Page 22 of Hired By the Enemy
I recite the elements of the periodic table to calm my thoughts.
And that helps, if only because it reminds me of the time in chemistry when Liam used the periodic table puzzle we were doing to insult me. He selected Lithium, Americium, Ruthenium, Xenon, Meitnerium, Sulfur, Uranium, Carbon, and Potassium to spell out LiAm RuXe, Mt SUCK, which hadn’t been completely grammatically correct but definitely communicated the message he wanted.
But even as I settle my body, I can’t help noticing that the shower still smells faintly like the citrus body wash Liam uses, the scent that lingers on his skin.
I come out of the shower with my pants on, then reach for a shirt in the closet.
“Don’t wear the brown shirt, wear the blue. It will bring out your eyes.” Liam’s voice is closer than I expected.
I pause, then slowly swivel to face him. He’s just finishing applying hair gel in the mirror on the other closet door, and his reflection meets my gaze.
My face must reflect my astonishment because he continues. “There’s a certain standard you have to reach to be my boyfriend,”
I let out a shaky breath before I manage to reply, “I was there in high school, remember? I’m pretty sure your onlystandard for your boyfriends or girlfriends was upright and breathing.”
But nevertheless, I reach for the blue shirt, trying not to notice how his eyes linger on the exposed bits of my chest as I fasten the buttons on my shirt.
When I’ve finished, he leans forward to brush a piece of fluff off my shoulder.
My breath hitches when he touches me.
What the hell is going on with me?
Is this Stockholm syndrome, when you end up sympathizing with your captors? Although, given I’m paying him to be here, I can’t really claim that one.
His hazel eyes meet mine, and I swear there’s the same energy between us that was there on the boat. His pupils dilate slightly before he steps backward.
“Now you’re up to scratch,” he says.
My retort generator has a momentary malfunction, and for the first time ever, I can’t come up with a snappy reply to Liam.
It’s like I’m forgetting to completely hate him.
Which isn’t what I need right now.
This is Liam, I remind myself as we walk down the path to the restaurant.Liam, the guy who I used to believe was put on this earth for the sole purpose of tormenting me.
I keep reminding myself of that fact during dinner when Liam continues to cast a spell over my colleagues and their partners, sharing funny and insightful comments about snorkeling.
He lightly places his arm across my back, and when a guy at a table next to us does a double-take, Liam calmly wraps his arm tighter around me.
My skin tingles under my shirt at the warmth of his fingers.
Liam has always claimed his sexuality loudly and proudly, which I can’t deny helped me. Having the most popular guy atschool openly embrace his pansexual identity definitely helped other kids who were struggling with their sexuality.
“So, Liam, you’re a personal trainer?” Henrietta asks as we eat dessert.
“Yes. For the moment, anyway. I’m actually looking to open my own gym,” he says.
My eyebrows fly up in surprise before I can control myself.
I can see Paul clocks my reaction.
Shit. That is definitely something I should’ve known about my boyfriend.
His eyes shoot between Liam and me, then his gaze narrows suspiciously.
“I’m sure Matthew will have given you some good advice about running a business,” he says.
