Page 18

“I would say I’ve been good. I haven’t been ill or had any major life events since.”

It might not be the right thing to do, but with the relief of how things turned out in the last half hour, I can’t stop myself from snorting.

“That’s a good thing,” Liam explains to me in the most endearing way.

“I know, I just laughed because I was reminded again of how much I like the way you express things.”

“You do?” he mutters the question. I turn as we keep walking and see he’s frowning into the distance.

“I really do,” I assure him. “And no major life events is definitely a good thing,” I point out.

“How about you?” he asks in a way that sounds just robotic enough to tell me he’s probably asking because someone has taught him he has to, but I don’t mind .

That doesn’t necessarily mean he doesn’t care.

“I’ve been busy since we got back from Malibu, getting back into the routine with the two galleries and all.”

“That’s also good, right?” he checks as we turn the corner.

“It is,” I confirm. And then just to make sure, I ask. “This is the way to the restaurant, right?”

He smiles just a little and it feels like a huge triumph.

“Yes, it’s really close, in fact...” He slows down as his words trail away, and then motions just in front of us. Only one building down, there’s a little sign that reads Rossi’s Italian Cuisine.

I think quickly and get my phone out to take a picture of it and send it off to Mike.

Carter

Have you been to this place?

He’s probably at home with his two big dogs while Theo closes the bakery, or maybe he’s just getting home, so I don’t expect him to answer right away, even if the message is related to food.

Liam’s quizzical frown has me explaining.

“Remember how I told you Mike loves food?” He nods. “I just sent him a picture of the sign and asked if he’s been here. If he has, there’s a good chance he’ll recommend a dish.”

Liam’s face relaxes just slightly, and with his eyes less narrowed I get a full view of his brilliant blue irises. They really are striking.

But then we’re walking over to the smiling woman who seems to be waiting for us. “Liam, right?” she asks us .

Liam nods, unbothered by her knowledge.

And okay, I’m not exactly bothered , but I am curious as hell.

“We have a table for you at the back, is that okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” he tells her again in that almost robotic way.

Once we’re seated and have menus in our hands—which Liam puts down right away—I ask.

“Did you make a reservation or something?”

“No. We come here a lot as a family because this is Mom’s favorite place for some heart-fattening pasta. At least that’s how she puts it,” he explains, and I chuckle just from imagining her saying that.

I keep forgetting that Liam’s Mom is the Samantha Sawyer and his dad the Ed Trent because they’ve acted so normal around me, but whenever I remember, the slight panic of adoration is less stark every time.

“And you ask for this table every time?” I wonder.

“Yes.” He nods once. “It’s away from most of the noise of the restaurant.”

“All right, then. Now I see I didn’t need to send Mike any messages. You tell me the best thing here and I’ll order it.”

Liam’s shoulders drop and his fingers expand and then relax on top of the tablecloth.

“We always order lasagna, and that’s what I was going to do and ask them to package whatever’s left so I can take it home. If I don’t then my brothers will whine forever about it.”

That tenderness that seems to be blooming inside me more often around Liam comes out in full force, and I have to force myself to keep talking and not just smile at him like a sap .

“Let’s do it then, but maybe we can order two. I could eat a cow right about now.”

Liam snorts, making me pause completely. That was a real snort. Inelegant, unplanned, and totally genuine. “That’s a good idea,” he agrees and calls the waiter over. He asks for water and I do the same.

I’m about to ask if he’s sure he doesn’t want anything else to drink when a whiny sort of voice—grating as hell—has me looking over Liam’s shoulder.

“Well, well, well, isn’t this cozy?”

The man—slight, not very tall, with blond hair that’s clearly professionally done—has an ugly sneer on his face as he rounds the table and stands right by Liam. Looking down at him, his sneer turns into... well, that’s one evil-looking smile if I’ve ever seen one.

“You’re still coming in here every week, I see,” he says.

Liam flinches away and doesn’t look up, his gaze firmly locked on the salt and pepper in the middle of our table. His face is impassive, but his shoulders are almost up to his ears.

I don’t know who this motherfucker is, but he’s clearly not someone Liam wants near him, so I start out hostile. I don’t have anything to lose.

“Who are you?” I ask, forcing my tone into something emotionless.

“I’m Robin Graves,” he says with an air of superiority that has no basis as far as I’m concerned.

At the same time Liam mutters, “Dirk Redding.”

I’m instantly confused and frown up at the stranger with apparently two names .

“Robin is my stage name,” he explains like he’s doing me a great favor.

“You can choose those, right?”

“Yes,” Liam whispers.

I look Robin up and down and bring out all the hilarity I’m feeling to my face.

“And you chose Robin Graves?” I bark out a laugh. “You wanted to make your necrophilia known to the world?” Another snort leaves me, and I’m not even faking or forcing anything. This shit is actually ridiculous.

Robin’s scrunched up face starts to turn red instantly, and I am loving it .

“Is this how you spend your dates?” he asks as he turns back to Liam. “Still not able to bring anything remotely interesting, so your date has to find amusement in the most ridiculous thoughts?”

“You’re right,” I pipe up, really not liking his attention on Liam, and not commenting at all on the whole date thing. He doesn’t need to know we’re only friends. “Your name is ridiculous, Dick.”

“It’s Dirk,” he snaps at me, and I smirk up at him.

“That’s what I said,” I tell him mildly, still thinking about what this implies in the back of my head.

I didn’t know Liam was queer, but Dirk, the dick who robs graves, clearly does.

He turns to Liam again, and I bite down hard on my molars at the mock sympathy on his face.

“It took you a long time to get over me, huh?” he says, so patronizingly that I let my instincts take over .

“We’ve actually been together for almost two years.” My voice sounds so damn calm. Inside me it’s like one of those videos from Animal Kingdom , where you can see the cheetah crawling toward the hoard of antelopes slowly, stealthily, right before it jumps out and sinks its teeth into their throat.

The image of Dirk being eaten by a cheetah flashes through my mind, and I don’t mind it one bit.

Seems I have a vicious side.

It’s only then it occurs to me that they could’ve been together back then, two years ago, and fuck, I hope they weren’t. Liam’s completely emotionless face tells me nothing, but at least I get Dirk’s attention away from him.

“I can empathize with your plight,” he says, his voice once again dripping with fake empathy. “I wasted a whole decade putting up with him only to get nothing in return.”

I’m up and shoving him away before I can even think about it.

“Listen you slithering wanker, you better walk the fuck away while you still can.”

I enjoy, very much, the way he has to tilt his head way back to keep looking me in the eye. His eyes are full of fury, but like he’s a damn psycho his whole demeanor changes instantly, and he takes a step back and looks at Liam around my arm.

“I hear you’ll be going to the Mayor’s Ball next week.” His smile right then is the same as one of those ugly little lizards. “See you there,” he sing-songs, and even waves his little fingers at Liam, who hasn’t looked up since Dick the grave robber first spoke .

I watch him walk away and sit back in my chair as he walks out of the restaurant alone.

Only when he’s completely out of sight do I turn back to look at Liam, who’s just finishing putting on his earbuds.

I let out a sigh, knowing Liam needs time and music to destress and decompress. I feel like I might need that too. The waiter comes over and pours water for both of us, then leaves without saying a word.

Fucking hell, were they really together for a whole bloody decade?

How?

Seriously, how in the hell is that even possible?

Liam is so fucking nice and that asshole is anything but.

Another sigh leaves me, because I don’t know what the hell I was thinking and what I just got myself into.

Is this what happens when people try to make new friends?

Is this Karma for wanting one friend who isn’t all loved up?

I can’t know how much I shit the bed until Liam feels safe enough to talk to me.

If he ever does . . .

Thinking about what I did, what I said, it would be logical I suppose, for him to be right pissed at me. I wouldn’t blame him.

He has his eyes closed now, and when I look closely enough I see his eyes moving behind his eyelids.

What does he need?

Besides music, I mean.

He’d want me to be straightforward, right? To tell him the truth and explain why I reacted the way I did.

Because I wanted to protect him .

I have no fucking clue if Liam is even single. I guess he is, because he went alone to CJ’s party and because he was alone at family dinner the day London and I flew in, but the possibility is still there.

But because I don’t know, and I didn’t want the royal Dick to think Liam had been pining for him—whether he has been or not—I jumped the gun and now I have to deal with it.

Looking at Liam now, I promise myself that whatever happens next is his choice.

Whatever that asshole does or says, I won’t lose control again, and I’ll just do what Liam wants.

With that in mind, I get an idea and pull my phone out.

There’s a message notification, and I bet it’s Mike getting back to me, but I ignore it and go to my notes app.