He gazed at me, unconvinced. I sighed.
“Do you want slippers?” I asked.
He nodded a little.
“Just say so, then,” I grunted, reaching into the closet. I tossed him a pair of comfortable plaid slippers. His feet drowned in them. “Little big, huh?”
He smiled. “Just a bit. Thanks.”
“Bathroom’s down the hall. Kitchen’s right over here. Take anything in the fridge you want.”
“Okay,” he said, but I wasn’t convinced he would actually do it.
“Look,” I grunted, facing him. “Don’t be a stranger, alright?”
“How can I not be?” he said with a half-grin. “We barely know each other.”
I sighed. “Look, kid, I – ”
Liam’s face fell. “I’m not a kid.” I imagined the hairs on the back of his neck rose in irritation, just like a bear.
“How old are you?” I asked, crossing my arms.
“Twenty-two.”
That took me by surprise. “Wouldn’t have guessed that much,” I admitted.
Liam smirked a little as he teased me. “What are you, like forty?”
I cocked a brow. “Twenty-six.”
Liam’s amber eyes sparkled. “If that’s what you want to keep telling people…” he said. “I’ll go along with it.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, yeah.” I gestured to the couch for him to take a seat. My apartment wasn’t big, but it was functional. It kept tidy since I spent as little time there as I could, mostly staying out late and working long shifts at the station.
As Liam sat down, I rummaged through the fridge. I could tell he was the type not to ask for water even if he was dehydrating, so I had to be the one to offer first. “Want something to drink? Beer?”
“No, thanks,” he said.
I sighed. He wasn’t going to make this easy. “Water? Juice? Champagne?”
“You don’t look like the champagne type,” Liam said.
“Why? Because I’m big and burly?” I asked, leaning on the counter. His eyes flickered to my bicep as it strained against the tight-fitting fabric of my shirt in this position.
“Maybe.”
I smirked and fisted a bottle of champagne out of the fridge by the neck, raising it where he could see. “Funny you’d stereotype like that when you probably get a good deal of it yourself.”
The warm expression on Liam’s face turned cold. He looked at the floor.
“Hey,” I said. “Come on. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No, you’re right,” he said, shaking his head. “I should have known better.”
I felt my ears grow hot with shame and embarrassment.Damnit, Victor, what the hell are you picking on this guy for?
“Sorry,” I grunted, looking anywhere but at him. “I know it must be a sensitive topic.”
