The Kiss - Part 1

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Liam's lips tasted of beer and the chilled skin did nothing to quell the heat burning in my core. I was on fire. I was in love. I was shit-faced drunk. 

If I'd been sober, I would have never kissed Liam―my best friend, the boy I grew up with, the boy who stood beside when everyone else flung insults my way. 

Liam hadn't pushed me away. He let our lips touch and our hearts connect. He had accepted me. 

Or so I thought. 

The back of my head collided with the door frame and my eyes shot open, meeting Liam's wide hazel ones. His lips were parted in shock, his arms up, palms facing me. As I realized he had pushed me away, reality came crashing down like ten tons of bricks and put a crack in my heart. 


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