Page 45 of The Savior

Chelsea gave a sweet but uncomfortable grin. “Because I think you told me something tonight that made you feel vulnerable.”

His eyes shot to her as he wondered how in the hell she’d pulled out the truth from his passing remarks.

“I just thought it’d be easier if you weren’t the only one on this bench who felt exposed.”

She’d done him a solid, and it had worked. “Do you like your job?”

“Mostly. The paperwork and transport is boring but important. But I love when I’m able to focus on Zee Zee Mars. Though my boss and partner wish I’d let the FBI handle it.”

He shifted. “You know what?”

“Hm?”

“I say let it go. If you’re happy, then the naysayers can go screw off.”

“Hear! Hear!” Chelsea raised an imaginary glass as the rain began to fall hard enough to be annoying.

He checked the app—and shit—now the time showed an additional fifteen minutes.

She glanced at his phone. “We’ll drown by then.”

“You should go upstairs.”Why did I let her sit here in the rain, anyway?His mind wasn’t clear. “I promise I’ll wait for my ride.”

She wiped rain off her forehead and stood. “Come on. Crash on the couch.”

His heartbeat escalated, and the desire to stay closer to her far surpassed the benefit of not taking a ride with a stranger. He didn’t know what to do with that and couldn’t answer.

“Liam.” She touched his wrist. “Come on. The couch is calling for you.”

Chelsea left him, as if the only answer were to agree with her. She didn’t look back when she reached the stairs. Liam caught up. A minute later, they were inside her condo, and he’d been ordered to sit in a dining room chair as she turned the couch into a guest bed, piling blankets and pillows onto it.

He watched her re-fluff a pillow. “You know I’ve slept on a cement plat in a war-torn country before?”

“Oooh.” She feigned amazement. “You are such a tough cookie.”

He laughed. “I’m just saying…”

“You’ve also slept in a bed,” she said matter-of-factly. “If I can make the couch comfortable, I’m going to make it comfortable.”

When she was done, Chelsea stepped away from the couch, and he stayed in his chair. They exchanged looks of gratitude for the night out—and awkwardly ignored what had happened between them.

After too long of a silence, she offered, “Good night, Liam,” and disappeared down the hall with a wave.

He stared at the couch-turned-bed and the empty hallway then finally whispered, “Good night, Sunshine.”

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