It takes me several beats to work up the courage to look at Liam. His expression is neutral, not giving away even a hint of what he’s thinking.
“Can I drive you home?” he asks quietly after what feels like an endless stretch of silence. The simple question makes me want to burst into tears. Before I can answer, he rises from his seat, laying a few bills on the bar for Thea. He dons his coat and then reaches past me for mine, which I draped on the vacant stool next to me when I arrived. “Let’s get out of here.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Liam doesn’t say a word on the short drive back to my place. Or maybe he does and I don’t hear him over the endless chatter in my own head.
I’m disgusted with Alan for moving on so quickly, although it shouldn’t surprise me. He never did confirm how long he’d been cheating on me, but my guess would be several months at least. What pisses me off more than that is the fact his engagement will cause a resurgence of my name in the press. The entertainment show sharing our picture alongside news of the engagement proves that. Reporters will likely attempt to hunt me down for an interview or a sound bite, or better yet, a picture of me looking less than my best, which they can then sell as me appearing pathetic and dejected.
A week or so after the news of the affair broke, Natalie treated me to a day at the spa, and a photographer snapped a shot of me on my way home. I was blissed out from the treatments, so my guard was down and I didn’t see the creep lurking with a camera. If I had, I would have averted my face or ducked inside a nearby building. He managed to capture the most unflattering photo of me imaginable: my makeup-free face, which wouldn’t have been so bad, had my skin not been all red and blotchy from the various facial treatments. The papers had a blast with their headlines:Josslyn Hazelwood heartbroken, spotted crying in the streets, unable to get over Alan’s betrayal.
The passenger side door of Liam’s truck opens, startling me so badly I jerk forward, engaging the seat belt’s lock. I make a choking noise as it pushes the air from my lungs.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Liam leans into the truck, resting his hand on my arm. Over his shoulder, I see my car in the driveway and the rental house beyond. I didn’t even notice him turning off the truck or getting out. When I remain in my seat, stunned into immobility, Liam inches further into the cab, filling my senses with his musky scent and the warmth radiating from his body. My eyes drift shut and, without meaning to, I inhale deeply. Liam is so close to me I can feel when his body stiffens.
This night just gets better by the minute.
A quietclickis followed by the seat belt retracting. Liam straightens and offers me his hand. I can’t bring myself to raise my gaze to his, so I keep my eyes on his thick, calloused fingers as they close around mine. I attempt to free my hand once my feet hit the ground, but he keeps his fingers locked loosely around mine as we walk up the path toward the house.
Years of condo living means I forgot to leave the porch light on, so we’re surrounded by darkness. When we reach the front door, I use the excuse of searching for my keys, along with the lack of light to avoid eye contact. “Sorry about that back there,” I say, making a vague gesture with my free hand, encompassing both the sniffing-him-in-the-truck incident and the fact he had to usher me from The Watering Hole so I could have a mental freak-out in private.
A tiny shaft of light shines into my purse as Liam engages the flashlight on his phone. I murmur my thanks and continue rummaging for the keys. The moment I pull them free from the depths of my purse, they slip from my shaky fingers. Liam bends to retrieve them and then unlocks the door.
I blow out a loud breath. “Thank you. You’re great. I’m a mess.”
“Want to talk about it?”
His gentle tone makes my throat tighten and my eyes sting. “I-I’m not sure.” I finally meet his gaze, which is serious and searching. I should reiterate the fact I’m a mess, and suggest he leave. And yet…
I step inside the dark house and flip on the light in the entryway. I can sense Liam still standing on the other side of the threshold, waiting for me to make a decision. I turn and push the door open a little wider in invitation. He remains where he is for a beat before slowly entering the house.
Still in a daze, I kick off my boots and dump my jacket on the bench inside the door. “I’m just gonna…” I motion toward the kitchen, and Liam nods. The door closes, followed by the sound of boots being removed. A hanger screeches in the closet, and I picture him hanging up both our coats.
I’m being a crappy hostess by barely speaking to him and abandoning him in the front hall. At least I get out two glasses when I make it to the kitchen. I reach for the bottle of wine in the fridge, then realize mixing it with the martinis I had earlier would likely be a bad idea. I don’t need to add a physical hangover to my emotional one.
Liam enters the kitchen and accepts the glass of water I slide across the counter to him. He perches on one of the stools while I lean against the fridge, hoping it’ll cool my overheated skin. Head bowed, I peek at Liam through my lashes; he’s staring into his glass with a pensive look on his face.
“Go ahead,” I say.
His dark eyes meet mine. “Hmm?”
“Go ahead,” I repeat. “Say something. Ask me whatever questions are rattling around in your brain right now.”
His brows draw together as he bobs his head, returning his gaze to his water glass. “Do you have anything to eat?”
The unexpected question nearly causes me to do a spit-take as I sip my water. Uncontrollable laughter bubbles up in my throat and spills from my mouth. I sound slightly hysterical. A distant part of my brain acknowledges it’s better than breaking down in sobs. Setting my glass aside, I open the fridge and pull out the last slice of chocolate cake Mae brought me the other day. I’ve been hoarding it, but Liam deserves it after getting me out of the bar and bringing me home.
“Want to share?” he asks as I set the plate and a fork in front of him.
“Nah, I’m good.” Eating my feelings won’t help any more than attempting to drown them.
I watch as Liam takes his first bite of the cake. He closes his eyes, and his lips tip upward as he chews. I have a similar reaction every time I bite into anything Mae has made. Silence stretches between us, making me antsy. Surely he hassomethingto say about what he saw on the TV in the bar. I’d happily change the subject to a completely unrelated topic, but now it’s all I can think about. My feet move of their own accord and I start pacing the length of the counter before my brain realizes what I’m doing.
“So you’re famous.”
There it is. All the air whooshes from my lungs. Dragging in a deep breath, I stop pacing and face Liam. “Kind of? I mean, I’m not Jennifer Aniston famous, but…yeah.”
“That guy on TV was your ex? And now he’s engaged to someone else?”
