Page 25 of Liam (Preston Brothers #4)

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Juan is an incredible artist, as you can see, but he didn’t know what to do with the talent, so I suggested tattooing.

He got out before me, but when I was released, he was out in the parking lot waiting for me.

I didn’t ask him to be there. He just… was.

He brought me into his home, introduced me to his wife and kids, and let me stay there until I got back on my feet.

” He looks down at his arms, turning them over to reveal all of Juan’s work.

“Anyway, he’d bought all the tattoo gear while I was still inside, but he hadn’t used it yet, so I let him practice on me. ”

My smile only widens as I hear Roman speak. It answers the main question I had while we were apart: Is he okay? I’m so grateful he had his own version of Dayna and Griffin. Someone who was there for him. Someone to be the light throughout the darkness. “He sounds amazing.”

“He is. His whole family, too. They never let me spend a holiday alone.”

I pout. “I take it you still don’t see your mom often?”

Roman’s eyes drift shut, the back of his head pressing farther into the couch cushion.

“What?” I ask. “Did something happen to her?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I mean, I don’t know.” Then he sits taller, twisting to face me. “We’re all about truths, right?”

“Right…”

“Listen, you know my relationship with my mom was already rocky since she left me for a man she barely knew. I didn’t speak to her a lot then, but… when your parents left, I was so lost with what to do, so I called her for help, and… she didn’t want to.”

Every inch of muscle tightens within me.

“We spoke even less after that. Then, when I got arrested, I had one phone call and, stupidly, I wasted it on her. I begged her to be there for you. I understand you aren’t hers, but still… you’re my sister, and… anyway, we haven’t spoken since.”

“Roman…”

“Don’t you dare think any of that is your fault, Addie. Not even for a second. We were just two kids born to parents who shouldn’t have been parents at all…”

I think, in my mind, I’d always seen Roman as a pillar of strength and resilience, and maybe—maybe I missed the signs when I was younger.

Or, maybe, I wasn’t looking for them enough.

I forget he’s been through what I have, and worse , because no one was there to pick up the pieces for him like he did for me.

I look down at the tattoos on his arm again, run my thumb over the cross with intricate ivy weaved around it. “I like this one,” I tell him.

“That’s Juan’s mom’s favorite, too.”

“Can I meet him?”

“Anytime.” He pauses a beat. “Hey… this is probably horrible timing, but uh… I need to ask you something.”

I lift my eyes to his.

“Why did you lie to me?”

I tilt my head, confused. “About what?”

“The car thing?” he answers. “You said you wanted a job because you were saving for a car, but then you told me you can’t drive, so…”

I pull back, just enough to create some distance.

“Don’t pull away, Addie,” he pleads. “You can tell me.”

I know I can , but I don’t really want to.

Roman and I are the same in many ways. Harboring guilt, it turns out, is one of them.

And we’re in such a good place now. So good.

I don’t want to ruin that. But I don’t want to keep things from him either.

“I said I don’t drive. I can . I just choose not to.

I was in a pretty bad car accident,” I tell him, then—at his expression—rush out, “I’m fine.

I promise. It’s just… I had to stay in the hospital for a few weeks to monitor some injuries, and I don’t know how much the state covered, but I’m pretty sure Dayna and Griffin had to pay out of pocket for some of it.

I’d like to pay them back, especially considering how well they’ve taken care of me.

How well they’re still taking care of me, even when they don’t have to. ”

Roman’s eyes search mine, the corners of his lips pulled down at the corners.

“I’m okay,” I assure, my voice breaking. “Please don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried.” He shakes his head, offering a sad smile. “I’m amazed . After everything you’ve been through… you’re a good kid, Addie.”

“Yeah, well, I was raised by the best.”

He looks away the moment tears form in his eyes, and I move closer again, nestle into the crook of his arm. For a long moment, we sit in silence… until his phone rings. I reach for it before he can, check who’s calling, then hold it behind my back. “Who’s Heidi?”

He raises his chin, his tough-guy facade back in action. “A friend,” he deadpans, hand out, palm up, fingers waving for his phone back.

I only grip it tighter. “A friend?” I tease. I peer at the screen again, but refuse to give it to him. “One, if you’re more than friends, you’re batting way above your average. And two, friends don’t have pictures of them together as their caller ID.”

He tries to reach for the phone, but I stand, move a few steps away. “I didn’t do that. She did.”

I inspect the screen closer now that it’s out of his reach. The call is still ringing; the picture taking up the entire display. “Is she naked in this?”

“No.”

“Are you naked in this?”

“No! Give it here.”

I can’t see my face, but I’m sure Roman picks up on my shit-eating grin, right before I hit answer and put it on speaker. I don’t say a word. Roman doesn’t either. Though he looks like he might jump off the tiny balcony off of the living room any second.

“Damn, took you long enough to answer,” the smooth, feminine voice says on the other end.

“Yeah, sorry,” Roman yells, getting to his feet. I run away, giggling like the mischievous little brat I’m being. “My sister is being… a sister.”

“Hi, Addie!” Heidi calls, and I raise my eyebrows at Roman, now standing a few feet away, hands on his hips, head lowered and shaking.

“Hello, Heidi ,” I coo. “I have a very pressing question…”

Roman keeps his head down, but his eyes lift, narrow to a glare.

“How many times have you been naked with my brother?”

Roman charges for me before I can stop him, taking the phone from my grasp as I lose it in a fit of laughter.

He holds the phone to his ear as he makes his way to the balcony, then slides the door closed between us.

I’m still laughing, proud of myself. Then the door slides open again, and Roman sticks his head inside.

“Before I forget, Tom asked us over for dinner tomorrow night.”

“Tom who?”

“Papa Preston.”

“Oh.”

Oh, no …