Luciano | Book I ✓

Chapter Seven

A/N: [edited]

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The distant sound of rain woke me up the next morning. I felt at peace as my eyes fluttered open. I clung to the plush duvet that hugged my body as I rolled over lazily, eyeing the digital clock beside me. Red bolded numbers glared at me, causing me to squint my sensitive eyes as I checked the time; 5:45am. "Five in the morning," I muttered, rolling back to the position on my back.

The room remained dark, shadows going and coming as the intensity of the rain picked up. I couldn't believe I was up this early and, weirdly enough, I wasn't tired. Early morning thoughts took over as I closed my eyes, replaying the traumatic events of last night.

I remembered running. I remembered feeling as though I had come face-to-face with a wall, only to fall back and realize that it had been a person.  I remember scrambling to my feet, fear running straight to my soul at the intimidating man that had made a quick and surprising entrance.  I remember the feel of the gun against my throat and the grip he had on the back of my neck, his words were teasing, almost playful - which even now, made me sick to my stomach. What sick person could prepare to crack a joke before murdering someone?

I hopped out of bed, my palms sweaty.  I did my best to let the remaining thoughts that circled around last night, to fade.  Quietly, I open my bedroom door and step outside.  Rain pattered against the French doors that led towards the balcony.  Liam laid sprawled out on the sofa, his back to me.  A dim chattering came from the television as I sauntered up to it, listening.  An ESPN reporter was chatting excitedly about the NBA Finals.

Curious, I walked around the back of the sofa and glanced down, eyeing Liam as he slept.  His lips were parted ever-so slightly, his shoulders moving up and down with every breath.  He cleared his throat as I stepped away, concerned that he would catch me watching him sleep. Something he'd never let me live down.

I slowly walked away, making sure I avoided any furniture as I headed towards the kitchenette. The refrigerator was stocked to the brim; from almond milk to two-percent milk, from orange juice to cranberry juice, it held it all. I gently closed the doors and turned to the cabinets, flinging them open as well. Boxes upon boxes of cereal welcomed me. From my favorite, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, to my least favorite, Honey Bunches of Oats; this cabinet held everything. I stepped back, resting most of my weight on my back foot. My hands found their way around my waist as I stood there, head tilted. "Options, options," I muttered to myself, bouncing lightly on my toes.

"Can't read?"

The voice behind me was deep and raspy, as if it were hoarse from yelling.  I turned around, glaring at the figure that sat upright on the couch.

I was met by Liam's profile; the couch angled at an odd way, leaving his face unseen. My eyes ran over his shirtless body as I peered ever so slightly to the right, hoping to get a better view. His skin was a beautiful caramel-like color; If I could tan like that... His shoulders were well defined, his biceps and arms complete. I was completely mesmerized by the sight in front of me. Liam was unaware of my stares as he brought his hand up to his hair, running it through in one fluid motion. A few strands of hair fell lightly over his face.

I blink, reminding myself of his most current comment.  "Are you always an asshole?"

I turn away from him, but not before hearing him add, "No, I usually take a day or two off."

I snort as I lean back, resting my hands on my hips as I contemplate my options.  I nod my head from left to right and chew on my bottom lip, unsure.

"If my opinion matters, Miss Crawford-" I watched as he bent down slightly, pushing the corded telephone along the coffee table, "-I'd advise a number three," He picked up a breakfast, lunch, and dinner menu from the same table, nodding. I bopped on my tippy toes for a moment, nervous as hell. "Six pieces of French toast, bacon, eggs, and a side of orange juice." My mouth watered at the thought.