“Why?”
“What do you care?”
Zac shrugged. “Call me curious.”
“I’d rather call you Zac.”
“Oooh, deflection.” Zac smirked. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to sound like your mother. Haven’t lost it, have you?”
The thought of losing the plain white-gold band he’d worn for more than a decade made Liam’s blood run cold, despite the steamy heat of the shower. “No, no, nothing like that. I took it off to come here.”
“Why? Didn’t want to wear it to spend the night with a whore?”
“Whore? When have I ever called you a whore?” Liam didn’t know why it mattered, whore was just a word like any other, but Zac’s flat tone rankled him. “You’re not a whore unless you want to be. You’re Zac, regardless of how you see me.”
“You deserve better than this.”
“I decide what I deserve.” Liam shut off the shower and got out, not looking to see if Zac followed, because he couldn’t bring himself to admit that Zac was right about the ring. He had taken it off to spend the night with him, like locking it away in a box would make any of this right. Like it even fucking mattered.
Liam walked nude to the bedroom and scanned the floor for his clothes before he remembered they were still in the bathroom.
“I’m sorry.”
He glanced over his shoulder. Zac was hovering in the doorway, holding Liam’s clothes. “What are you sorry for?”
“Dunno. You don’t seem very happy.”
“Neither do you.”
Zac grinned sardonically. “That better?”
“No.” The cynical smile put years on Zac and echoed the apathy in Liam’s heart. “Are you hungry?”
“Me?” Zac blinked. “Thought you went out for dinner?”
“No, I went out to get dinner. It’s in the kitchen.”
“Oh.” Zac chewed on his bottom lip.
Liam took pity on him. It was impossible to guess how long Zac had been hooking, but it was obvious he wasn’t used to clients—johns—or perhaps even anyone, giving a shit if he ate his dinner. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
They both pulled on jeans and went to the kitchen. Liam retrieved the food from the stove and laid it on the counter. Zac looked perplexed. “What is all this?”
“Thai. Never had it?”
“Nope. Is it like the curry from Jasmine House?”
Liam chuckled, picturing the dodgy Chinese takeaway on King’s Lynn’s high street that served dog food and rice when the pubs kicked out. “Not even close. Do you like spicy food?”
“I get chilli sauce on a kebab?”
Zac’s bemusement was too endearing. Liam covered the fond smile threatening to break out by opening the cutlery drawer, except it wasn’t the cutlery drawer, and it took him three tries to find the right one.
“I thought you lived here?”
“Not if I can help it.” Liam finally found some forks and drew the nearest container towards them. “I told you. I only come here for work. Here, try this.”
Zac peered into the container. “What is it?”
