Page 52 of The Red-Hot Stakes

Derek poured him and Avery a small glass of whiskey each, then they both headed for the overstuffed armchair they always claimed. I forced myself to sit on the couch.

“Guys, I fucked up.” The words tasted awful as they spilled out of my mouth. I implied our intimacy, then told them exactly what I’d said to him and his reaction.

Derek’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you do that?”

I hung my head. “It’s a self-defense thing. People get too close, I get too attached…” I lifted a shoulder, wishing I could be different but not knowing how to change.

Avery came over to wrap an arm around my shoulders. “Oh, Gina.”

I leaned into her. “Every time things are going good, I go and screw it up.” A string of memories replayed, all the little moments I’d started getting comfortable at the foster homes, right before I’d messed it up. Self-fulfilling prophecy.

“She even tried to do it to me,” Avery explained to Derek as I listened with chagrin. “At one of the first parties we went to together, someone insulted me. So she stood up to them, put them in their place.” She shook her head, turning to me. “Your tongue should be a registered weapon.”

“But you still showed up the next day at my dorm with coffee and donuts.” The beginning of one of my favorite traditions. I squeezed her arm, letting her know how much it meant to me that she came back, and she held me tighter.

“I know so many people hurt you, and I know most don’t stick around after a test like this, but Liam’s one of the good ones.”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, he is, and he’s been through hell. I know he looks tough, but he had a rough couple years there.”

My voice was quiet as I admitted, “Liam told me about his football scholarship.”

Derek’s lips parted, and he sucked in a startled breath.

“And he took me to the diner.” I reached into my purse, pulling out the key. “He gave me this tonight. After what I said to him.” The guilt churned in my stomach as I stared at the small piece of metal resting in my fingertips.

“Whoa, Gina.” Derek’s voice was full of awe. I glanced up, and he lowered his chin, more serious than I’d ever seen him. “Please make this right? Please be careful with my friend? This is a lot for him.”

I swallowed, looking at the floor as I wrapped my hand around the key tightly enough for it to bite into my palm. “It’s a lot for me, too.”

We were all quiet for a long moment. I thought of Liam’s gesture, how he’d given me the key even after I’d treated him so badly. How he had reached out to me, time and again. I’d been vulnerable with him, more than once, and he had yet to hurt me. He deserved my trust, and more than that, my apology. I would make this right, no matter what. I took a deep breath then squared my shoulders and raised my head, determination brimming within me.

“So, what should I do?”

I felt better with a solid plan, though I still wasn’t sure I could sleep. I did, but lightly, and was up before everyone else. It being Wednesday, I had no classes. Liam had a morning meeting, so I wouldn’t be able to set my plan in motion until lunchtime. I tried studying, but it was difficult to do with the image of Liam’s pain-filled eyes lingering in my head.

Finally, it was time to get ready. I thought he’d appreciate lunch, especially since he had all those leftovers. I could use my new key, heat the food up and surprise him. I set about picking a cute outfit, then headed out, key in hand.

I hesitated at the door, wondering if I should knock. But that’s the whole point of the key, right? I decided to go in, my heart beating wildly the entire time as if someone were going to jump out and accuse me of doing something wrong. A flashback to the last time I’d surprised someone popped into my mind, but I shoved the image of Josh and his orgy away.

The apartment was quiet. I toed off my shoes, and when no one answered my tentative hello, I went to the kitchen to take stock of the leftovers, planning to shoot Liam a text to find out when he’d be back. Then I could plate up some of the stuff and have it ready to go.

A soft rumble made me jump, startling me enough that my hand automatically flew to my chest. The noise came from the sofa. I tiptoed over to find Liam sprawled across the couch, bare-chested and asleep.

His right arm was tucked behind his head, showing off the contoured lines of his muscles. The circular flames of his black tattoo stood stark against his tanned skin, and I stared at it, mesmerized before my gaze drifted down. It was my first time seeing him fully without a shirt, in good lighting.

He was worth the wait.

His broad, sculpted shoulders were so thick I wondered how he found shirts that fit. Then there was his chest. His big, broad, beautiful chest, pecs perfectly defined, dusted with light brown hair that tapered down to the thin line leading to his shorts.

His abs could inspire poetry or songs. I imagined if he were born in ancient times, he would have been fought over by women and men alike as a muse for their works of art. David, step aside, this is a real man.

I knelt beside the couch, resisting the urge to run a finger over the rough stubble on his cheek. He must not have shaved this morning for his meeting. I didn’t want to wake him. Maybe I could start getting out the leftovers quietly. I eased to my feet and had just turned away when he called my name.

“What are you doing here?”

I spun back around, unable to keep from staring at his beautiful chest as he sat upright. “Um, I, uh…” I wanted to touch him, taste him, claim every inch of him as mine. But first, I had to apologize, and my brain had stopped working in the face of his gorgeousness.

He took his time stretching, his expression growing annoyed.

---