“This conversation is over.”
Fix winced, contrition and regret tightening the planes of his face. “Wait… I didn’t mean to…”
“I’m not interested.” Liam cut him off, hoping he didn’t sound like a liar. Hoping it came across convincing enough. “Not in fulfilling your fantasies, not in having my home invaded. We’re done.”
Fix nodded stiffly. “Okay.”
Liam told himself it wasn’t hurt flashing across that handsome face.
“Okay,” he echoed Fix shakily, turning to leave and feeling eyes on his back the entire way.
“Liam?” Fix called after him. Liam paused but didn’t turn back around. “Just do one thing for me before you go. There are business cards on Taylor’s desk. Please take one.”
“I don’t need it.” Liam drew his shoulders up to his ears.
“You don’t have to use it,” Fix said. “But…just in case.”
Liam closed his eyes for a moment, refusing to give in to the urge to turn and hide in Fix’s arms. To give in to what his heart wanted, what Fix was offering.
He gave a short nod and power walked out of Fix’s office.
He debated with himself as he headed down the hallway into the foyer, but even as he tried to convince himself not to, his hand reached out and snagged a business card from a rack with Fix’s name on it.
Taylor smiled at him knowingly. He glared before storming off.
His mind was racing and his heart was still beating way too loudly for it to be healthy as he strode home. He was pretty sure he was going to pass out or have a heart attack, which was just great.
He didn’t stop until he was safe inside his apartment, curled up in his bed and closing his eyes against the torrent of emotions inside him.
There was so much.
Fear of what he was feeling for someone he barely knew. Disappointment that he couldn’t ignore his past and give Fix a chance. Relief because that meant his walls were still holding strong and not crumbling at the first kindness someone showed him. Regret that he’d built them so strong they wouldn’t budge even when he kinda wanted them to.
He was drowning.
He felt a push against his arms and a soft ruff.
King.
He lifted his head and stretched out his arm until his dog hopped up onto his bed, squeezing in tight next to Liam and licking his tears away. He was soothing him. Calming him. Making him feel like he wasn’t alone. Liam hugged him closer, burying his face in King’s neck and breathing in deep.
“You got my back, don’t you?” he whispered, and King vocalized softly, like he was trying to whisper too. “Thank you.”
Liam pressed himself against his dog and evened out his breathing until he felt his body relax and unwind. He had learned long ago to compartmentalize and move on from things that made him anxious.
Especially those he knew he couldn’t change.
“It’s okay,” he whispered to King. “I’m good now.”
King huffed and raised his head to look at Liam as if to ask “what are we doing now?”
“How about some lunch and then we can go to the park?” Liam asked, and King, flying on the wings of his two favorite words, launched himself out of bed and rushed toward the kitchen.
Liam followed after him, pulling things out to make something to eat for them both. Did he cook for King every day? Yes. Did he care that he was spoiling him? Not even a little bit. King had lived a shit life and Liam was determined to make the rest of it as good as it could be.
Making lunch was easier than anything he’d done in a long time. His apartment was curse-free, and he realized he walked a bit easier, breathed a little freer. There was a lack of tension in his spine and he felt like he could turn corners in his own home without being ambushed by whatever random object decided it hated him that day.
It was nice.
