Page 30 of Taming Liberty

He walks the several feet to stand beside me, his breathing annoyingly even.

Grateful to have a CamelBac strapped to my back, I bring the nozzle to my mouth and suck down big gulps of water. When I’m done with it, I hold the nozzle out toward Angel.

He shakes his head. “I’m okay.”

Of course, you are.

I drop the nozzle and take slow, deep breaths in through my nose as quietly as I can.

“It’s not much farther.” He gestures behind him. “It’s worth the hike. I promise.”

“You make a lot of promises,” I mutter.

He smirks. “You know, you’re breathing awfully hard for a triathlete.”

I let out a sound between a scoff and a laugh. “What makes you think I didn’t lie about that?”

“There’s a picture on your Facebook page.”

“Fromthree years ago. Fucking stalker.”

He chuckles, his canines gleaming at me.

I smile back and forget for a moment that this is supposed to be part of the plan. That I’m supposed to act like I like him, like I’m happy to see him. If I’m being honest with myself, Iamhappy he’s home. I went out of my mind waiting for him to get back, thinking he’d be home days ago. As much as it irks me to feel so desperate, I’m glad I don’t have to sleep in the house alone. I know there are wolves lurking outside, and although I know most wouldn’t dare cross Angel, it feels safer when he’s here.

“Tell me something about you,” I say, letting my smile dim.

“Hmm?” His face pinches slightly.

“It’s highly unfair that you get to know so much about me while I know nothing about you.”

He shrugs. “There isn’t much to tell.”

Translation: I don’t trust you.

I roll my lips inward and nod in resignation before pushing off the tree. Angel falls into step beside me.

He’s quiet for a minute, and I think we’re going to leave it at that, but then he speaks. “What do you want to know?”

I fix my gaze on him and can’t keep my eyes from locking onto the sheen glistening his perfectly carved pecs.

“Anything,” I say, dragging my eyes off him. “I just want to know you. Therealyou.”

“You already do. I told you, everything I said in our exchanges was true except the backstory.”

“So whatisyour backstory?”

I turn my head to peek at him while we continue on the trail, but he gives me no indication of what he’s thinking.

He meets my eyes for a moment then he sucks in a deep breath, letting it out like he’s exasperated. “I’m from Spain. I moved to the UK for University and stayed for business ventures. Now I’m here.”

“That tells me absolutely nothing I didn’t already know.”

“Exactly.”

Irritation heats my already sweltering skin. I open my mouth to explain to him what I mean but close it to save myself the energy.

He knows. He knows I’m asking about his family, his childhood, hislife. Not his resume. He knows what I want, and he’s rejecting my request in his own way.

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