Page 81 of Devilish Ink

“As much as it would kill me,” he said, “if I had to choose between Rian and you, I’d choose you. In every lifetime, in every way.”

He pulled back, staring into my eyes as he confessed.

“I love my brother. Butyouare my world.”

“I don’t like it,” Liam said as he held the top end of a thrifted mustard suede couch.

Grunting as I pushed from lower on the stairs, I frowned, “You don’t like what?”

Liam checked over his shoulder for the last step before nudging the front door open with his foot.

“Watch your fingers there,” he said before adding, “I don’t like it at all.”

We both sighed when we were finally able to set down theyellow second-hand monster in the centre of the tiny but cosy living room. Breathing heavily, I put my hands on my hips and stared down at the off-kilter cushions.

“I mean, you could have told me that before we lugged it up three flights of stairs,” I said.

I looked up to find Liam frowning. His eyes bounced between me and the ‘70s relic and back again.

“I don’t mean the couch, Ry.”

“What do you mean?”

Liam came toward me, waving his hand vaguely. “All of this.”

He wrapped me in his arms and sent us both toppling over the back of the couch. We landed in a tangled mess.

Liam brushed the hair from my face, eyes soft on mine. “I don’t think you living here is a good idea. I think you should move in withme.”

“We talked about this,” I said softly.

Liam didn’t understand why I needed my own place. The kind of place I liked: a temporary sublet. Paid in cash. No name attached. No trail to follow.

I was still fightingstaying. A part of me still feared putting down roots. Still had one foot out the door just in case it became too dangerous. After all, it’d been what had kept me alive so far.

“And,” he added, “I don’t think it’s a good idea thatyouare the one to tell Rian about us being together.”

“We talked about this, too,” I said with a gentle smile.

That one had been more contentious. Late night whiskeys. Half-naked arguing. Sex to blow off pent-up steam.

Liam wanted to be the one to tell him. He felt he owed his brother that much at least.

But I feared that Rian’s hatred would blind him to anything Liam said.

I argued that at least if the words were coming from my mouth, he could at least maybe seeme. His best friend. Someone he trusted.

Liam sighed.

“And you still haven’t done it.” His voice was soft but I could hear the strains of accusation in it.

“I will,” I told him. “I just haven’t found the right time yet.”

Liam said nothing, but I could see the way he pursed his lips that there was too much he wasn’t saying.

In truth, it’d been weeks since the night Liam finally confessed.

I’d had all the time Rian and I were alone in the apartment. All those moments at Dublin Ink when Conor and Aurnia went into the back storage room for a “break” or Mason left to watch one of Rachel’s practices.

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