Not If I Date You First

Chapter 37

ADA

"Wow!" I blink, turning in a slow circle in the middle of Liam's living room, trying to take it all in. The city sparkles beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, which take up the entirety of both the north and west walls. Exposed beams run the length of the ceiling, giving it a chic, industrial vibe. A squishy brown leather sofa rests in the center with two matching armchairs on either side surrounding the world's largest coffee table. Glass doors lead out to an enormous patio, filled with trees and shrubbery. A painting dominates one of the exposed brick walls. Iconic actors are painted in strokes of gray on a white canvas, making it look like a page torn out of someone's sketchbook. I recognize Humphrey Bogart, Marlon Brando, Gregory Peck, and James Dean.

"I can't believe you live here," I say.

"This place is all right." Liam comes up behind me and kisses my cheek.

"All right? Yeah, and Buckingham Palace is kind of okay."

Liam chuckles. "Make yourself at home. I'm going to get dinner going."

"How very grown up of you." I turn around, winding my arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. He tastes like spearmint gum and seems so relaxed and happy. All traces of the broken boy I saw at the diner earlier are gone.

Briggs clears his throat behind us. Whoops. I'd completely forgotten he was here.

"I'm going to make myself scarce," Briggs says. "I'll be in the other room watching...um, watching the game."

"Thanks so much, Briggs," I say. "You're a rockstar." The way he corralled the photogs outside my building when he picked me up tonight and kept them from getting too close made me feel safe despite all the chaos.

"No problem." He ducks his head, and I think I see the faintest blush on his cheeks before he turns and walks down the hallway, long mustache swinging behind him.

"Don't let him fool you," Liam mutters. "He's binge-watching the last season of Love Is Blind. I'm not even kidding."

I clap a hand over my mouth. "Awww. I knew he was a big ole teddy bear underneath all that facial hair."

"You better not let him hear you say that." Liam squeezes my hand and strides into what I'm guessing is the kitchen.

My eyes travel over the room. This place belongs in a catalog. For all its luxury though, something's missing. Other than the painting, there isn't much in here that seems like Liam. I scan the walls and bookshelves for photographs. I find only a single framed picture sitting beside a pair of bookends on a polished credenza. It's a photo of Liam and his friends, standing on a beach, arms wrapped around each other, bright smiles on their faces.

"That was a good day." Liam pokes his head around the corner.

"You all are really close." I run a thumb over the picture.

"Yeah." Liam shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "My friends are kind of the only family I've got." He glances up at me. The expression on his face is soul-wreckingly vulnerable.

That's the most personal thing he's said to me, and it makes me hate myself for not respecting his privacy earlier. If Liam knew what I was up to this morning, there's no way he would've just shared something like that with me. He'd probably never speak to me again.

"They seem like a pretty great family." My voice is thick, weighed down by guilt, but Liam doesn't notice. I press the tip of my finger to his smiling face in the photo as I set it back where I found it. "You look happy."