Page 137 of Liam

Chinese from that Mexican place.

“That’s a thing?” I ask.

“That’s thebestthing,” he replies, as if this is something I should already know. “Ask him for his order.”

Addie

Send through your order.

Liam rolls onto his back, eying the ceiling. “So this tattoo thing,” he muses. “You think it could be an initiation into the Roman Acceptance Club?”

“You’re an idiot.”

He climbs on top of me, settles between my legs, and presses his mouth to my collarbone. “At least I’m a hot idiot.”

Liam groans, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Your brother’s going to know we spent the whole day sexing.”

“We’ve spent almost every night together for over a week. I’m sure heknowswe’ve been sexing.”

His eyes widen in fear, and so I throw him a bone.

“But you’re bringing him food, so…”

“Sowhat?”

“So… that’s a point for you, I guess.”

“Oh, great,” he scoffs. “Now we’re keeping score. What am I? Negative fifty?”

I laugh under my breath, but he doesn’t find it so funny. He glances at me, a glare set in place. I sigh, adjusting our takeout boxes on my lap so I can hold them with one hand, the otherreaching out to stroke the hairs at his nape. “Baby, nothing I say is going to make you less anxious, is it?”

“No. But calling mebabysure helps.”

Roman’s coffee table is covered with Chinese takeout boxes and cans of soda. Roman sits on the coach on one side, Liam and I on the floor on the other.

Liam barely got through his greeting of “Hey, man,” without his voice cracking. He’s barely said two words since. We’ve been eating for ten minutes already.

“So…” Roman says, picking up an egg roll with his chopsticks. “What did you guys get up to last night?”

Beside me, I canfeelLiam tense. “Us?” I ask, all nonchalant. “Oh, we had awildnight.”

Liam chokes on air.

“Addie, don’t do that to him,” Roman scolds, dead serious.

“Yeah, don’t do that to me,” Liam echoes.

I roll my eyes. “I wasn’t talking about our physical activities.”

Roman drops his chopsticks with a sigh, looking between us, and I turn to Liam just in time to watch the blood drain from his face.

“I just have one question that I’m going to ask one time,” Roman says. “And then we never speak about it again.” He pauses a beat. “You’re being safe?”

“Yes,” Liam and I say at the same time, only his comes with a “sir” at the end.

“Good.” Roman picks up his chopsticks, starts eating again, and with a mouthful of food, asks, “So what non-physical activity caused a wild night?”

“Pierson called.”

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