Page 33 of The Savior

Ignoring her question, he said, “Sometimes they pop out. Like a pimple.”

“Ew, Liam.” But that shouldn’t embarrass her after the queso-throwing incident. “I’ll keep an eye out for unexpected blemishes.” She turned toward her condo building, and he fell into step with her, so she stopped. “Do you have other first-aid fun facts?”

“I had a shitty day.”

Oh.Chelsea offered a sympathetic nod. “I can relate.”

He ambled forward, and she caught up as they crossed the parking lot and stepped onto the sidewalk.

“And I did some Googling.” Glancing down, he gave a wry smile. “Glass jar wounds. Cheese sauce poisonings—”

Chelsea elbowed him.

“Ooffh.” He covered his ribs, sidestepping out of striking zone. “Easy there, killer.”

“Watch out, or someone’ll be able to Google death by funny bone.”

Unafraid, Liam slid back to her side. “Ha, ha.”

They hit the stairs to the second-floor walkup and stopped at her condo door. She pulled out her keys. “Why’d you have a shitty day?”

He sobered. “I had a meeting with this… lady.”

Twisting the key in the door, she said, “I hear those are scary.”

He quietly chuckled. “She has an ice chest instead of a heart.”

They stepped inside. Chelsea dropped her purse and tossed her keys on a small table. “Ah, that makes more sense.”

“Nothing about her makes sense.” Looking around the room, Liam said, “I expected you to be more organized.”

“You’ve never been in here?” She tried to think of a time he had been, but with Julia’s unit in the same complex and so close, that was where he’d met them if they were going out. Occasionally, he’d picked Julia up from her unit, but he never came upstairs. “Huh.” She extended her hand, exaggerating the gesture. “Then welcome.”

He eyed her pile of junk mail next to the keys.

Chelsea shrugged. “I don’t check voicemails, and I don’t do junk mail either.”

“You’re just a regular rebel, huh?” Liam walked across the small entryway to the living room and fell onto the couch.

“Make yourself at home.”

He stretched his arms out. “How was your day?”

She snorted.

“That good, huh?”

“I’d classify mine as awful also.”

“Mean ice-chest ladies?”

She smiled. “Nope. Overbearing men.”

“I’ve heard that type exists.”

She laughed and realized it was the first time all day she enjoyed a conversation. That said a lot about how her partnership with Mac was deteriorating and how she appreciated Liam’s unannounced drop-by.

They weren’t friends. Liam could be classified more like an associate or maybe an acquaintance, though that seemed too impersonal.

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