Page 41 of Break Point
I’m gaping at the phone now, and Liam nods in confirmation as if reading my mind. Liam’s best friend, Tobias Sjöberg, is William’s brother. They’re both famous Hollywood actors, but William’s on a whole other level.
“Tell Liam to fuck off and come back to bed,” we hear William say as Liam unmutes the call.
Billie laughs, and Liam does too. I’m still starstruck.
“Why don’t you guys call me sometime during the week? I’m seven hours ahead and usually alone most of the day since William’s re-filming a few scenes over here. But I would love to get to know you better, Belén.”
“Sounds good, Billie,” I say, embarrassed of being too quick to judge and feeling jealous for no reason. “We’ll talk some other time.”
“It was nice hearing from you guys. We’ll talk soon.”
“Bye, Red.” Liam ends the call and stretches his arm to place his phone on my nightstand. “See what I mean?”
“Was thattheWilliam Sjöberg?”
“It certainly was,” Liam says with a lifted brow. “So what do you say? Do I stand a chance with Billie?”
“Not in the slightest.” I push Liam back on the bed, and his head lands on the pillows.
“Hey!” he complains with a laugh. “Yeah, who are we kidding? That guy is pretty much a Norse God reincarnated.”
“He is.”
“Okay, that’s enough.” Liam pulls me on top of him, still laughing. “I get it. The whole world gets it.”
“He doesn’t have your pretty lashes, though.” I run a finger around his eye and stare at him.
“He doesnot.” He kisses me, and I’m feeling overflowed with happiness. It was nice to talk to Liam about my feelings without it escalating into an ugly fight. It gives me hope. Maybe Icanchange.
“What happens if I spend the night?” Liam asks with caution.
“You would make me very happy.”
He’s never stayed any later than 11:00 p.m., and even if the thought of getting caught makes me nervous, another considerable part of me wants him to stay. I wouldn’t mind being held by him all night.
“But you’ll have to leave before Carmen or Tony arrive because they won’t hesitate to tell my dad, and I don’t think you’d be allowed to set foot in this place ever again if they did.”
“I’ll leave at six a.m. Does that work for you?”
“That’s perfect.”
Liam flips me, moves on top of me, straddles my hips with his knees, and leans toward the nightstand lamp. “Lights on or off?”
“On.”
“Even better.”
Liam’s fast asleep, and I open my eyes after a couple of hours of tossing and turning without being able to fully relax. As much as I tried, my stomach wouldn’t stop growling, demanding sustenance.
A glass of milk and cookies usually does the trick, so I remove Liam’s arm around my waist and tiptoe to the kitchen, wearing an oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts. I’ve no idea what time it is, but the lights are out in the apartment.
2:17 a.m., my microwave informs me.
Damn it …
The thought of waking up in a few hours for practice makes me want to throw up.
After pulling out the milk carton, I close the fridge and let out a startled cry when I notice a tall silhouette standing in front of me.
