Page 10 of Liam (Preston Brothers #4)

“Well, you probably should,” he replies. “You know, I didn’t even realize it until I saw that picture, but you and Roman look nothing alike.”

I crack a smile. “We have different moms.”

“Oh.” His brow dips. “I never knew that.”

“Because it was never important.” He’s right though.

Besides our dark eyes we got from our dad, Roman and I are almost opposites.

He has dark, almost black hair, and mine is on the lighter side of dull blonde.

Roman’s tall, naturally tanned, built, and athletic through genetics.

I burn to a crisp under the sun and have to work extra hard just to put on any weight.

Roman had always lived here with his mom, but I vaguely remember him visiting us a couple towns over when I was younger.

When he was around fourteen and I was four, his mom met a long-haul trucker and wanted to be with him.

She said Roman could join them, but that wasn’t really an adventure he wanted to embark on, especially since he was in high school and wanted to stay, and so our dad, my mom, and I moved here to be with him.

My parents took over the lease for their house until the contract was over, then moved to the trailer.

The trailer only had one bedroom. Roman and I slept on the floor of the living room until he quit school, got a job as a trainee mechanic, and moved into an apartment with some guys he barely knew.

The day he moved out was one of the worst days of my life.

I look up at Roman’s apartment now, noticing the light still on, and heave out a sigh.

“I like Roman,” Wyatt says out of nowhere.

I turn to him, and he shrugs, as if reading my thoughts.

“He’s always been nice to me. I was just some loser kid hanging around his baby sister. He could’ve made my life hell, even now. But he’s one of the good ones, Addie. Maybe you should cut him some slack.”

I shoulder my backpack, refusing to meet his eyes so he doesn’t see the instant tears that cloud my vision.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue today,” I tell him, opening the door.

“I’ll call you!” I don’t wait for a response before closing the door between us and practically jogging up the stairs toward Roman’s apartment.

I stop just outside the door when I hear his voice filtering through the walls.

It’s only him speaking, so he’s likely on the phone, but I can’t hear him clearly enough to make out what he’s saying.

I make sure my keys are loud when I unlock the door, so he knows I’m about to enter. The moment I open the door, Roman’s eyes meet mine. Phone held to his ear, he says, “My sister just got home. I’ll call you later.”

Barely a foot inside the apartment, I shake my head. “You don’t have to hang up.”

But he already has. He gets up from his spot on the couch, but doesn’t approach me. “Have you had dinner?”

“Yeah.”

Roman bobs his head, his eyes shifting toward the kitchen, where two brown bags sit on the counter.

“I’m sorry. Were you waiting for me?”

He shakes his head. “It’s fine.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your phone call.” I point my thumb over my shoulder. “I can come back.”

“No. I’m glad you’re here,” he rushes out. “I think—I think we need to have a talk.”

I stand, frozen, unable to comprehend what that means or where he plans to go with it.

He leans against the arm of the couch—his bed currently—and crosses his arms, then uncrosses them. “You don’t have to be here, Addie.”

My heart plummets . A knot forms in my throat, and I attempt to swallow it down, but it doesn’t work. “You… you want me to leave?”

“Not at all,” he’s quick to say, and then he closes the space between us, taking my hand and leading me to the couch.

I sit and wait for him to do the same, his entire body turned to mine.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he assures.

“But maybe I jumped the gun with this whole thing. I mean, I don’t speak to you for years, and then suddenly I think it’s okay to invite you here for the entire summer?

I don’t know what I was thinking.” He’s shaking his head, rambling, letting out all his thoughts, all at once.

“Maybe… maybe I should’ve started by visiting you, you know? ”

“Or a phone call,” I say as I blink back the tears threatening to fall. “A phone call here and there wouldn’t have hurt.”

Suddenly, I’m in his arms, and I’m a kid again, and he’s my big brother, my guider, my protector. “I’m sorry, Addie.”

For years, I’ve held on to this pain, on to so many questions I never got the answers to. I pull back, wiping at my eyes. “I wrote you letters.”

“I know. I got all of them. I read all of them.”

“Why didn’t you write back?”

Eyes red, raw from holding back his emotions, my brother shakes his head, but he doesn’t give me the answers I need.

“Why didn’t you call me when you got out?”

“I—”

“I had to find out from Wyatt!” So much pent-up hurt, years and years of it, and now we’re here, and I can’t hold it in anymore. “He called to ask me why I didn’t tell him you were out, and I didn’t even know!”

Roman covers his face, rubs at his eyes. “Jesus, Addie,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know?—”

“You didn’t know what ?” I cut in. “You didn’t know how much it would hurt to feel as if you stopped caring about me? Or stopped thinking about me? Or…” I break down, my shoulders shaking with the force, and I cry. God, do I cry. “Or that you stopped loving me?”

“ Never , Addie.”

“Then why ?” I almost yell, getting to my feet. “Was it my fault?”

“No.”

“Did you have to deal drugs so you could afford to take care of me?”

He only stares at me, right into my eyes, but he doesn’t answer, and that’s answer enough.

A sob forces its way out of my throat, and my chest collapses, closing in on itself.

I try to settle my breathing, try to calm the chaos swirling inside me.

“There were so many days. So many nights. All I wanted was to hear from you, Roman… I needed to know you were okay. I just wanted to tell you I love you. That I miss you… Why didn’t you call me? ”

He takes my hand, forces me to sit again, and I wait and wait, all while his eyes travel my face, taking in my state.

My brother isn’t one to show weakness, to show emotion, but he does it now…

“At first, it was shame,” he says finally.

“When your parents left, I made it my mission to take care of you, to give you everything you needed in life, and I failed you, Addie.”

“No, you didn’t,” I whisper, adamant.

“And then it was to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?”

He doesn’t answer. “And then after, I wanted to make sure I had my shit together before—” he cuts off there, shaking his head, his gaze distant. “I don’t know,” he sighs out. “There’s a lot that went on with your mom and dad that I hid from you.”

My mom and dad were slaves to addiction.

Drugs mainly. I didn’t realize it at the time, but when I look back…

I see it clear as day. That trailer was no place for kids .

That’s what Roman used to say, and that’s why he left.

He told me later he quit school and got a job so he could save enough money to get us both out.

It was his plan all along. He just had to implement it earlier than expected.

I hold back another onset of tears and ask, “Why hide it?”

“Because you were so young…”

“But I’m not anymore.”

“Yeah,” he says, his eyes holding mine as he echoes, “you’re not anymore.” He heaves out a sigh. “How much do you remember?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know what memories are relevant here.”

Roman stands, starts toward the kitchen. “I’m going to need a beer. You want one?”

“I don’t drink.”

“Yeah?” He opens the fridge, pulls out a beer, cracks it open, then faces me. “Well, you might want to start after this…”