36. April

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

april

I'm not sure what's going on with Liam, but it's been over a week since I've last seen him.

What I see instead are tons of bodyguards everywhere I go. Terry confessed after much scrutiny that there has been a car following us. I also noted the security on the stadium has at least doubled and around my building, too.

If this was because of the paparazzi thing, I'd be throwing a fit. But if it keeps Sterling from popping up out of nowhere and playing the estranged father, I'll agree to whatever provisions Liam takes.

Awkward as the truth is, I appreciate it.

Actually, I've been keen to show him just how much I appreciate it, but he's been nowhere to be found.

Not going to lie, for the first few days, I was thankful for the headspace his absence gave me. Our time apart was just what I needed to remind myself of what we signed up for. Literally.

Uncomplicated, no strings attached, sex.

My fath—Sterling's unannounced visit served one painful purpose: to show me I was breaking the promise I made all those years ago to Mom.

‘Men would be a distraction,' she said. They'd make me lose focus on myself, on my goals. So I kept them at a distance like she told me to.

Well, Mom got one thing wrong in her predictions. Men hadn't accomplished that. One man did.

And missing him was proving as distracting, if not more, than being with him.

So I decided enough was enough, and I was ready to get back on that metaphorical horse. Well, Liam is hung like one, so if he starts saying ‘neigh-neigh', not that metaphorical, eh? Seriously, I need bleach and a mop to deep clean my dirty mind.

It's just like Liam said at the hotel; we've got to keep things separated. He was talking about personal and professional, but I mean emotional and physical.

Callie found it comical when I told her this and only one of us left that conversation convinced. The difference being she catches feelings like she doesn't have a fucking immune system while life has vaccinated me against that shit.

Today marks a strike of nine days of no Liam. Days that I dolled up and hoped in vain to see him at work. Days that I've initiated texts he cut short before I could turn them into sexting. Days that I wanted something more, and he wasn't there to give it to me.

I should be in an exquisite mood. I spent the morning operating with Dr. Sofia at King Edward Hospital as part of my fellowship training. A whole morning mending cracked bones. My favorite thing in the world. I should be buzzing.

But no, here I am, riding the elevator nowhere, parading around with more swing than needed in my hips, in a skirt too tight after living off curries, roast dinners, and fish and chips since I arrived.

It's a pencil skirt with a significant split. I paired it with a button-up, sleeveless blouse to maintain a professional appearance, but the skirt is hella sexy, teetering on the verge of provocative. If I'm aching this bad for Liam, I want him to take one look at me and writhe in agony.

I prance around aimlessly, hoping for Gunn to come find me like he did so many times before. The man always knew where to find me. It's like he's planted a chip on me, I swear.

Fuck's sake. Has Liam turned me into a nympho? Nine days without sex and I'm losing my mind, coming up with conspiracy theories about the man tracking me.

I've played with every single toy from Callie's London's Essentials selection and they haven't been enough to keep me sated. I'm getting grorny . That's the word we made up for when we're grumpy and horny.

My phone rings and I'm grateful for the distraction.

"Hey, girl!"

"Hi, Callie. I was just thinking about you." Well, her toys. Close enough.

"Soooo… You haven't talked much about Liam these days. How are things?" I scoff at her timing.

"More like aren't. He's avoiding me like the plague. I think we're done?" I look behind me and even though the coast is clear, I whisper into the phone and cover my mouth with my hand. "He did say he would fuck me until he had enough. Well, apparently, he had enough." Ouch . That was intended as a joke, but saying it out loud saddens me and unscabbed a wound I didn't even know I had. Am I making a fool of myself? Is he ghosting me and I didn't read the signs? And why does this possibility hurt so much? Awareness hits me so hard, I stumble back.

"Oh, babe." Her tone is very condescending, and to add insult to injury, she laughs at me. "I beg to differ."

"Why? Did your fortune teller tell you so?"

"No, I didn't talk to Marcia about it, but I'm happy to ask her in my next appointment if you want." Oh, Callie . I facepalm myself.

"He's been avoiding me. He's done." It makes sense when I say it out loud, so that's it. He's busy ? Did I really fall for that excuse? "You know what? It could only get messy if we kept that up." I'm selling us both the idea. "Better this way." I don't think anyone's buying into it.

"Yeah, I know. You don't like messy. That's why I took this unboxing very seriously. It's all very tidy, don't you worry."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just these boxes Liam had delivered for you at my place. Can you turn your camera on, A?"

I do and am confronted with at least half a dozen of my mom's paintings. I'd recognize them anywhere, but I still question my eyes and my sanity.

"Callista Marie Maverick. Are those…" I can't put it into words. It'll turn it into a possibility. And once I've considered it, it'll plant a dream into my mind. One I've never dared to contemplate. "They can't be."

"They are. But you know what really got me?"

I'm speechless. I'm unable to put a sentence together. My brain has gone rogue and I've lost control of it. I cannot think straight. I cannot think, period. Callie never depends on other people to carry on with a conversation, and she wouldn't start now.

"Here, babe." She brings the camera closer to the right lower corner of one painting. Then to another. And another. "Do I need to spell it out for you?"

"How many are there?" That's it. That's all I could muster together.

"Thirteen."

I gasp. Loud. My mouth is so dry I almost choke on how raspy it feels to inhale that much air in one go. "He's mental."

"The best of them are, babe. You did good, girl."

I drop my arm and march to Liam's office. Callie is shouting something, but it passes right through me. How did he? And why?

When I get to his floor, I'm greeted by Mia.

"Hi, Dr. Hadden!" On a good day, I have trouble matching her perkiness. Right now, I wouldn't dare try. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Not really, but I just need a minute."

"You know what, pretend I wasn't here and walk right in. I'll make myself scarce." She winks and leaves her desk, giving me more amicability than I've earned.

I don't have enough brainpower to overthink things, so I just go ahead and knock on Liam's door.

"Come in." His voice is terse and unwelcoming, contradicting his invitation.

I open the door a few inches, squeeze through it, and then question myself. Why did I just make myself smaller? "Hi."

His deep frown smoothes as soon as he lays eyes on me. "That's a pleasant surprise. Hello, Doctor." Dropping his pen, he pushes his chair back and takes me in. Before he pulls that half-smile move on me and kills half of my brain cells, I march to his desk and put my phone right in front of his face.

"Why? How?" I don't mean to sound accusatory, but it comes across that way.

Callie's high pitch confirms that I didn't think this through. "Hi, Liam. Nice meeting you. Dude, I've heard so much about you."

His eyes twinkle with mischief and flicker to mine. "Oh, have you? Do tell."

"Callie, show it again." I pull back the phone just in time to catch her signature eye-roll. She can do a one-eighty and her eyes go completely white. It's full on, a bit scary and very Callie.

"Fine," she grumbles, but turns the camera from her to my mother's paintings. The ones my father tainted all those years ago with his ugly signature. The ones appraised at tens of millions of dollars and I made peace with never laying eyes on again.

Those ones.

They are sitting at my best friend's apartment back in New York. Waiting for me.

I turn the phone back to Liam. "Did you buy them?"

His chuckle is sharp and short. "Fuck no. He stole them. So did I."

My arm flaps. Oh, fuck. That's literally a crime scene then.

It's my turn to laugh now. Hysterically. I feel it brewing in the depths of my loins, untangling the mess of knots in my stomach as it makes its way to freedom up my throat. "You did what ?"

"Seemed only fitting." He stands and takes slow, measured steps towards me. "He robbed you of what was left of her. But now you have thirteen of her canvases. When you go back home, you can hang them up in your apartment and surround yourself with her presence."

I raise my hand, signaling him to stop. I need to keep a safe distance from him for us to have this conversation.

"But… why?" My eyeballs shoot in every direction at once and I drive myself dizzy without moving.

"Because I could." His tone is so flat. So matter-of-fact.

As if there couldn't be any other answer to this question and I'm a little dumb for asking it. I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose, summoning clarity as I inhale.

He takes one slow step in my direction and stops. "Because what he did was wrong, appalling really. While this felt right. Or fair, at least." Another small, tentative step. Smooth enough not to trigger my defenses. "And for sure, a much better way to honor your mom's memory than the one you've chosen." He can't possibly mean what I think he means.

"What? As opposed to swearing off men?" Callie pipes in. Goddammit, I forgot to end the call and here she is, excelling at one of her favorite sports: eavesdropping. "Liam? Is this your way to ask my bestie to be your girlfriend? Robbing millions' worth in art? Uhhh… A bit extreme." She pauses before screaming. "I LOVE IT! You have my blessing."

Only her. A thought that more than often crosses my mind when I'm around Calista Maverick. One look at her trouble-making and trouble-asking smile and I'm grinning instead of scolding her.

But I'm still cutting her off. "That'll be all, Cal. Thank you. Same. Bye." I tap the red button before she can protest.

"I like her." Liam chimes in.

"Liam…" I'm at a loss for words. My brain hits a glitch. Feelings override my system, reasoning sheds from my body as if it no longer belongs here.

I'm not sure I can convey this array of feelings into something remotely coherent.

But after what he's done? I'll give it my best try. "That's the most thoughtful…" I chuckle and shake my head, "… and unhinged thing anyone has ever done for me."

"You're welcome. I'm working on recovering more to yo?—"

"Don't." It's me who steps forward now. "Please don't. Those are more than enough. I never dreamt of this. Well, I don't dream; I plan. And never, in my wildest thoughts, did I fathom recovering even a sketch of hers." My heart thrashes in its bony cage and my legs mirror its movement, trembling in the same chaotic fashion. "You've given me plenty. What do I even say? ‘Thanks' doesn't begin to cover it."

"Stop that." A final stride and he obliterates the distance between us.

One hand goes to the nape of my neck, the other to my back, sliding between my shoulder blades. I lean back on his arms and exhale, feeling my body relax in a way it hasn't for nine days.

Liam glues his forehead to mine and keeps wrecking my resolve with his actions and words.

"I don't need your gratitude, April. But I want you to start dreaming. Then tell me the craziest, most outrageous ones, so I can grant them to you. I'll give you everything you want."

"Well, then… How about playing hooky and going home right now with me?"

He straightens us both and twirls me around before pulling me behind him. "Your wish is my command." I giggle as I follow him on unsteady feet. He glances back with a challenge. "But, baby girl, I'm going to need you to start dreaming bigger."