37. Liam

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

liam

It's game day, so we head back to the stadium early in the evening and, against my better judgment, we're forced to join in the celebrations when Chelsea tears Arsenal a new one and hammers home a spectacular win.

I shouldn't have left her bed, and now I'm left to bear the consequences of that stupid mistake. My mood tanks with each passing minute that I'm not with her.

George drove me here first, then Terry brought her in. I watched the match from my booth while she was at the sidelines of the field, along with the team staff. As always, I've taken all the precautions to protect our privacy.

I'm heading back to my office to meet Noah and gloat over our win some more while we wait for everyone to get ready to hit the club.

Noah has already helped himself to my good scotch. Typical. What is not, is how the epitome of slouchiness is suddenly sitting upright on my couch.

I eye him suspiciously before I take a look around, finding the door to my bathroom open, the lights on, with Mia inside. Of course, she is the reason for the man figuring out how to keep his spine straight.

She always comes in here to freshen up and get pampered before we go out after a match. I'm always busy after the game with the handshakes, the press, meeting the team no matter the outcome, so I'm happy to give her the space and privacy.

I check my watch. She's usually ready by this time. Something must have held her back today if she's still in there.

"Hi Mia, just letting you know I'm here, but there's no need to hurry." I lower my voice and turn to the peeping Tom. "Why are you in here? Couldn't you wait anywhere else in the entire fucking building and give the girl some privacy?"

"Fuck off, she just came back. She wasn't in your bathroom when I got here." His eyes narrow with accusation. "You share your bathroom with your assistant and you tell me that I was the one begging for a lawsuit, brother?" I just laugh in reply because I know it will piss him off more than any worded answer. I pour myself a dose and join him on the other side of the sofa, mirroring his stance, because I know how to sit properly.

A few minutes later, Mia exits the bathroom and my brother starts drooling. She's always generous with her layers of makeup, but tonight its darker tones make her look even older than usual. She's almost unrecognizable. "Sorry, Gunn. I left my eyeliner in the car and ran there to grab it, so I came back for some final touches."

"No need to apologize. The bathroom is all yours post-matches. If you ever need more time, just text me and I'll keep the creeps out." I add with a nod in my brother's direction.

Making people uncomfortable is a talent I don't take for granted. Mia will make me pay for this later, but right now? So worth it. Two birds with one stone. Neither of them blinks or fakes a laugh, they both glower at me.

"You look lovely, by the way, Mia." I say because she does and to break the awkwardness.

She huffs an insincere "thanks", before saying, "I should go."

"Don't be silly. Everyone is still getting ready. Get yourself a drink and sit with us."

I don't think I can list enough things in this life that scare me to use all five fingers in one hand. But the smile slowly spreading on Mia's face? That shit is sending chills down my not-so-straight-anymore spine right now.

"Actually, Dr. Hadden looked more than ready." Motherfucker is pure perkiness and sarcasm pointing her thumb back to the door. "I'm going to keep her company and see what's going on with her life. New girl in town, I'm sure she could use a friend." Noah chokes on my Macallan and it dribbles down his chin. "See you later, boys." She's turned on her heels and is out the door before I can conjure something to stop her.

My brother reverts back to his floppy form, spreading himself all over the sofa, seeming to be enjoying this more than if his team had won the game.

The club is ours for the night, security is tight, and there are no paparazzi in sight. Everyone is having a great time. Some more than others.

I don't know what the fuck happened when Mia left my office, but she and April are having way too much fun on the dance floor. Right now? I equally trust Mia and worry for her wellbeing if she bonded with April over her knowledge of me.

April can move—I shouldn't be surprised; I've seen her in the bedroom. I stress over if I'm staring too hard and giving too much away. Someone might notice and put two and two together. Noah stares just as hard at Mia but that serves me no consolation. I turn around, incapable of simply looking in another direction if she's within my sight.

I down the last of my scotch and invite Noah to the garden. We both enjoy a celebratory cigar now and then. Well, in his case, tonight it's a mournful one.

After my first puff, the sight of my brother leaning against the wall poses as the perfect opportunity for a cross-interrogation. "So why haven't you asked Mia out yet? That's the whole reason I hired her."

"You hired her to piss me off," he fires back.

I don't bother removing the cigar from between my teeth before I speak again. "That too, Noah. I can multitask."

"Nah, man. It's one sided, I think." Pussy. How convenient not to be his optimistic self when he chooses. "And I'm too old for her, anyway."

What the fuck? Now I take the cigar out of my mouth to enunciate my words clearly. "Is that what you think of me and April? I'm too old for her?"

As if summoned, the woman who is not too young for me— hell, she might even be perfect for me —and Mia burst through the doors, giggling, arms tangled together. How the fuck do women become best friends after one bathroom visit?

"There you are!" Mia points at me. "Can I have mine?"

She knows me and my post-match traditions well. I hand her the cigar, cutter, and lighter. That's another one of our winning night routines. Mia always has one of my cigars.

The four of us chat about the game and tease Noah for being a sore loser, and somehow, I end up standing between April and Mia.

April and I steal glances at each other and the teenager in me is living his best life. It's fucking ridiculous. My pinky rubs against her hand and our eyes lock while Mia and Noah banter away. Then some motherfucker with a cell phone starts filming us, its bright flashlight right in my face, pulling me back to the real world.

"The Gunn brothers in action! Which one is ours, Liam? The brunette?" the stranger leers.

April hides her face with her hair, turning around in such a panic that she can't push the door open.

Then Mia does the unthinkable.

"EEEERRRR!" She mimics a game show buzzer when you get the answer wrong. "It's the redhead." She hangs from my neck and kisses me, open mouth, but God be merciful, no tongue. I'm frozen in place while April figures out the door handle and the man I'm about to murder cheers us on.

Terry appears out of nowhere, chokeholds the paparazzi wannabe until he passes out, deletes everything, and crushes the phone under his boot. "Gunn! What the fuck? I ran here as soon as I spotted the motherfucker. Was doing my rounds. You were supposed to text if you came out."

If I came out with April , but he's discreet enough to leave it implied. Which I didn't. Her coming out too was just a happy coincidence, so I take the schooling because I should've texted him the moment she joined us.

"Thanks, Terry. My bad." I turn to Mia, who's wiping her mouth clean on the back of her hand. I take no offense.

She points a menacing finger up at my face. "I'm washing my mouth with bleach and we're never, ever talking about this." She looks at the door April just left through. "Did you see her face? Poor thing. Let me go check on her." She turns to me again, maniac eyes full on. "NEVER, Gunn, do you hear me?"

"Fine by me. Mia, just… Thanks?"

"YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT IT!" she yells and I raise both arms in surrender.

Time to face Noah. I'm still figuring out what to say—kind of disappointed I'm unable to crack a joke right now—but I think I should start saying there was no tongue involved. I don't get to finish my line of thought before the fucker sucker punches me square in the jaw.

"What the fuck, Noah?" I'm disorientated.

"What the fuck, Liam?" He's seething.

"Get your shit together, man. I'm going to look for April." I suck the coppery taste from my ripped lip.

I search for her around the club, to no avail. There is no sign of April. I stop by the bar to get a tall glass full of ice and station myself on the second floor balcony to keep an eye out for her. I hold the cold glass against my lip and suck on one of the cubes, clinging to the hope that my face won't get too swollen.

After a torturous amount of time—maybe a minute or two—I spot April and Mia at the ground floor bar. The barman is serving a tequila and my mind goes ‘that's my girl', but it's Mia that downs it—not before she rinses her mouth with it and gargles like it's fucking Listerine.

I don't even remember going down the stairs, but I'm out of breath once I get to them. Mia sees me first and gasps when she sees my cut lip. "Gunn, what happened?"

April turns around and her hand inches up to my face, but she brings it back down, along with her eyes. She looks too conscious about how exposed we are.

"Ran into an altercation outside." I can taste the blood again. The cut must have reopened. "But it's all been handled and there's nothing to worry about." I deliver that second part, looking at April, trying to reassure her.

She closes her eyes a little longer than a blink. She's thanking me. I don't know if I've learned to read her or if I'm imagining things, but my message changes her stance.

"Let me see that under the light." She sounds very Dr. Hadden, and I take her hand, letting her take the lead. We don't go far. I stand next to a bright neon sign at the end of the counter and she inspects my face. "What happened?"

"It's been dealt with. Terry arrived right after you left."

She knocks on the counter and asks the closest barman for ice in a clean cloth. Her voice is firm and authoritative. That request sounded a lot like a demand, and the barman is back in no time with it.

"Liam, you're not God." I arch my brows in offense, and she almost smiles. "I appreciate your efforts, but you can't control everything and everyone."

She cleans the cut with a wet napkin, fingers light as a feather. Her concentrated face is too gorgeous and I focus on my breathing to give my self-restraint a fighting chance. "Hold this to your lip." April hands me the ice wrapped in wet cloth, her stare climbing its way back to my eyes. "And stop looking at me like that."

"Fuck if I can help it." I don't think I have a choice in falling for this woman.

Noah clasps my shoulders, preventing our talk from going any further. "Hey, how's that lip? I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me—" He makes his way from behind me to my side. "Oh. Hi, April. Didn't see you down there."

She plasters a smile to acknowledge his stupid joke. "Wait, you hit him? Not the guy with the phone?"

"Show me some respect, woman." I interject. "Of course that waste of oxygen didn't take a swing at me. But yes, my dear brother sucker punched me."

"Why?" Her puzzled stare jumping from me to Noah is too cute. Fucked, I'm fucked.

My brother dodges her question by asking her something else. "Who's that drunk talking to Mia? I've seen him before."

"Oh, that's Dom. You two met at that charity game." She takes a double take on them and adds to Noah's worries. "Let's go rescue Mia. He gets very handsy when he drinks too much."

"Go ahead, man. Punch someone who deserves it for a change." But then the other shoe drops, along with my hand with the makeshift ice pack, and my head spins to April. "How the fuck do you know how handsy Physio Guy gets?"

"Excuse me? You just kissed Mia." She grabs my hand and presses the ice back against my lip, a lot more forcefully than before. "You don't get to be jealous right now, mister."

I'll need some kind of surgery to remove the smug grin stuck on my face.

My voice must come out distorted through all those teeth on display, but April understands me just fine when I say, "I didn't kiss her. She kissed me. To save both of our asses."

April crosses her arms, pouty and childish, and turns her back to me. I'm eating her spite by the spoonful. She must know a good plastic surgeon to recommend, right? Because this conceited smile is going nowhere; it's only growing bigger. Someone will need to surgically remove it from my face.

She pivots on her heels with a finger already in the air, wielding it in my face. "Don't you dare be pragmatic right now. Another woman kissed you and you didn't seem a tiny bit bothered. Or even sorry. So back the hell off because I have every right to be pissed about it, okay?"

"Okay," but fuck, it's physically impossible to put on a straight face when she's showing her hand for the first time. Does she even realize it?

"First of all, I am sorry. If it was the other way around and I saw another man kissing you, I'd be in jail." Her eyes find mine and soften a little.

"Second, that was Mia, so no, I'm not bothered. I'm downright disturbed. In dire need of selective amnesia to block, to purge that moment out of my mind." April kind of, almost, smiles at my theatrics and I run with that win. "I don't want or see any other woman, April. There's only you."

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and my arm stops midair, on its way to set that lip free. It's mine to bite, lick, suck. Stretch it around my…

"Tell you what. We can trust Noah to keep Mia safe. So how about we call it a night and go back to your place?"