Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I tried not to think about that.
I shoved the pile of bills into the overstuffed organizer on my desk and turned to walk out of the office. I brushed past Liam in the doorway, my body momentarily right up against his. He smelled impossibly good. Leather and a hint of some woodsy cologne, mostly washed away by the rain outside.
“Sam?” I called down the hallway. “A little help?”
Sam’s head peeked around the corner, and he gave me a half-hearted shrug. “I tried! I can’t tell Liam Hardy what to do!”
Unfortunately, he was right. I was well aware that Sam wasn’t going to be able to wrangle Liam. Nobody really could.
I furrowed my brow, turning back into my office. Liam was now sitting on my desk chair, leaning back like he owned the place. Like some sort of smoldering, dark-haired, rebel porn star prince. He had a tendency to look regal like that no matter what he was doing.
He was still every bit as pushy as I remembered. The difference was that I wasn’t weak anymore. I’d spent ten years building up a thick skin for a reason.
“The whole cowboy thing is really going well for you,” he said, nodding at the western movie posters I had framed on my walls. “You always looked good in those boots. Better out of them, of course.”
My skin heated. I could remember times when Liam had requested that I fuck him wearing nothing but my cowboy boots and hat. But that was a long time ago.
“What do you want, Liam?” I asked. I could feel him trying to crack my defenses. It was like watching someone hold a match right next to a pile of dry paper, inching it closer and closer.
Liam didn’t know that I was fireproof now, though. There was nothing he could do.
“You know what I want,” he said.
“I really don’t.”
His expression faltered for a moment. The swagger and bravado fell away, revealing a tenderness.
He really was sad, though he was doing his best to cover it up.
“Did you get my emails?” he asked. “Did you listen to any of my messages?”
“I read exactly one of your emails. As soon as I got to the part where you asked me to do porn again, I closed it, and ignored all the rest.”
“There’s your mistake,” Liam said.
I shook my head, taking out my phone from my back pocket. I navigated to one of the many emails from Liam, opening one of them up for the first time.
“Why would you write me something like this? Red. I’m going to come see you. I’d be overjoyed if you did a solo video for me, but I’m open to other things as well. If you don’t want to be on film again, I understand. But I have to get out of LA, Red. To say things have gotten bad would be an understatement.”
I paused for a moment as I was reading his email out loud. I met his eyes and found that his expression had softened again.
“Sorry. I never read the whole thing before now,” I said. I kept reading, more slowly now. “I can’t be here anymore. It’s not that I feel unsafe, but, well… I don’t exactly feel safe, either. Colin is out of his mind. Sometimes I think the last time I really felt like myself was when I was with you, when we—”
“Okay, okay, you don’t have to read it out loud,” Liam said, standing up and giving me his fiery gaze again.
“Who is Colin?”
Liam pulled in a breath, looking at the floor. “A guy I broke up with when I left LA. A... very shitty guy.”
I paused, watching him. I hated how shellshocked he looked. “Did Colin hurt you?”
“I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Did he hurt you?” I repeated, my voice firm.
“No,” Liam said. “I’m okay, Red. I mean it when I say I don’t want to talk about him, though.”
I took a deep breath. “Well, it finally got you out of my damn chair,” I said. I pocketed my phone.
He scrubbed his palms over his face, then ran a hand through his hair. “I was… pretty wasted when I wrote that one. I’m sorry.”
If I had a nickel for every time Liam had told me he was pretty wasted.
“I thought you said you don’t drink anymore.”
“I don’t,” he said. “Not since that night.”
My heart twisted in my chest. The email had been from about a month ago. Had Liam really gone that long without drinking?
Liam Hardy had been one of the biggest partiers I’d ever met. Pills and liquor, over and over again on an endless loop. He was constantly surrounded by a group of people who offered him free booze, stimulants, downers, whatever. He tossed back shot after shot every night. Sometimes he’d black out. Sometimes he’d be incoherent. Every night was a gamble.