He scoffs and shakes his head. I don’t get attaboys from him or good game compliments. So him taking a swing at my passer rating tonight comes as no shock, but the fact that he doesn’t keep digging in is a surprise.
He’s silent as he nods, paying no attention to Demi as if he doesn’t even remember someone is on the other side of the fence. His stare is devilish, reminding me of being on the receiving end of it as a kid. Next would typically come the lash out. Ignoring everything I did right and focusing on anything I did wrong.
“Your throws were high,” he finally says. “Guess it’s good you have tall receivers.”
And there it is.
I’m not giving him the satisfaction of a reply to that.
“I think it’s best if you leave, Dad.”
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he pivots and walks back toward the door, and I watch it close behind him as he heads back into the stadium.
And when I glance over my shoulder, Demi’s gone too.
A wave of adrenaline came over me, causing me to jump in the middle of that conversation, but I saw no other choice. A fierce, protective urge had me stomping in my Halloween slippers over to the mesh covered fence once I heard Liam’s voice and saw his father standing toe to toe with him.
I don’t throw the word hate around often. I usually think no person is actually worth that much effort, but I just witnessed first-hand the shit that Liam shared with me. And seeing it up close and personal made me sick to my stomach.
Although it was so fucking satisfying to correct him. Something I’m sure nobody ever has the balls to do.
My walk up to my apartment is quiet. Thankfully, because I’m mentally exhausted after such a long day. I can’t help but wonder if Landyn knew it was me behind the fence. I know there’s a mesh covering, but only so many people are allowed in those back parking lots, and there are only so many femaleemployees. Something I’ve been working to rectify, actually. Still, even if he would’ve seen me, it wouldn’t have stopped me from speaking up.
No one deserves to be talked down to like that. And my soft spot for Liam has only grown in the last few months—so shit like that in front of me just won’t fly.
Once I’m finally settled on the couch with three chocolate chip cookies on a paper towel and my Netflix page loading, there’s a soft knock on the door.
When I look through the peep hole, Liam’s standing on the opposite side of the hallway against the wall. His head tilting back against the wall, eyes closed and both hands in the pockets of gray sweatpants.
“It’s Liam,” he roughly states. Although, it’s a low tone, ragged even.
I pull open the door, noticing he isn’t wearing his signature smile. There’s no witty joke spilling from his lips or smirk covering his mouth.
“Hey, are you okay?” I ask.
He walks toward my door, stopping right at the threshold.
“You didn’t have to do that tonight.” His hazel eyes are blasting with more blue right now. “Thank you. I’m sorry if that jeopardizes anything for you.”
“Come in,” I say, taking his hand and pulling him into my apartment. “You don’t have to thank me.” We walk toward the couch, and I take a seat, moving my cookies from the cushion to the table. “And don’t apologize. I made the choice to say something to him.”
He nods, looking around my apartment. I notice him cataloging all the books on the floor against the wall and he smiles briefly.
“I wasn’t expecting him to be out there, but I probably should’ve known,” he says with a shake of his head. “What’s withall the books on the floor?” His wave gestures to my mountain next to the television.
Liam takes a few steps, and I memorize his movements across my floor. The way he swiftly flows from one area to another.
“Well, I need another bookshelf.” I stand, matching his body language as his hands land on his hips.
He glances down at me, bright eyes and takes a step closer, leaning down just a hair as his hand cups my neck.
“Want me to build you one?” he whispers against my lips, and I feel my insides begin to quiver.
“You have no idea how hot that just made you,” I joke.
He brushes his lips against mine smoothly. It’s soft. Cautious almost.
Kissing is something we’ve been doing in the heat of the moment or after some intense banter, rarely has he kissed me during a simple conversation before.
