Page 195 of Push

Liam’s eyes paused on the gouges in my legs. “You’ve seen me in some of my darkest moments.”

I had—too many of them. “Our mother will burn in hell for the things she did to you.” Even I was caught off guard by the fierceness in my voice.

He smirked. “I’ll pay my respects on your behalf when I see her there.”

“Liam.” I reached for the hand he’d rested on my ankle, but he snatched it away. “Don’t let the horrible things she called you define you—”

“She wasn’t wrong about me, Gwen. I don’t feel…anything. I want to lock up every memory I have of you in my heart, but I can’t. There’snothinginside me.” Now, it was his turn to force a smile to make the conversation easier. “But I have a long memory. I remember the nights you sat with me and cried when I couldn’t. And I’ll never forget the night you saved my life. I owe you a debt.”

“You don’t owe me a damn thing. Did you think I’d leave you out there beaten like that? You should have let me take you to the hospital. God, Liam, you could’ve died that night!”

“If only.” He leaned even closer, his breath warm on my cheek. I thought he might peck it with a kiss, but the press of his lips never came. Instead, he promised, “I’ll repay you for that night. A life for a life.” And then his weight disappeared from the bed.

“Liam!”

He paused, his hand cupped around the glossy white doorframe.

A million words fought to tumble out of my mouth, and a hurricane of emotions wrestled to be unleashed. How was it possible to feel so much—anger, frustration, fear, gratitude, and belonging—all at once? The grave expression on Liam’s face forced me to take in a shaky breath. I spared him all of it. He wasn’t ready, and honestly, neither was I.

“Is Romeo’s nameactuallyRomeo?” I asked.

Liam’s heavy frown eased when his eyes widened with surprise. He recovered by nodding. “It suits him, no?”

I snorted. “I seriously thought he was making it up.”

Liam shook his head. “But I suppose your eager little mind might be interested to know the name he turned his back on to work for me instead.” As his hand slipped away from the door, he smiled and said, “Romeo Morelli.”

59

He Made a Proposal

Toby

Tiny fish soaps jiggledin the dish on the vanity.

The mini earthquake was my fault. Water pelting from the showerhead muffled the moans, but even with my hand braced on the wall and the other gripping Gwen’s ass, I strained to stop her tumbling to the floor as I thrust my cock into her. She was slippery with steam and a glisten of sweat. My pants were tangled around my ankles, and the angle I needed to hit her just right was burning my quads. The cramped bathroom wasn’t an ideal sex spot—even for a desperate midnight quickie.

Gwen’s fingertips dug into my back. “I’m glad the doctor…said…I’m fine,” she gasped against my shoulder.

Were wefinallyhaving this conversation now? “Me too.”

When the doctor had signed Gwen off with “All Clear,” I could finally breathe again. Her phone call had torpedoed through an uneventful coffee with Zach and the foot-stomping, babyccino aficionado, Josie, and blown up my entire world.

There were moments in life when you knew exactly what mattered. My friend had helped me out, and my son had been left in his safe hands. My wife had needed me.

Now, I just needed to make sure nothing like that ever happened again.

Gwen nibbled my neck. “I thought we were going to talk through our problems.”

“Shh.” I stopped her teasing with the type of deep, feverish kiss that made her toes curl. “We’ll make an exception just this once.”

“I have no objections.”

“Good,” I grunted. “Now, hush up, and let me finish taking care of my wife.”

When she was breathless, batting my hand off her clit and begging me for no more, I gently lifted her off the vanity and carried her to the shower.

“My legs are wobbly,” she said, her palm pressing flat on the tiles to steady herself.

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