I know. Genius, right?
I have so many questions, but it is very late, and I’m suddenly exhausted, so I add a second text:Goodnight. I hope we get to talk soon.
And that’s the truth.
I need to talk. I need to know why she ran, what I did to make her leave.
I drop the phone onto my chest and stare up at the ceiling, the taste of her still on my lips.
Sleep doesn’t come easily. Not when she’s back in my world.
Not when every part of me still fucking belongs to her.
10
LIAM
The blareof my alarm drags me out of a half-assed sleep. It’s somewhere under the bed, screaming like a dying animal.
I stumble up, crouch down, and fish it out, slamming it onto the nightstand to shut it off.
Christ. I need coffee.
I trudge into the kitchen and realize I need to meet Nik for breakfast in like twenty minutes.
Fuck.
So much for caffeine, I yank on a hoodie, gym shorts, and sneakers, run a hand through my hair, and head out the door.
Habit makes me scan the street before I get in my car—no Irish bastards lurking today.
Small miracles.
The diner’s half-packed when I get there, the smell of bacon and burnt coffee hitting me in the face.
I don’t expect to see Dominic already sitting with Nik in the corner booth.
Great. A two-on-one before coffee.
I hesitate for a second before walking over, trying to read their expressions.
Nik’s unreadable as always, and Dom’s watching me like he’s keeping score.
I wonder how much Nik’s told him.
I slide into the booth next to Dom, and I’m sure we’re quite a sight, three big guys jammed into a space meant for normal-sized humans.
Probably looks ridiculous from a distance.
“Morning,” I say.
The waitress appears, all smiles and sass, pad in hand.
“What’ll it be, boys?”
“Coffee,” I tell her. “Black. Strong. Lots of it.”
She grins, and I watch her eyes scan Nik, all dark-haired and sharp suit, that cool Russian composure. She spots the wedding ring on his finger and then moves her gaze to Dominic.
