Chapter 16
Sophie
I stand naked in the turned-off shower, unable to move or even breathe.
I could hear my brother’s booming voice even over the drone of the water, but I had to hear what he was saying and, more importantly, what Liam was admitting to.
“You have a girl there, don’t you?” I can hear my brother say through the wall.
How could I forget Liam was incapable of keeping a secret from my brother? Back in tenth grade, he broke Cal’s Lego Eiffel Tower. Cal assumed the cat did it and wasn’t even mad, but Liam confessed everything within five minutes.
Of course he was going to tell Cal I was here, and probably—against his own self-interest—about our agreement.
Our agreement.
Our agreement was supposed to be casual.
No emotions. No stakes. But last night didn’t feel that way.
The way he figured out exactly what I craved and gave it to me, again and again.
The way he touched me—like I wasn’t fragile, but he could be the one to hold me together if I broke.
And the way he clutched me to his chest afterward as if he was afraid I’d leave. Nothing about last night felt casual.
That wasn’t what we agreed to.
When I woke up, our naked bodies still tangled together, I already knew I had to put some distance between us. That’s why I got up to take a shower, and thank god I did. Thank god I was out of there before Cal called.
I carefully slide open the shower door and wrap myself in a towel. I lean against the closed door, straining to listen.
“You’re right, I had someone here last night, but it’s no big deal.” Liam’s voice is detached, and my stomach drops. This is where he tells him. “You know me. It’s just sex, it doesn’t mean anything.”
Something in my chest cracks.
But I also exhale the breath I’d been holding since I heard the phone ring.
Liam didn’t spill our secrets. But he did tell the truth. It’s just sex, it doesn’t mean anything.
This is why I suggested the agreement. Liam Blake doesn’t do relationships.
He’s the Playboy athlete who never gets attached—and that’s why this works.
Whatever I thought I felt last night is just sex.
Really good sex I want to keep having. I just need to keep my boundaries in check. That’s what we both want.
I pull on yesterday’s leggings and the hoodie I left in the bathroom.
I’m not walking back into Cal’s room naked for clean clothes.
I wait at the door until I’m sure Liam’s off the phone with my brother, then head to the kitchen and grab the Froot Loops I’ve ignored ever since he started leaving egg sandwiches on the counter before his runs.
He’s not my boyfriend. If this FWB thing is going to work, I need some distance.
“Hey,” Liam says, walking into the kitchen in just a pair of low-slung flannel pajama pants. He leans down to kiss my cheek, but I step back, reaching for the milk. Liam watches me, but he doesn’t press. “How’d you sleep?”
“Great!” I say a little too chipper. “A good orgasm will do that to a girl.” And not the curling up in the cocoon of his body heat all night.
“I…uh,” Liam hesitates. “I talked to your brother while you were in the shower.”
“Really?” I say. “How’s he doing?”
Liam watches me pour milk into my cereal bowl and scratches at the stubble across his jaw. “He’s good. They finished building the health clinic, and now he’s seeing patients for the next eight weeks.”
“Sounds like Cal,” I say, digging through the drawer for my favorite spoon.
Eight weeks. The past month has been fun pretending things are going smoothly, but Cal will be back in two months, this thing with Liam will be over, and I’ll have to get on with my life—figure out what that even looks like now that my art career is off the table.
I might be painting, but it’s not the kind of art that sells, and I’m not sure I even want it to be anymore.
“I didn’t tell him…” he says, pulling me out of my doom spiral. He shifts on his feet and studies the pile of Cal’s mail on the breakfast bar like it might have some answers. “I didn’t tell him you were here.”
Relief washes over me. I need more time to sort everything out. I look up at Liam—the flush on his cheek, the bow of his lip, the hard line of his shoulder—and I’m hit with an uncontrollable urge to get lost in those muscled arms.
Maybe I can pretend for a bit longer.
“It’s better this way,” I reply, and take my Froot Loops into Cal’s room, shutting the door behind me.