“Oh, God,” he finally says. “Dylan, we didn’t … ?”
“Fuck?” I offer. “No.”
“Oh, thank God,” he says.
“Am I that repulsive to you?”
“What?” he inquires.
“Nothing! So you don’t recall almost decking the living crap out of Damian?”
“Huh?”
“Yeah. Apparently the two of you were having a … rather heated conversation, and if I hadn’t intervened when I had, you’d probably be in a jail cell right about now.”
He lowers his head, and I watch as he rubs his forehead, trying to recall the moment. Then he raises his head again and looks at me.
“I don’t remember that.”
“But you remember me supposedly being an asshole? Huh, that figures,” I say.
“That’s not what I meant. I just mean that I don’t—”
“I know what you meant, Liam. Look, I took care of the situation, so let’s just forget about it, okay?”
“What situation?” he asks.
“I told you it doesn’t matter; I took care of it.”
“It matters to me,” he pushes.
I lower my coffee and then angle my eyes up at him, and I meet his gaze. “I don’t exactly know what the conversation was about because I intervened midway, but when I found you, you were about to deck the guy. Then he made a remark, you told him to go fuck himself, and then you fired him.”
“I did not!”
I glare at him with a questioning look.
“I did?”
I nod my head and finish the rest of my coffee.
“Whatexactlywas his remark?”
“Jesus, Liam can’t you just let it go?”
“No. I want to know.”
“And I told you it doesn’t matter. Why do you have to make such a big deal about this and know every single detail?”
“Because I want to know what that dipshit said.”
Unable to take much more of his pushiness, I lift myself off the couch and make my way into the kitchen.
“Dylan?” Liam calls after me, and I hear him following.
I rinse my mug under the faucet and place it on the dish rack to dry, and Liam calls out to me again.
“For fuck’s sake, Liam, he called you a fucking pussy. There! Now will you drop this and leave me alone?” I ask, stepping away from the sink and brushing past him back into the kitchen.
