In my haste tonotanswer it, I must have hitacceptinstead ofdecline.Any hopes that Liam didn’t hear my friend screeching through the speakerphone are halted when he stops moving and looks directly at me with a smirk.
“Oh my god, shut up. Phoebe, stop talking right now!” I yell, finally managing to pick up my phone.
“I want to know too. How big is it? Because the only reason you wouldn’t have already told us would be if it was tiny, like pinprick tiny, and you feel bad for the guy. Lia, don’t feel bad,” Charlie says, followed by a barrage of laughter coming out of my phone’s speaker.
I hold the camera up to my face. “It’s so small you’d have trouble identifying it if it were next to a bobby pin,” I deadpan. “I didn’t even come,” I add, right before the phone is snatched out of my hands.
“Clearlyshe’s lying. She doesn’t want to let on to how extremely well-endowed I am. And just so you know, she was too busy screaming my name before she passed out after the fifth orgasm I gave her to take precise measurements,” Liam says, looking directly into my phone.
I’m on my feet and reaching for my phone in seconds, which only makes him lift it higher. “He’s lying. I have not andwould notgo anywhere near that disease-infested package of his,” I yell out, jumping up in a lame attempt to swipe the device from his hands.
“I have no problem getting up close and personal. I mean, they have all kinds of medications for clearing up that sort of thing these days.”Thiscomes from Amanda.
“Right? I agree. Why let a little STD get in the way of a good time?” Charlie adds with a laugh.
“Oh. My. God. Stop. This isn’t funny,” I growl.
“It kind of is,” Nicole counters.
I flop back to the ground. “You know what? You all want the infamous Liam King? Then have at 'em. I don’t even care,” I huff.
Liam looks down at me. Without a word, he disconnects the call and crouches in front of me while holding out my phone. “Your friends seem fun,” he says.
“Yeah, they are,” I tell him, taking the device and tossing it back into my bag.
“Between you and me, I’d pick you. Every fucking time.” He winks, stands to his full height, and then walks over to the bench press. Leaving me sitting here with my mouth hanging open in shock.
He’d pick me?What does that even mean? I don’t know how much time passes, but when Liam stops in front of me again, my butt is numb from sitting on the floor.
“Come on, we’re done in here.” He holds out a hand for me to take.
I look at his open palm like it’s the snake offering Eve that damned poisoned apple in the Garden of Eden. I know I want to take it, but I also know I shouldn’t. In the end, my manners win out and I place my hand in his large, warm palm. Liam tugs his arm back and I’m on my feet within seconds. He releases his hold when he bends down to pick up my bag. Then, without another word, he takes my hand again and leads me over to the elevator.
Why is he holding my hand? Or the better question is why don’t I want him to let go?
As soon as we’re inside the elevator, Liam glances down at our joined palms. His brows draw together, and he quickly releases his grip on me before tucking his now-free hand into his pocket.
Is he just as confused by that whole gesture as I was?
“I’m going to hit the shower and then order some dinner. Unless you want to join me and I can start with dessert?” He wags his brows up and down suggestively as his eyes roam the length of my body. The elevator doors open into his foyer.
“Tempting, but I’ll pass. I’ll sit out here. We actually have some PR stuff to go over before I head home.”
“PR stuff?”
“Yeah, like what charity events you’re going to attend, things you can do to make the people fall in love with you again,” I tell him as I make a mental list.
“I have one question,” he says.
“Go on.”
“How do I stop you from falling in love with me in the process? If I’m going to turn into the Canadian poster child for hockey again and all, that is? I mean, you’ve put up a good fight so far, but that’ll all change when you come to learn just how much of a nice guy I actually am.”
“I think I can refrain from developing feelings for you, Mr. King,” I tell him.
“And I think you’re going to fall so hard in love with me that you’ll be begging me to break the rules with you.”
“I don’t beg. Ever.”