really need to put an end to this sleazy relationship . . . or whatever the name is.

Gulping, I say, "Well, not really, I just—"

"Ugh, drunk women are weird and scary." Malik interrupts us, making me pull back immediately. After a short silence, I hear. "Okay, my life's a mess! Do I have to witness this as well?" He's now staring at us.

"You startled me," I say while getting up, and he laughs loudly as though he's caught a big fish in a backyard pond.

"So, should I let you two continue kissing or should I take that drunkard to his room?" he asks, referring at Liam.

Maybe . . . the former?

"He's not drunk. I'm sure he can manage," I reply tiredly. "Goodnight, Malik."

"Hmm, you've got some real deal, Professor. Do tell me everything later, okay?" Malik gives me a playful look.

"Shut up." I quickly run towards my room, grinning like a fool.

***

The morning comes in a heartbeat. I grace myself with a very long and relaxing shower. The same yellow sundress I wore when we first arrived at the ranch is what I put on afterwards. Just the memory of our first day in Montana draws my smile anew.

A little more determined to look great, I apply some makeup and style my hair into two side braids like a happy teenager. Satisfied with my look, my self-confidence at its peak for several reasons, I head straight to the kitchen.

As expected, I'm the only one awake.

"Let's see." I rummage through the fridge, questing for what to make for breakfast.

Listening to Stay by Rihanna through my mobile, I feel like I'm back to my little apartment in L.A. Music has always been my best company while doing the house chores.

"Hi, Kira," Natasha greets me a moment later, holding her head frantically.

"Hi, feeling bad?" I ask, eyes narrowed

"Worse. It's like there's a drummer residing in my head. How come you're so early and looking utterly good already?"

"Well, I didn't drink like a fish last night, remember?" I tease.

"You're playing smart, huh?"

"Could be." I stifle a laugh and she smiles faintly. "But no. I'm not quite a drinker, that's all."

"I see, and it smells delicious here." She ruffles her hair while taking a seat.

While having a few stories with Natasha, I quickly finish the breakfast ordeal. The rest of the gang gather at the breakfast table, surprised to see whatever I've made.

"You're the best, Kiki," Sam says her usual catchphrase. "I love you."

Malik adds, "Yes, professor, do you mind if I keep you for my kitchen? I promise I'll pay you well."

"No, thank you."

"I'll double whatever you're earning now." He looks expectantly at me. "No, triple? Or better yet, just name your price." He grins boyishly, and I roll my eyes.

"Just shut up and eat your soup," I hiss at him, and everyone laughs.

Well, everyone except my cowboy who has this tedious look as if he's embarrassed of something.

Is he having regrets?

"Um, are you okay?" I ask him, and perhaps my voice sounds weird as I find myself too concerned to keep my profile low.

"Yes, don't worry." Liam smiles gently.

"Don't you have something strong to recommend for some chronic hangover or something?" Malik keeps making fun of me.

"Chronic hangover?" Natasha laughs heartily, followed by the rest of the others.

"Do you need some medicine?" I ask Liam, my worry evident this time.

Sam stares at him as well, expectant of what he's going to say.

"Well . . ." He grins at me.

Don't say anything stupid, Liam Darcy, or else I'll kill you.

"No, this coffee is fine," he replies, and Malik fakes a sudden cough that I fathom right away.

I kick his foot under the table. What's wrong with these two?

"I'm sorry; I just read some funny news online." Malik makes his sleazy defense, thanks to the tablet he's holding.

"I have some Advil, in case it gets severe," Sam tells Liam.

"Thank you, Samantha," Liam answers with a tight smile, and I resume my attention back to the breakfast. "And thank you, Ms. Jones, this will surely help." He lifts his coffee mug, his eyes gleaming playfully.

I flush, I'm pretty sure it's crimson on my cheeks.

"Okay." I smile curtly.

Later around noon Natasha bids us goodbye, promising to drop by soon so that we can go sightseeing more of Miami. I second the idea right away, for that's exactly what I need.

Nothing else goes on, other than a few stories while Natasha waits for Jamal to give her a ride. We mainly talk about last night, which is still a hot topic.

"Guys, someone recorded a clip of us dancing last night, and it went viral!" Sam screams delightedly, and immediately she shows it to us.

It has indeed gone viral on YouTube.

"Oh my, have you seen that part?" Natasha laughs her heart out.

"I know, right? Look at this," Sam says excitedly, and their eyes glue on the screen. "Kiki, come and see this!" she urges, and I follow with a sigh.

That's not all, apparently, for there's another article online about Malik and Liam, that the Boss and the Brain have been spotted at the Treehouse, Miami.

But I'm glad it doesn't connect us with the two; it seems like the paparazzi wasn't so good at his job after all. Good for us.

I gradually take a seat at the sunbeds by the poolside. The Florida sun is shining mildly today as I lie down comfortably with my eyes closed.

This is what I call tranquility.

But well, perhaps it's too soon to speak as we're suddenly startled by the arrival of a wild brunette who lunges in like a fighting bull. In a quick glance, I apprehend her exotic beauty and frenzy mannerisms. She's on the phone call, her face puffed with anger.

Malik emerges from inside while muttering, "No, I can't believe this."

"Oh, you better do." The brunette lowers her phone from her ear. "Seriously, Malik? Do I have to read the gossip to realize that you're actually in Miami?" She's now smoking mad, clutching her sculpted waist.

She's pretty much gorgeous.

"Don't make a scene here," Malik urges in a whisper, holding her arm. "Please, let's get out of here and talk."

Interesting.

"Fine, my car is outside. Let's go!" she orders.

Malik sighs heavily before giving us an apologetic look. He buttons up his shirt and follows the lady who may be a Latina, judging from her accent, long dark hair, and the tone of her olive skin.