“I love you too, Tess.”
Chapter 17
While Tessa snores softly next to me, I gently extricate myself out of bed. Sleep isn’t going to come for me tonight. Too much shit rattling around my brain. As quietly as I can, I grab my phone and tiptoe out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind me.
It’s weird having an entire floor to myself. It may be fifteen-thousand square feet of space, but only about four-thousand feet have been renovated as a residence. The rest is empty and open. Declan said I could decide what to do with it. Maybe put in a gym, an office—the options are limitless. So much space for one person. Declan’s residence is right above me, and Rafe, Liam, and Tessa’s floor is above his. Just like at the Rossi mansion, guards are stationed everywhere. Declan promised me that there were no cameras or listening devices on my floor, other than the cameras that monitor the elevator and stairwell. It’s such a freeing feeling knowing that everything you do isn’t being monitored and recorded.
The hallway is dark, but there’s enough light coming from the kitchen and living area for me to see my way. There must be a plug-in somewhere or a vase of fresh flowers because the hall smells of roses. The scent makes me think of Rafe. On the nights I was able to sneak out of the house and meet up with him, he’d bring me one pink rose.Mi dolce rosa, he would say and tuck the thornless stem behind my ear.
My phone’s screen lights up with an incoming text from an unknown number. But I know exactly who it is. Once I had Tessa send the encrypted message, I had her route any incoming reply to my phone. She made sure no one would be able to trace it back to my new number.
Unknown: I accept.
I smile in triumph. Checkmate, asshole.
As I shuffle into the living area heading for the kitchen, a lamp clicks on, startling me.
“What are you doing in here?” I whisper-shout, keeping my voice low so I don’t disturb Tessa.
Liam is reposed on the couch, one arm behind his head. He’s also not wearing a shirt, much like Jax earlier today. My hungry eyes automatically roam his broad chest and all that delicious ink tattooed over his torso and arms. All four of the guys are covered in tats, and God help me, it’s my kryptonite.
“I’m your bodyguard, remember?” he sleepily replies, a hint of an Irish brogue popping out.
I’m still getting used to the idea of having a bodyguard. I don’t need one, naturally, as I can take care of myself, but Declan insists. And having Liam constantly around is going to be very distracting.
I toss my phone onto the other end of the couch from where Liam is and stroll in to the kitchen, taking two beers out of the small drink fridge. Twisting the caps off as I walk over to him, I hand him one and tap his leg, so he’ll make space for me to sit down. Of course, he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls me between the V of his muscular thighs, but I’m quick enough to whirl around until we’re facing one another, my feet on either side of his hips.
I look at him over the lip of my beer bottle as I swallow. His massive frame takes up the entire leather sectional. Surely, it isn’t comfortable. “You can’t sleep on my couch indefinitely.”
“Is that an invitation to your bed?” He grabs my ankle, circling it with long, scarred fingers, the simple touch feeling somehow sinful.
“No,” I reply too quickly and am rewarded with a knowing grin. “Besides, you have your own bed and your own room.”
We drink our beers in silence, the quiet hum of the refrigerator and my rapidly beating heart the only noises filling my ears.
Liam puts down his drink on the floor and tugs on my leg, bringing me closer. His thumb moves in soothing circles across the dip of my Achilles heel, those silver-gray eyes of his slowly scanning me as if he’s trying to discover answers to hidden questions. I actually have one for him.
“How does Keane know who you are?”
His eyes slice away from me for a second, almost as if he’s ashamed to tell me. There is so much I don’t know about him. From our one, brief night together, I know how he feels when he kisses me. I know every intimate detail of his body because I mapped every muscle with my tongue. I know he has a Jacob’s ladder, and how good it felt when he slid into me over and over. I know the timbre of his voice and the way his hands felt gripping my waist when we danced. But those are all physical things.
I want to get to know Liam, the man. What caused him to grab onto this brutal existence where one’s life expectancy is precarious at best? Why Keane accused him of being worse than Jax? Is his soul black like Jax’s or hardened like Keane’s? Is there softness inside of him like with Rafe? I’ve seen snippets of it, but I want to know more.
“I’m not a good man,bella.”
I put my bottle down on the coffee table. “No one in this life is.”
We’re all damaged, broken people tainted by a world that knows nothing other than blood and death. That’s why it’s so important to grab hold of the good that graces us. Cherish it. Nurture it. And never let it go.
“And you didn’t answer my question,” I remind him.
Finally, Liam meets my gaze that has been locked on to the side of his face the entire time. I find that people usually give themselves away, not with words, but with facial expressions. A tick of the mouth. A twitch of the eye. All are emotional barometers of how a person is feeling. Are they telling you the truth, or are they lying?
“Because you’re asking me a question I won’t answer. Not even for you, Andie.” His voice lowers, sounding more like an apology at the end.
It’s not like I’m going to rip open my chest and expose all my dirty secrets to him. Tell him the awful things I told the guys. I get how some truths are better never seeing the light of day.
The alcohol from the beer helps mellow me a bit, and I lean sideways into the cushions of the couch, resting my head on the top. The angle is awkward, and I have to adjust my legs.
