Page 20 of Liam (Preston Brothers #4)

Liam

Even with Dad’s constant advice to do so (based on his own experience, I assume), I don’t work on a schedule.

Sometimes, I don’t even know what day it is, let alone time.

Not that it matters. I could pre-upload and schedule our weekly Friday videos, then disappear for a month, and it wouldn’t make a difference.

My personal calendar, unlike Lincoln’s, lacks important dates, meetings, specific times, and people.

I only have one entry, once a month.

There aren’t many places outside of my home’s boundaries that I feel comfortable, but Mia’s farm is one of them.

Actually, it’s the only place. A few days a month, I take time out and head there just for a reset.

Sometimes, Mia, Leo and Benny join me, but mostly, I’m alone.

Just like I have been for the past four days.

But I’m back now. Here, in the studio. And I’m not alone. Adelaide’s here, too. And not just here, working in the back room like she usually does, but here, standing right next to me, tapping my shoulder to get my attention.

She had it the moment she walked into the room.

I remove my headphones and spin in my desk chair, facing the girl who’s crept into my thoughts far too many times while I was gone.

I left for the farm the day after our diner date.

Not date date. Just… whatever. Anyway, we haven’t seen each other since.

When I came in late this morning, she was already working, so I didn’t want to disturb her.

Or, maybe, I didn’t exactly know what to say.

“Hello” is as good as I get with small talk.

“I don’t know how to tell you this,” she starts. She’s in a dress today, olive green, tight at the top and loose at the bottom, and I don’t know why that’s important. “There’s a giant pig in your yard.”

An ungodly—and incredibly embarrassing—sound forms in my throat, and I stand quickly, head for the door. “Chicken!”

“No, a pig! ” she calls out, following me as I make my way outside.

“Where?”

She must’ve seen Chicken from the window in the back room, because she points to the rear of the house.

I hear Chicken before I see her and practically drop to my knees when I get close enough.

Hands cupped around her snout, I rub her fat face with the tips of fingers.

“Where the hell have you been?” I ask. “We were all worried sick! Thought you became someone’s breakfast.” The pig rubs her snout on my arm, and I can’t help but smile.

“Liam?”

I glance up at Adelaide, standing frozen a few feet away.

“Um… what is happening?”

“This is Chicken,” I tell her. “She won’t bite.” I motion for her to come closer, and she does. One step. Two.

“You have a pig called Chicken?”

“Long story.” It’s really not, but how we got her isn’t important.

“She has free roam of the property, but we haven’t seen her in, like, two weeks.

We thought a hunter might have…” I trail off at the thought.

“Poor Chicken…” I sniff the air. “You stink.” Then I look up at Adelaide, still standing, still unsure.

“You can pet her.” My nose scrunches at the stench. “Maybe after we wash her.”

“ We ?”

“Have you seen her?” I jerk my chin toward the pig. “It’s a two-man job.”

A slight giggle pours out of her as she shakes her head. “ I have work to do.”

“And I have an in with your boss.” I stand. “Come on.”

As far as small talk goes, pressuring Adelaide to wash a 350-pound pig probably wasn’t the best. But the fact that she’s actually doing it…

I’ll take it as a win. Even if I lied about the whole two-man job thing—a lie made obvious since she’s currently sitting on the porch steps watching me wash Chicken all on my own.

And while I may suck at small talk, Adelaide seems to have it covered enough for the both of us. “I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“Yeah.”

“It wasn’t something I did, was it?”

I pause spraying down Chicken and face her. “No. Why would you think that?”

“I thought maybe…” she trails off, shaking her head. “Never mind.”

I trigger the hose again, continue with my task, then think better of it. Stop spraying. “I’ve been away.”

“Away?”

I nod. “My sister-in-law has a farm a few hours south of here. I like to go there once a month, just for a change of scenery.”

“Right.”

“That reminds me…” I reach into my pocket, pull out the baseball fidget clicker. “I forgot to give this back to you.”

“What reminded you?”

“Huh?”

“You said that reminds me… ”

“Oh…” I look down at the toy in my hand. “I guess I used it a lot while I was gone.”

“Good,” she says, smiling wide as she stands, makes her way toward me. “Then consider it a gift.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” She takes the hose from me and starts spraying down Chicken like I had been.

“You don’t have to do that,” I tell her. “You’ll get wet, and you’re all nice-looking today.” What the fuck was that? “I meant the dress… you’re in a dress.” Kill me. I chance a peek in her direction, noting the blush that creeps from her neck, ends on her cheeks.

She shrugs. “I’ll dry.”

I remove my shirt, throw it on the porch railings, and grab the soap we use for Chicken.

“She is kind of cute,” she states.

“Right?” I lather the pig until suds form beneath my fingers.

“She’s a little rough around the edges, but the more time you spend with her, the softer she gets.

” Adelaide doesn’t respond to that, and for a long moment, neither of us says a word.

I focus on my task and not at all on the way she exists, only feet away, hose in hand, one knee slightly bent.

She has a thin gold chain around one ankle, and it’s the first time I’ve noticed it. I wonder if she’s worn it before.

“Can I ask you something?” she says, bringing me back to the present.

I snap my gaze to the pig, to my hands specifically, and clear my thoughts. “Sure…”

“I didn’t see Lincoln once while you were gone. In fact, I rarely see him in your studio. Does he not work as much as you, or…?”

“He does,” I answer quickly. He likely works more than I do. “I just work on our channel. He does everything else.”

“Define everything else ?”

“We have many people on our team—agents, PR reps, marketing firm. He takes all the meetings, works with new sponsors, travels to find new opportunities.”

I already guessed what she asks next. “But your brand is the Preston Twins . Those aren’t things you should be doing together?”

My hands slow, gaze dropping. While I was away, I thought a lot about how much of myself I want to share with Adelaide…

if it ever got to this point. A part of me knew we’d get here, and I wasn’t sure what that gnawing feeling was that always crept to my gut…

whether it was fear or excitement. “I don’t do well in those settings,” I admit, and hope she doesn’t ask me to clarify.

“And I don’t like to travel much, or like…

” I exhale—loud enough that I’m sure she hears it.

“I don’t know.” At her silence, I stand and grab the hose from her, start working on rinsing Chicken.

“I had fun the other day,” she says, moving to my side, and I can feel the tension leave my shoulders.

I half turn to her. “Yeah?”

The top of Adelaide’s head reaches halfway up my biceps, and she nods, looking up at me. “And I owe you.”

“For what?” I ask, focusing on the pig again.

“You paid for lunch.”

“It’s only right, considering I invited you.”

“So… tomorrow? My treat.”

I shake my head, still not looking at her. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

I lower my gaze to hers, raise my eyebrows. “Diner again?”

“It’ll be a surprise.”

I sigh, suddenly aware of my surroundings… and who I’m sharing it with. Unease crawls up my spine, and I attempt to push the thoughts away. “I told you I don’t like surprises.”

Her lips kick up at the corners. “But it’s a good surprise.”

I stop spraying and face her fully now, trying to read her expression. In the short time we’ve been out here, she’s somehow managed to turn my nerves to attraction, then attraction to dread, then dread to calm, and now… now that calm has turned to doubt.

The last time she had a surprise for me, I ended up in the alley behind the pet store, getting jumped by four of her friends, so?—

She cuts through my thoughts. My memories. “Listen, if you don’t want to hang out?—”

“No,” I interrupt. Then try to get my shit together. “I mean, yeah. Okay.”

“Yeah, that sounds real convincing,” she says, tearing her eyes from mine to the driveway ahead.

I stare at her profile, watching her lashes fall against her cheeks… feeling the seconds tick, tick, tick on by. An ache forms in my chest, spreads to stomach. “Adelaide.”

She doesn’t look at me when she says, “You’re the only person who uses my full name.”

Because her friends call her Addie, and I don’t know if that’s what we are yet. “Addie…”

She faces me, her eyes holding mine.

“I really want you to surprise me.”

In more ways than one.