Page 22 of Fighting With Light
“I’m going to go change while we wait for the food.”
“Do you…want me to go with you?” he asks carefully and I’m not sure how to answer. I’m aware he has no reason to trust me, but I know he needs proof. So this is step one. I am in this wholeheartedly; my father deserves what’s coming to him.
“No, that’s okay. It will just take a few minutes.”
He hesitates and leans back in his chair. “The key card is right there,” he says, pointing to the counter where he set mine. Glancing at my phone, still sitting on the bed, I decide to leave it there. I’m sure part of him thought maybe I would call someone for help. I won’t do that and not having a phone will show him I’m serious. Sure, I could call someone from the room, but he will just have to trust that I won’t.
“Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.”
He stares at me before spinning back around, and I force my feet to move through the door and to my villa.
When I get there, I take a drive-thru shower and remove my old makeup. Since I don’t know what we’re doing today, I opt for one of my black bikinisand a linen dress. I brush my hair out, leave my face bare, and high-tail it back to Liam’s.
Instead of knocking on the front door, I come around to the back and the door is already open, with the gauzy curtains blowing in the breeze. Liam isn’t in the room, but the bathroom door is closed.
My phone is still laying on the bed in the exact place I left it. I know he snooped on me, so I decide to do the same and walk over to the small closet and open it quietly. There are some nice clothes hanging on hangers, but the rest of it is board shorts, those moisture-wicking shorts he was wearing when we were rock climbing, tank tops, and t-shirts. He’s a simple guy. There’s a little dresser unit that hangs on the wall in the closet and I open one drawer, finding his underwear, a money clip thick with cash, and a couple of divers watches laying in the drawer. I slide out the next drawer and it’s more board shorts, which makes sense. He’s a professional surfer. Satisfied that there’s nothing hiding in here, I take a step back and close the door to the closet, hoping it doesn’t squeak.
“Find anything interesting?” Liam asks. I yelp and my heart leaps up my throat. He’s leaning against the side of the wall, arms crossed and a lazy grin on his face. He stays there waiting for an answer and I shake my head.
“You might find something in that drawer,” he says, pointing to the dresser below the TV hanging on the wall. “Oh wait, probably not. It’s a pair of jeans and climbing crap. But feel free to check it out if you’d like.”
My heart finally calms and I glare at him. He lifts his hands in surrender and goes back to his computer. “If you have a question, ask it, Aelia,” he says over his shoulder.
I stare at his backside, and he’s wearing a fresh pair of board shorts, with an unbuttoned linen shirt. His hair looks wet and the smell of body wash wafts out of the bathroom. “I figured I was returning the favor because I’m sure you snooped around my villa.”
He shrugs. “Looking and snooping are two different things. I didn’t actually open the drawers.”
“Well, I did. Deal with it.”
He chuckles and starts typing again. “Yes, ma’am,” he says.
“What are you doing over there?”
“Checking on some things,” he says cryptically.
“Liam, if we’re going to do this, you have to keep me in the loop.” He says nothing back and in the time I wait for him to clue me in, breakfast arrives.
Liam rolls the cart to the back patio and leaves it next to the two chairs. We help ourselves. As we eat, he won’t look at me and I don’t appreciate that.
“So, you’re into computers.”
“Yup,” he says, and takes a bite of his eggs.
“Why do you like computers?”
“If this is your attempt at small talk, please take us out of our misery and stop,” he says.
“Then stop being so standoffish,” I snap.
“Sorry, I…don’t know what to do with you now.”
My stomach feels weirdly light and kind of tight. “What does that mean?” I ask him.
“Well, the jig is up, the game is over.”
“I was agame?“ I say, a little taken aback.
He shakes his head quickly. “No, wrong word, sorry. Mission?”
