Chapter 22
“I’m so annoyed, I could scream. Ugh.”
Cece pulled the phone away from her face just as another one of those angry sounds blew over her lips. Mom had finally called to inform my sister of the plans she’d made for our future. The conversation hadn’t gone that great, and after she’d hung up with our mother, Cece immediately FaceTimed me to vent.
Setting aside my book, I sat on the bed and leaned against the headboard. I hated how disconnected our family suddenly was, that my mom had turned into someone we didn’t recognize.
I hated it, but I also understood where it came from.
“It’s this thing with Dad,” I told my sister. “With him sick, she doesn’t know what to do with herself. And we’re the perfect target for her overstimulated brain right now.”
My sister leaned closer to the camera. “How do you do that?”
“What?” I shrugged.
“Find the good in every shitty situation.”
My gaze locked on my empty doorway. It was late, and Liam wasn’t home yet. This was nothing new, considering I heard him come home at around nine almost every night. Tonight, though, it bothered me.
More than it should, but I couldn’t help it.
Ever since I’d left his office, seconds after he had, I couldn’t stop thinking about the ordeal with his grandfather.
The way they’d spoken to each other.
The not-so-subtle remark about my looks, or rather, my weight.
And there was Liam. The moment he’d seen his grandfather, he’d completely shut down.
It made my head hurt. My heart, too.
From what little Rafe had told me, I knew neither of Liam’s parents were alive, and he’d spent most of his childhood with his grandfather.
The mere thought of him living under the same roof as that man sent a violent shudder through my body. How deep did the emotional damage Mr. Maxwell Sr. had inflicted on his young, impressionable grandson run?
Because people like him, people who believed themselves to be above others, didn’t give two shits about hurting the ones entrusted to them to get ahead in whatever game they were playing.
I’d seen it with my own eyes. Natalie’s father had done it to her for as long as I could remember. I didn’t even want to think where she’d be if Zach hadn’t come into her life when he had.
Who was there for Liam?
“Helloooooo, earth to Evie.” My sister’s voice filtered through my scattered thoughts. I blinked a few times and my attention was back on Cece. Or rather the deep frown wrinkling her brow.
“What?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I’d ask what has you so distracted, but I think I already know.”
I swallowed hard. “You do?”
“Oh yeah.” She grinned like an idiot and waggled her brows. “Could it be a tall, not-so-dark, but oh-so-handsome CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company you want to marry…for money?”
I just stared at my sister. How the heck did she know about Liam?
My confusion must’ve been written all over my face. Leaning even closer to the tiny camera, she fiddled with something then smiled like she’d won the lottery.
“There.” Her smile widened even more. “Now I’ll be able to see that face forever.”
“You’re a horrible sister,” I said matter-of-factly, then asked the one question I desperately needed an answer to: “How did you know?”
Her brow arched. I could practically hear the “seriously” roll off her tongue before she made a single sound.
“Mom told you.”
“Of course she did. Now, tell me what to wear.” Cece set the phone on her dresser and stepped back to peel off her T-shirt and tights. In nothing but her underwear, she grabbed two dresses from her bed and held them toward the phone.
I should have been studying the garments, giving my input on which one I thought she’d look the prettiest in. But all I saw was a gorgeous body I didn’t have. A sharp pain shot through my chest, stealing the oxygen from my lungs.
I wasn’t jealous of how utterly stunning my sister was. Not really. I was sad and angry that I couldn’t love myself enough not to compare. That I wasn’t entirely happy in my own skin.
“If I were you,” my sister said, “I’d do it. He’s rich. He’s hot. Did I mention, he’s rich? If the guy wants to pay you to be his wife, then why the hell not?”
I couldn’t help it; a laugh bubbled over my lips. “Just like that? I like the green one, by the way.”
“Yup, just like that.” She tossed the red dress on the bed and wiggled into the bottle-green one. Stepping closer to the camera, she twirled first left then right then bent down to bring her face in full view.
Two thin straps hung loose over her shoulders while a big bow at her back pulled the bodice tight over her chest. The skirt flared out and ended mid-thigh.
She looked amazing.
I smiled. “Gorgeous.”
“Hey, where are you? That background doesn’t seem familiar.” Her brows dipped for a second before her eyes widened. “Please don’t tell me you’re back with Anthony. That good-for-nothing piece of shit doesn’t deserve you.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell my sister I’d gone through with it. That I was, and for the next five years would be, a married woman. But something stopped me. Maybe it was how things had backfired so spectacularly when I’d told our mom.
I didn’t know, just that the words wouldn’t come.
I shook my head. “There will never be an Anthony and me again.”
“Who the fuck is Anthony?”
I slapped a hand over my chest, and my gaze shot to the doorway. It wasn’t empty anymore. Arms folded over his ridiculously broad chest, hair wild and loose, Liam leaned his shoulder against the frame.
One look at this man, and the butterflies in my belly took flight.
“Who’s there?” Cece asked, her face filling up my screen.
I eyed the big man eyeing me right back. “Uh, I’ll call you later. Love you. Bye.”
“No, no. Don’t ha—”
Disconnecting the call, I let my phone fall into my lap.
“You’re home.” Why the hell did my voice sound like that? All flustered and breathy.
Liam pushed off the frame. “You didn’t answer me. Who.” He took a step forward. “The.” Another step. “Fuck.” And another. “Is.” A few more steps, and he stood right next to the bed. “Anthony?”
He was so close and so tall, I had to tip my head all the way back to look at him. And goodness, the way those stormy eyes bored into mine was almost too much.
“My ex.”
Liam’s jaw muscle popped. “Was it serious?”
“Does it matter?”
I blinked, and he was right there. Bent over, fists digging into the mattress, and his brutally beautiful face inches from mine.
“Yes, it matters.”
“Why?” I managed to squeak.
Liam’s stare intensified, and those steely blue eyes turned a few shades darker. “Because I need to know if it was his face you saw when I had my tongue inside your mouth and my hands on your body.” The muscle in his jaw popped furiously. “It matters because I don’t fucking share.”
His voice was so low and so serious, something deliciously warm crawled over my skin and seeped into my pores. It reached behind every wall, slithered through every crack, and settled somewhere deep inside my chest.
“No, Liam.” I exhaled a shaky breath. “Only you.”