Page 84 of The Savior

He shut the door behind him, and the yellowish light from the hallway disappeared, leaving him framed by a blank white wall. With the wet, tousled hair, and the clothes clutching his damp muscles, Liam looked like a tall, dark, and… confused superhero.

“You were in the shower?” Chelsea focused on the obvious, because now the idea of chasing him across town seemed foolish.

He half laughed. “Yeah. I was getting out.”

She threw her thumb over her shoulder. “I can step out, if you need me to…”To what? Leave the apartment so he can go back to his bedroom and finish toweling off?She’d seen him naked, so obviously, standing outside wasn’t needed for him to change in another room.Why do I have to be so awkward?

“I’m good.” He shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “You met the neighborhood welcoming committee.”

“Yes.” Chelsea grimaced. “She’s charming, and by charming, I mean…intense.”

“That’s putting it nicely.” Liam walked to his couch and eased down. His long legs tucked under the coffee table, and he leaned against the back cushion as though getting ready for a double feature.

Gone was the upset man she’d chased across town. Of course he’d be fine. She’d overreacted. He simply needed a breather. Or a phone call… which he didn’t answer.

Her stomach tensed.Am I jealous? Of what?It didn’t make any sense. She’d never been jealous. But at that moment, she didn’t know her right from her left. Even though she tried in vain to name her feelings with such basic terms—jealousy, sadness, worry—she couldn’t. Everything was so much more complicated, and she didn’t know the words to define how she felt.

But as he settled back, pulling a swig of his beer, her disappointment also registered, as did the uncomfortable, selfish realization that she wished she could’ve been the one he’d called.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” She eyed what had clearly been a first-class self-care plan: shower, movie, popcorn, and beer. “But you seem fine.” She smiled uncomfortably. “I’ll go.”

He paused the movie and tilted his head in a way that made her want to curl into his lap.

Hello!Liam wasn’t the one who needed comfort. She was!

She was dying for someone to tell her that the day had been rough, but taking apart Julia’s bedroom had been needed.

She and Linda had laughed and cried. Similar to the celebration of life, they’d told stories and shared memories.

But now, more than anything, she needed Liam to wrap his arms around her and promise that she was safe from the real world so long as he hid her away.

“Want a beer?” he asked.

She jerked out of her thoughts. Liam had already pushed up. “Yeah—I can get it.”

Because standing there, craving safety and warmth that she wasn’t sure she was allowed to feel, wasn’t what she wanted to do.

His fiery green eyes slid from her eyes to her mouth and lingered.

“Give me a second,” she said. “Be right back.”

Heading to the kitchen was safer than wondering what that look meant. Was he somersaulting through the same mental gymnastics she was? Or had sleeping together been a primal, basic way to remove her completely from his system?

“You can have whatever you want,” he said in a loaded way.

No, she was most certainly not out of his system, and if Liam watched her like that a second longer, she was liable to combust. What was wrong with them? It was as though they couldn’t be in the same room together without lighting the air on fire.

Chelsea faltered with a fake smile and beelined for his kitchen. “Go ahead and start the movie again.” Maybe that would help alleviate the tension she didn’t want to face.

Macho dialogue and revving engines came to life, and she could’ve said a prayer of thanks that he’d gone back to watching something with cold-packed testosterone.

“I have an important question for you,” Liam called.

Oh no. She prepared for the worst. A promise not to eyeball him? A commitment not to chase him home again? “What’s that?” She cringed, uncertain of what he’d say and opened his fridge then frowned—condiments, orange juice, and beer. “What do you eat?”

“Food.”

She rolled her eyes. This was awful and cliché, in a man-cave way. “You could’ve fooled me.”

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