“Smells good. Tacos?”
“Yeah, it was one of the things you had everything for, and it’s something I can make, so…”
“Let me help.” He started to move toward me, but I didn’t back off.
“No, no, no. You’ve done enough, Liam.” His expression shifted to surprise, offense even, and I realized almost immediately how he’d taken that. “I didn’t mean that in a negative way. I meant you’ve been helping so much that I thought this is the least I could do.”
The tension in his expression eased. “Ty, we don’t have to pretend that my coming into your life didn’t fuck it up.”
“Hey, this was going to happen one way or another, so wouldn’t you rather have the company?”
“I love the company.” He hesitated, then added, “I’m worried you’re not grasping the consequences of what’s happening. This isn’t some cabin vacation. Your life is in danger. I don’t know how long you’re going to have to be removed from your family, your job, your education. You said you were already feeling lost and confused about shit, so don’t think I don’t know that I came in here and added to all that chaos.”
“Why don’t you just let me take this at my own pace?”
Yes, I’d thought about all the things he’d mentioned, and there were aspects of it that frustrated the fuck out of me, but chaos wasn’t so bad when I got to spend it with him…when it gave me a chance to know him better. And in a way I was relieved because I actually had a goddamn excuse to not have to think about all those things that had been stressing me before…or maybe because I had something so much more concerning that I wasn’t acutely aware of them the way I usually was.
“Well, it was very thoughtful of you to make dinner,” he said, changing the subject. “But if you do need help…”
“I can handle tacos.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to do what I’m best at: eating the hell out of them.”
I laughed. “That’s the spirit.”
“You want a drink?”
My gaze went right to his crotch. “Maybe a sip.”
“I was thinking a cocktail.”
“Cock…cocktail, tomato…tom—”
“Rum and Coke, right?” he said, clearly dismissing my teasing.
“Jim Beam and water.”
“That’s whatIdrink.”
“I always have rum and Coke. Time for me to change things up a bit.”
He eyed me as though he didn’t understand what I was getting at, but then surrendered. “Jim Beam it is.” He went to the cabinet on the wall adjoining the stove and got to work on our drinks as I continued working on dinner.
When he finished mixing the cocktails, he set mine down beside me before heading to the table and sitting down, turning his chair to keep me in his view.
I took a sip, cringing at the taste, but I enjoyed knowing it was something that brought him pleasure and that he’d made it to his liking.
He ran his hand over his face and inhaled deeply.
“I don’t mean to push or anything, but I just thought about it when you were asleep. How long do you think it’ll be before we hear from your guys?”
“A few days, hopefully. But it could be weeks, depending on how hot this is. If they can get to me. If any of them are still alive.”
Weeks sounded like such a stretch of time when even the past few hours had felt so long, but there was something toxic about the way it made me feel—about the eagerness it brought me knowing that no matter what happened, I had Liam’s undivided attention for at least a few days. Now that I knew the truth about his job, would he tell me more? Would I have the opportunity to explore that part of him he’d denied me previously? The exhilaration I felt about that far outweighed my concern for my own well-being, which just assured me of my intensifying obsession with Liam McKinney.
“And if we don’t hear back from them?”
“Then we’re in far more trouble than I realize.” It was evident by how quickly he’d responded and the gravity in his tone that he meant what he said. He shook his head, as though shaking that thought from his awareness, before adding, “But let’s keep in mind that’s not likely. Let’s give them a chance to respond.”
