Page 48 of The Savior

Or, rather, hadn’t.

She couldn’t trust herself not to turn pink. She’d had a hard time looking away from the definition in his frame even while he slept. Pathetic. But that was the truth.

“Are you making enough to share?”

“Sure.” She studied the blender, watching the swirl of fruit color rise as it mixed with the yogurt, then turned it off. An air bubble popped as the smoothie came to a rest, and she added another heap of ingredients and ice.

The ice sank into the mixture, and in her peripheral vision, she saw Liam come closer. She flipped the blender to high speed for no reason other than she’d confirmed he had donned pants but no shirt.

The smoothie was in danger of turning into a frappe if she didn’t turn off the blender, but she couldn’t move with him standing so close.

“I think it’s good.” Liam reached in front of her and turned the knob. The screaming whirl became a whining rumble as it came to stop, but she didn’t take her eyes off the raspberry-pink drink.

An air bubble popped to the top, leaving the drink more than ready to be served, but she couldn’t grab the glasses without turning toward him. Her blood rushed in her neck.

“Everything okay?” he asked with a low, pebbled coarseness that held an edge of concern.

She didn’t know the answer, as much as she didn’t remember how to breathe without reminding herself—in, out, in, out. But she painted on a professionally nondescript smile and turned. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

He snickered, cocking an eyebrow.

Oh yeah. He remembers last night. Then why the Fudgsicles hasn’t he put on a shirt?Chelsea pressed her fingertips to the edge of the counter and used every minute of federal agent training she’d ever endured to mask her thoughts. “Can you hand me two glasses?”

His jaw ticked. The emerald green in his eyes was liable to set a fire—or maybe it had, deep below her stomach. She twisted away from his stare. “Cabinet to your left.”

Liam retrieved two glasses and returned too close to her and set them down. His hip leaned against the counter, mere inches from her hand. Chelsea licked her lips, unnerved by his nonchalance. Standing seemed awkward, and she didn’t know where to rest her eyes.

“Thanks for last night,” he said.

His gratitude shattered the last slip of resolve she had left, and as heat suffused her cheeks, she jerked the blender up and poured their smoothies. Finally, with a task to do, she handed him his drink and offered a benign nod. “That’s what friends are for.”

Friends were for lending a shoulder and for keeping each other from drinking and driving, and that was it, not for flirting with her best friend’s boyfriend, even if he wasn’t anymore. She tripped through the mental gymnastics needed to understand that complication and focused an unneeded amount of attention on her smoothie glass.

He took a sip and gave an approving nod. Chelsea sipped also, vowing not to stop until she’d found her composure, but when her throat froze and an icy chill shivered along her shoulders, she gave up the idea of poise.

Liam had a way of watching her that belied the casualness in his stance. He drank his smoothie with ease and watched as she most certainly didn’t. “Do you have to go to work?”

She could’ve kissed him for changing the subject—but she could’ve kicked herself for thinking about kissing him. “I have to brief Mac on a couple things…”

“He’s your partner?”

“He’s a lot of things. Partner would be the best title.”

His head cocked. An eyebrow arched as if he wanted her to keep explaining.

“Not personally,” she quickly added. “We’re close. In that way that you are if someone’s got your back.”

He hummed as though he understood, straightening, but his lips remained pressed thin.

“Mac’s a good guy,” she continued needlessly. “A little, or a lot, overbearing. But dagger sharp and smart.”

Liam’s jaw barely relaxed. He held up his glass. “Let me finish this, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Don’t rush.”

But he gulped the rest of the smoothie down and washed out his glass in the sink. He strode away, and she put down her glass on the counter, noticing how her hands vibrated almost as if she needed to come down from a burst of adrenaline.

When Chelsea was certain she could act like a normal human being or even a so-called friend, she tossed the empty yogurt container into the recycling bin and refilled her ice trays. Shutting the freezer door, she sighed and closed her eyes in a last-ditch effort to calm herself before walking out to say goodbye to Liam.

And she could.Nothinghad happened with Liam. She didn’twantanything to happen. The previous night with him had been some weird, alcohol-to-blame type of mourning.

Chelsea forced her eyes open and came eye-to-eye with a photo of her and Julia. The selfie was one of Chelsea’s favorites where they’d wrapped their arms around one another. A magnetic frame held the picture. Its all-caps lettering arched above their heads—Best FriendsForever.

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