Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“You ignored my emails,” a voice said from behind me. I whipped around to see Liam casually leaning in the doorway to my office, his arms crossed. The leather jacket shined under the light, and on his wrist I could see the colorful end of a tattoo peeking out.
For fuck’s sake, he was even sexier than he’d been ten years ago. My brain was in overdrive fighting not to admit it. Liam had filled out a little more, and there was a self-assuredness to his expression that he’d never had in the past. He wasn’t slouched or curling into himself like he used to do. He’d always been so lost, but right now… right now he looked confident.
Or at least like he was doing a damn good job of pretending to be confident.
I couldn’t keep my eyes from traitorously roaming over his body while my heart worked its way slowly up my throat.
“You can’t be back here,” I said. “Employees only.”
“You ignored my phone calls, too,” Liam said.
“I could technically call the police on your right now—”
“And rely on somebody else to solve your problems? Not the Red I know.”
“Knew,” I said, fixing him with a hard stare. “You don’t know me at all, now, Liam.”
His eyes skated over my body, looking me up and down. “I know you’re not going to call the police on me.”
I stood up, pulling in a deep breath, and turned to the stack of bills I had piled up on one corner of my desk. I started opening each one and tossing the envelopes into the recycling bin under my desk.
I could feel Liam’s eyes on me as I worked through the pile, but I refused to look up at him.
“You look good, Red,” he finally said, his voice sincere.
My skin prickled, and suddenly I felt hot. “I look like I’m in the middle of work, and I don’t need to be bothered.”
“Looks like a lot of mail, do you need a hand?”
I looked up at him. “I’ve run this bar for ten years on my own, I’m pretty sure I can handle a stack of mail without your help.”
The words were supposed to come out sounding like fuck you, but really they came out sounding more sad than anything.
“I’m sorry,” Liam said, actually sounding genuine. I watched him, swallowing hard, wishing he didn’t look so fucking gorgeous as he leaned in the doorway. Wishing I didn’t notice the smooth skin of his collarbone peeking out from under the jacket.
Liam’s body had always fit with mine better than anyone’s ever had. Sex with him had felt deeper than other sex, somehow, like we were giving pieces of ourselves to each other each time.
He was also more direct, more real than most people I’d ever met. People had been telling me my whole life that I was “intimidating,” probably just because I worked out a lot and enjoyed dressing like an Old West cowboy, but Liam never seemed affected by that. He wasn’t afraid of me. He always wanted to fucking play.
He relaxed a little in the doorway, uncrossing his arms. “I just want to talk,” he said.
“You never just want to talk,” I told him, turning back to my mail. I opened the third bill from a gourmet food supplier that my cook, Perry, was fond of. The price tag made me cringe.
“Two hundred dollars for a case of blood oranges?” I muttered.
“Jeez,” Liam said. “Maybe porn was the wrong call for me. I should have been selling oranges all this time.”
I snorted a laugh, despite myself, but finally it turned into a sigh. “I can’t talk right now. I mean it.”
“I promise,” Liam said. “Just five minutes.”
“You’ve already been back here for a good chunk of that five,” I muttered, tossing another bill on the mounting stack. “You better start talking really quickly. Chipmunks style.”
To my surprise, Liam laughed. “God, I missed you.”
I clenched my teeth. “Don’t say that,” I told him.
“Even though it’s true?”
“Just don’t, Liam.”
A memory of the first time we met flashed through my head. I had been a bartender at a shitty bar in LA and he was just another customer. He was cocky and gorgeous, and he’d been the first person to ever tell me I was pouring beers all wrong. I told him off, but inside I knew he was completely right.
He’d stayed at the bar all night, flirting with me until I was wrapped around his damn finger. After a good few drinks, he bet me twenty bucks that he could make me come in under five minutes. I rolled my eyes, but later that night, he won the stupid bet.
He had always been unafraid to challenge me, to be real with me, to work himself into every piece of my life.
And he was the king of my fucking world before everything had fallen apart.