Sophie chuckles as she grabs the remote, sitting next to me. “Sounds like you need some trashy reality TV to get your mind off not getting laid.”
“There’s nothing that powerful,” I retort.
“Not evenLove After Lockup?” she taunts, waving the controller in her hand.
I scowl, not giving in to temptation. Though it doesn’t work. Five minutes into the show, and I’m hooked. Dammit.
After two episodes, Liam and Tyler walk in, dripping with sweat.
Lord have mercy.Why?
He always looks sexy after a workout, but since he’s been training, his arms and chest are bulkier.
“Hey, baby.” Liam peeks behind me and smacks a quick kiss to my cheek. “Whatcha girls doin’?”
I inhale sharply, his sweaty smell surrounding me, which I love. Knowing what he’s doing, what hehasto do, makes me sick. Feeling this way is selfish, but I miss him.
I missus.
He has to face this head-on, but I don’t trust JJ or his word. What if this isn’t the last of it and he’ll want something else after? If Liam wins him a lot of money, will he want him to keep fighting and winning? Will I always be what they use against him?
I can barely deal with what’s going on as it is. JJ nearly killed us with that car explosion, and I don’t doubt he would go even further if Liam doesn’t follow his orders.
But I hope this doesn’t kill us or our relationship in the process.
“Watching TV, waiting for our men to come home and entertain us,” Sophie teases.
“Feelin’ like the fifth wheel over here, so off I go to take a shower,” Tyler quips.
“Liam’s not putting out, so trust me, you aren’t wheelin’ nothing.”
“You poor girl…” Liam mocks. “You waited twenty-one years, I think you can wait a couple more weeks.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, then walks to the kitchen.
“Perhaps Tyler can take your place until then?” I shout, knowing both of them are within yelling distance.
Liam stomps back into the living room, his eyes narrowed as he scowls at me.
“God, leave me out of this before Liam breaks my jaw.” I look over my shoulder at Tyler who’s shaking his head. “Trust me, he would.”
Then he walks upstairs, and Liam stares at me.
“What?” I feign innocence. “I waskidding.”
“Mm-hmm.” Liam studies me. “Can you put on some clothes? You wearing that isn’t helping.”
I look down at my tank top and sweat shorts. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
Sophie stands, groaning. “Quit torturing the man.” She takes my hand, then pulls me up. “Go put on a parka, so he’s not tempted to break the rules.”
“He used to love breaking the rules with me!” I shout, walking to my room.
Liam returned from Vegas four days ago with double black eyes, sore ribs, bloody knuckles, and a cut lip. He looked worse than when he came back from the mob boss’s guards kicking his ass. I nearly cried when I saw him, but he reassured me he was fine, though I knew he wasn’t.
He iced his entire body for two days straight before Tyler made him get back into the gym. Apparently, this Dice guy didn’t take it easy on him and taught him how dirty they fight in the underground world, which meant teaching him how to defend himself if he ended up on the ground and couldn’t get up. He even had a shoe imprint on his back.
Just the thought of what he went through made me want to puke. If something happens to Liam, and we don’t get one last opportunity to be intimate, I’ll always regret not showing him how much I love him. I can show him in other ways, but hardly touching each other or being close feels like the opposite. I hate the distance.
Instead of changing like Sophie demanded, I strip off my tank top so I’m left in my sports bra. Then I take off my shorts and replace them with my spandex leggings. After I fix my hair and put it up into a high ponytail, I grab my yoga mat and go back into the living room.