Page 63 of Liam (Preston Brothers #4)

Addie

“I’m really glad I was able to stay longer,” Dayna says, haphazardly throwing a handful of clothes in her suitcase. “And I’m so proud of you for giving therapy a try. Those breakthroughs you had really seemed to have an effect.”

I sit on the edge of the bed and pick up a tank top, start folding it. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, you’re all smiley today.”

Right. Smiley from the breakthroughs. Nothing at all to do with the boy I love telling me he loves me first.

“Addie?”

“Huh?”

She practically rips the tank top from my grasp and throws it in with the rest.

“You know you can fit more in there if it’s folded.”

She glares playfully at me, making a show of dumping in dirty sneakers—no separate bag—and then closing the suitcase, zipping it only halfway. “I’m literally driving four hours home.”

I almost shiver at the imperfection, and she busts out a giggle.

“Oh, my perfect little Addie bear.”

I roll my eyes.

She sits down beside me and pushes into my side. “I gotta say, I’ve missed your smile.”

I face her, my smile full force.

Shaking her head, her grin matches mine, even when she heaves out a sigh. “It’s not the breakthroughs that’s got you smiling like that, is it?”

For the first time in a while, I feel like I am who I’m supposed to be—a nineteen-year-old girl, in love for the first time, sharing the moment with her best friend. “Liam told me he loved me last night.”

Dayna gasps, her eyes as wide as mine when I heard the words fall from his lips. “Addie.” She grips my upper arm, shakes it wildly.

The laughter that pours out of me is pure, unconstrained.

“Wait.” She stops with the shaking, but keeps her hold on my arm. “Have you guys…?”

“No,” I’m quick to answer and just as quick to turn away, hoping she doesn’t notice the blush creep up my neck.

We didn’t get to that point last night, though we got pretty damn close.

Right after he shared those three words, we kissed.

And kissed. And kissed. And it was all we did for the longest time.

But then he got on top of me, settled between my legs, bearing down every time I thrust up.

I wanted more, and so did he, and within seconds, we were naked, skin on skin, hot to the touch.

He deepened the kiss, pressed up against my entrance, and then he…

froze. Locked up. Said something about me going through a lot .

And something else about the day I’d had .

I was so crazed with desire, both physical and emotional, and unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—the physical side won out.

I threatened to smother his face between my legs.

Not my proudest moment, but it turns out I didn’t need to threaten him at all, because he willingly went… and took his fingers with him.

I don’t care to know anything about Liam’s past sexual partner, but in that moment, I felt the need to send her flowers, because that boy—his fingers, his mouth, his tongue—whoo.

By the end, I was the one who needed my face to be the smothered—into a pillow.

“Addie!” Dayna’s shaking me again, and I can’t stop giggling. “I don’t know if I should be in mom mode, or older sister mode, or girlfriend mode.”

“I just want you to be you, always.”

“Okay then,” she says, getting to her feet and holding a hand to her heart. “God, I love love.”

I break out another smile.

“Just… make sure you’re not letting that overtake the work you’re doing in therapy. I know it seems?—”

“I know,” I cut in. “I’ve already spoken to Amanda about it.

” Amanda’s my therapist, and Logan was right about her; she really is great.

She doesn’t ask idiotic questions or push me beyond my comfort zone.

She just listens, offers advice when I seek it.

Obviously, I’ve told her about Liam, and she gave the same advice as Dayna just now.

“Well, I spoke to Griffin this morning,” she says, going back to her suitcase.

She struggles to zip it closed—just like I knew she would.

“I knew your plan was to come back a couple of weeks before classes started, but we don’t want you to feel pressured to be on any kind of timeline.

If therapy is working and you have the support system with Roman and Loverboy?—”

“Loverboy?”

She laughs once. “Roman called him that once, and now it’s stuck.”

“You talked to Roman about Liam?”

She shrugs. “I talk to Roman about a lot of things.”

“Speaking of…”

“Uh-oh.”

“How did he have your number?”

“About that…” she says, and for a split second, she looks uncomfortable. Right before she hurls herself onto the bed, kicks the suitcase to the floor, and opens her arms wide for me.

I crawl across the mattress, lie on my side beside her and in the crook of her arm.

Then I wait. And wait. And wait. Usually, Griffin’s the one to have these uncomfortable conversations, but since he’s not here, she’s going to use physical affection to lessen the blow.

“Roman’s always had our numbers,” she finally says.

“He would call us occasionally, from prison, to make sure you were okay. It continued after he got out. But Griffin and I decided early to only tell him what we knew you would be comfortable with, mainly about school and softball and how you were—emotionally, to an extent. We didn’t tell him about the accident. We figured you would eventually.”

I can easily picture Roman, like a scene in the movies, in his prison clothes, waiting to use one of those metal phones hanging on a wall. “He asked you not to tell me, didn’t he?”

Dayna strokes my arm as she answers, “He said he thought it was what was best for you, and he knows you better than anyone, Addie, so we agreed to it.”

I nod slowly, my mind trying to catch up with her words. It took a lot of soul-searching for me to accept Roman’s reasons for not keeping in touch, and in the end, his motives were simple: He did it for me.

He’s done everything for me.

“He also asked our permission before inviting you here,” Dayna says. “Please don’t be mad at him, sweetheart.”

“I’m not,” I’m quick to say, a slight smile taking over. “In fact, I’m not even surprised. It’s very Roman-esque, and I kind of love him more for it, to be honest.”

Dayna shifts, and I can tell she’s trying to look at my face, so I give her what she wants.

“Besides, I know Roman.” I shrug. “He wasn’t just calling you to check in on me.

He was checking out you two. He was making sure we were a good fit, and you were taking care of me, and he must’ve really liked what he saw—or heard—because he’d only ever let me stay with people he knew would care for me better than he could.

And that’s a high praise, a huge trust , especially coming from him.

And his instincts were right.” I throw my arm over her, hug her close.

“You guys have done more for me than you’ll ever understand. And I’m sure you’ll continue to do so.”

Dayna pats my head, right over my scar. “Because we love you, Addie.”

“I know,” I say, nodding. “You’ve shown me every day that you love me, and I…

” I swallow my nerves. I used to think that saying the words out loud was some kind of curse.

That the people I’d say it to would one day leave me, just because my parents did.

Or because Roman had to. But Roman’s still here, and so are Dayna and Griffin.

“I love you, too. Both of you. So much.”

Dayna’s eyes instantly fill with tears. “Shit, Addie,” she moans, wiping at her eyes. “You got me all emotional.”

“I’m sorry,” I coo. “I’m going to call Griffin later and tell him, too. Don’t say anything.”

“Oh, he’ll cry.”

“You think?”

“Addie, there’s a reason you and Griffin get on so well. You can’t see it?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“He’s just like Roman. All stoic and full of bravado, but when it comes to people they care about, people they love , they’re giant little softies on the inside.”

I think a moment, and she’s right. She’s so right, I don’t know why I never picked up on it before.

“Now, no pressure…” Dayna says, “but have you thought about what you’re going to do with school? Because your grades are great. You can get into any state college based on that alone. Griffin’s already contacted a few coaches from other local schools and told them about you?—”

“I don’t want to play for another coach,” I murmur. “I want to play for him .”

“I know, but that’s not possible right now,” she says.

“I’ll just defer,” I say, shrugging. “I’ll find a full-time job and help with rent?—”

“No,” Dayna says, her tone firm.

I sit up slightly. “Why not? You’re not my guardians anymore.”

“So what?” she scoffs. “We’re your roommates now?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help financially. At least for a semester. I haven’t even picked a major yet, so it works out?—”

“It’s something we can discuss later,” she cuts in. “Talk to Roman about it, too. Get his advice.” Then she moans, getting up and standing at the edge of the bed. She pouts. “I have to go.”

I pout too. “I don’t want you to.”

“I know,” she sighs. “I kind of love it here. It’s so… quaint. ”

“Quaint?”

“And quiet. Calming .”

I get up, too, stand in front of her. “You should see where the Prestons live.”

“Send me pictures.” She hugs my neck. “And I know I said don’t rush back, but double your phone calls from now on, okay?”

“I promise,” I tell her, hugging her back. “Drive safe.”