He says it like a fact, and I don’t know what to do with it.
He shifts, muscles flexing as he lifts me effortlessly, and sets me on my feet. I feel the mess between my legs and can’t meet his eyes. I try to tug my jeans up, but he’s already kneeling, helping me, his big hands gentle as he guides my foot through the leg hole. He zips me up and buttons me like I’m something precious.
He glances at the TV. “Huh, the Scorpions won. Beckett will be stoked.”
I look, dazed, at the screen. The world had narrowed to just Liam and the heat between us, and now everything else is too bright, too loud. There’s a dark stain on the couch cushion where I’d been sitting. I want to die.
Liam takes my hand and kisses the back of it, soft. “Do you,” he pauses, pulling his own jeans up, “Do you want to spend the night? Beckett’s flying in, but he won’t get here until late. I don’t know where Pierce is, though.”
I hesitate. I want to say yes. I want to curl up in this nest of a room with him and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist, pretend that Liam isn’t Reed’s best friend who let him die, pretend my whole life is different.
But the thought of my father comes crashing in. I don’t know what he’d do if I didn’t come home. I don’t know what this means, any of it. I look back at the couch, the wet spot, the tangled blanket, the evidence of what I just did.
“I think I should go home,” I say, my voice small and unfamiliar.
Liam’s face falls, just a little, but he covers it with a smile. “You’re sure?”
I nod, hugging myself.
He grabs his phone and keys. “I’ll drive you.”
“No, it’s okay,” I say quickly. “I can call a car. I think I need,” I gesture vaguely at the door, “to be by myself for a minute.”
“Do you know how to use the app? You’ll text me when you get home?”
I nod, but my fingers are shaking as I pull up the screen. He watches, making sure I don’t mess it up.
We don’t say much as we wait for the car. Liam leans against the wall with hands behind his back like he doesn’t trust himself to not grab me and never let go.
I had always thought Pierce was the pretty one. Ten-year-old me raced after all of them, wanting to be part of who they were.
Adult me? Omega me?
That part of me wants Liam to reach out and never let go.
When the car arrives, he hugs me.
“Text me when you get home,” he says again, softer this time, and I nod into his shoulder.
I don’t want to let go, but I do.
Outside, the air is cold. I shiver, climbing into the back seat. As the car pulls away, I look back through the window. Liam stands on the porch, hands in his pockets, watching until I’m gone.
Chapter thirty-seven
BECKETT
It’stoolatetotext her, right?
I didn’t even play in the game and I’m all revved up. The flight back was only an hour. Normally, I can drop right into a nap on the plane, but I kept checking my phone. I got the normal post-game texts from Liam and Pierce. But not from Ash, and that feels profoundly wrong.
My phone is practically burning in the cup holder. I pull over and hit the hazards. The roads are nearly empty at this hour. I drum my fingers against the steering wheel.
Fuck it. It’s 3 a.m., she’s probably sleeping, and a text won’t hurt.
Beckett:
I know it’s late. I just landed and all I can think about is kissing you and telling youwe won.
