“Oh-kay.” I popped my neck, side to side.
Jules’ cheeks went pink and she tucked herself against my side.
Liam glared at me. “Can I talk to you outside?” His gaze cut from me to Jules and back again. “Alone?”
What the freak?
“Oh, yeah.” I cracked both thumb knuckles. “Let’s do that.” I pressed a soft kiss to Jules’ temple. “Be right back.” Then I strode to the front door.
I could practically feel Liam breathing down my neck.
“Uhh…” Cash chuckled. “I think I’ll go referee.”
“Me too,” Theo said.
“Me three,” Bowen echoed.
“Let us know if you need help,” Ford said.
I shoved the door open and stormed onto the grass. Then I whirled on my former best friend. “Bro, what is your problem, disrespecting my wife like that?”
Liam said nothing for a couple of seconds, like he was choosing his words carefully. He glanced at Cash, Theo, and Bowen. “I need you to give us some space.”
“Nah.” My jaw tightened. “Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of them.”
“Fine,” Liam said. “If you want your dirty laundry aired in front of everyone, that’s your business.”
Cash winced.
“My dirty laundry?” I swore. “What are you talking about?”
Liam’s expression darkened even more, but there was worry in his eyes.
Yeah. He’s probably worried you’re going to beat him to a bloody pulp.
He ran his fingers over his lips as he thought. “How’d you meet Juliette?”
“They met at a modeling convention,” Theo said. “I told you that.”
“Shhh,” Liam snapped. “Y’all are allowed to listen, but this conversation is between Griffand me.”
“We met at a modeling convention,” I parroted. “Why?”
He lowered his voice as if discussing an actual threat. “How much do you know about her?”
“Enough. Why do you care?”
He said nothing. Just stared at me, expression troubled.
“Liam. Dude,” Bowen said. “Why are you being so cryptic?”
His eyes flashed to Bowen. “I have my reasons.”
“Oh.” I bristled. “So you get to interrogate me, but you don’t have to answer any questions in return.” He said nothing, so I went on. “Why do you think it’s any of your business anyway? You’ve done nothing but heckle me for the past two years.”
Again, he didn’t respond. Just watched me as if trying to pick apart my brain with the X-ray vision he didn’t have.
Okay. He was just ticking me off now. “My wife is inside, probably worrying herself sick, wondering what this is all about,” I said. “You need to either piss or get off the pot.”
