Page 69 of Fix Them Up
Lydia snorted. ‘Yasmin? No way. They are over, over.’ Lydia’s eyes widened. ‘Did he tell you about Yasmin? ’Cos he never speaks about that. Not to anyone.’
Well, that made me feel marginally better.
‘I met her. Thanks for the heads-up, by the way. He never even told me he had a daughter. Yasmin and Abigail came around, looking for Liam, and Yasmin basically slut shamed me, assuming I was one of his one-night stands –’
‘Oh my god,’ Lydia exclaimed, bordering on laughing, even though I knew she didn’t find it funny.
‘Yep. She basically implied I was a slag and then asked if Liam had been drinking.’
Lydia cringed. ‘Yeah, I could see how she got there. If she didn’t know you were staying in the annexe…’
‘Who jumps to that conclusion? It all seemed a bit intense.’
Lydia sighed. ‘Look. There is some… baggage between Yasmin and Liam. Hangovers from years ago, from when they broke up. I never got the full picture because Liam isn’t the biggest talker.’
He always seemed pretty open to talk to me.
I bit my lip. ‘What do you mean?’
Lydia glanced away. ‘Liam should explain, but he went through the wringer a few years ago. He wasn’t in a good place after Yasmin broke it off. But then, he got his shit together, quit drinking. Since then, he’s been a fucking saint.’ Lydia rolled her eyes. ‘Borderline boring, if you ask me. Not that he’s boring because he doesn’t drink, no.’ She glanced up to the ceiling, thinking, ‘It’s like he’s shrunk his life. Taking on your project was probably the most rogue thing he’s done in years. It’s work or Abigail.’ Lydia’s eyes softened. ‘He adores that kid.’
My stomach dropped. I’d accused him of being a bad dad. I’d completely projected all of my daddy issues onto someone who hadn’t deserved it. Who was I to judge someone doing their best? Things were clearly a lot more complicated than I’d thought. Nothing was black and white.
‘I’ve got to go,’ my coffee clammered down on the table, ‘I need –’ I wasn’t sure what I needed. To apologise? To hide? To make it right? Every option sat in my stomach heavy, like lead.
So I settled with, ‘I’ve got to go,’ and make my excuses to leave, pushing past the queue of people waiting for coffee.
Chapter Twenty-Three
My stomach rumbled, caving in on itself.
‘Shit,’ I muttered.
I opened and closed the kitchen cupboards for the third time that hour. Since Liam had started making all my meals, I didn’t need to buy anything for the little kitchenette in the annexe. I checked my phone – eleven p.m. It was too late to order anything; all the restaurants on my phone were closed.
Fuck’s sake.
I was pretty sure Liam was asleep, so I shoved my feet into my fluffy slippers and padded outside and down the stone path, mentally berating myself.
All day, I’d done a good job of avoiding Liam. I distracted myself. I reordered the spices in the kitchenette. I attempted to read, shifting in the armchair, but I was too restless sitting in one spot. I bit my lip until it bled and my nails down to the quick. I was in purgatory between a stupid kiss and an awkward conversation. I knew it was cowardly, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at Liam. To sweep it under the carpet. To say I hadn’t meant it.
A loud screech sounded from the trees, an owl.
‘Shut it,’ I hissed as I approached the bifold doors.
I tested the handle, and it lowered. Liam had left it open, and I winced as the door creaked. I made a note to lecture him aboutsafety, but how much could I lecture him now? Were we even friends?
I tiptoed into Liam’s kitchen, finding a loaf of bread in his bread bin. I thanked some random deity for carbohydrates and placed two slices in the toaster, my stomach roaring to life like a disused engine.
‘Kat?’ A low grumble came from behind me, and I whipped around, giving a short, sharp scream. Liam stood in the doorway in blue boxers and a dark grey hoodie with white sports socks on his feet. His large muscled thighs were on display, and I held back the thought of running my tongue across those muscles. No. Those were not appropriate thoughts about the man I threw myself at the night before. He ran his hands through his hair, revealing a line of defined muscles above his boxers.
Liam squinted, his hair sticking up at the back. He had no idea he was the perfect combination of cute and sexy right now.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, his voice concerned.
He rubbed an eye, coming over to where I stood, frozen, at the toaster. He looked me over, sweeping down my bare legs in my pyjamas – the same floral silky ones I had been wearing when he’d come into my house unannounced. His eyes sat there for a beat longer, making me squirm.
He made a low sound, almost like a groan. The noise shot straight through me and lower. ‘Are those the only pyjamas you own, Red?’ he asked, voice gravelly. ‘Or are you just trying to torment me?’
