39. Liam

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

liam

We break in every room and piece of furniture of April's home. My all-time favorite being her private patio, where I took her on the sunbed, ass up, face down, biting into the cushion not to draw the neighbors' attention.

We fuck, cuddle, eat and I get much better updates from her like this than in a meeting room. It's decided. We will only do catch-ups naked in bed from now on.

Max's recovery keeps beating all records and they're discussing letting Max have the first kick of the next home game just to please the fans. The sponsors won't be too upset either.

Yeah, yeah, good for the guy. We have a Premier League to win, blah-blah-blah. But is it really? I worry about how short that will cut my time with the doctor if he keeps getting better this fast. Honestly, I'm starting to believe that a healthy knee is not as important as people make it out to be.

The sun is making its way up when we fall asleep exhausted, sweaty, limbs tangled together.

She doesn't say anything about wanting to sleep alone this time and I dream of waking up to an April that sees what I do: we're inevitable.

"Preston?"

What the fuck? "No, April. Liam!"

I'm ripped from deep slumber by April calling me by another man's name.

That is not what you want to hear when you're lying in bed naked with a woman. My dick, that was rock hard and merrily nudged between her ass cheeks while we spooned in our sleep, deflates.

An elbow in the pit of my stomach finishes waking me up, but then she shushes me. She shushes me. My ego takes a bigger hit than my gut at that, and I open my eyes to see that she's on the phone. I grab it from her hand, pressing the mute button.

"If you say another man's name while in bed naked with me, I'm going to hear what he has to say to you. Put it on speaker or I'll make sure he knows you're not alone."

She rolls her eyes at me but does what I ask.

"Hi, Pres. I just woke up. What time is it back home?"

"Fuck if I know. I've been drunk for days." Preston's voice is unrecognizable. Slurred, rough, dark.

April tears off the phone from between us and catapults herself from bed, away from me. She didn't have to. I'm not that much of an asshole. I know I'm not privy to his confession.

I can't reconcile that defeated voice to the man threatening me a few weeks ago.

She moves to the living room, poorly wrapped in the bedsheet that's haphazardly pooling at her feet. I give them some privacy and go brush my teeth and wash my face in the bathroom.

I figure I've given them enough time and go back to the bedroom to scour the floor for my underwear.

That's when I hear it.

"Of course I'll come home, Pres. I'll pack now and get on the next flight."

Well, turns out I am that much of an asshole because I stand butt naked at the open door, drilling a hole at the back of April's head, listening to her every word.

"Hey, now. Listen to me. We'll figure it out. Together. I'll be there tonight. I gotta go now."

Tonight?

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" My voice thunders and April bounces from the sofa.

"Jesus Fucking Christ, Liam! You scared me to death." Her hand clutches the sheet tighter around her breasts.

"Answer me."

"There's a situation back home. I have to go. Max is in great hands with Dominique, but I can send another doctor if you want someone by his side twenty-four-seven. I really don't think that's necessary, though."

It's Dr. Hadden who answers me, not April. Which makes this really awkward since I'm still blocking her way to the bedroom, naked.

"The situation being Dr. Jett is so drunk he can't swim his way out of the barrel?"

Feisty Dr. Hadden huffs and licks her front teeth. I can see the strength it takes for her to keep a leveled head right now.

"You were not supposed to hear any of that, so I'd appreciate your discretion."

Appreciate my? "Cut the bullshit, April. Talk to me."

"Can't." She tries to bypass me. Left, right, left again. She zigzags as she measures which side she has a better chance of squeezing by, but I'm filling every bit of the door frame I can. Hands on my waist, elbows out, legs spread open, and, of course, dick hanging. Where the fuck are my boxers?!

I grab her by the shoulders, lift her up, and sit her down on the bed we should've never gotten out of.

"You're not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck is going on."

"Liam, your money can't fix this."

Ouch.

"Preston is my family, and he needs me right now. His pregnant wife is gone. She left only a note behind saying the baby is not his and he shouldn't try to find her." Fuck me. I tip my chin in, digesting that. "She also left behind an amazing five-year-old that he's in no condition of raising by himself right now. So I'm going home."

"Now? You can't leave now." Work, brain. List a thousand good reasons.

"I can and I will. I'm sorry, Liam, but I quit. Effective immediately. I appreciate all you've done. I do."

That's it. I'm erasing the word ‘appreciate' from the English language. Burning all dictionaries with it at the stake.

"April, you can't just pack and leave like this." Stubborn little thing that she is, that's just what she starts doing. "Can you just wait?" I can't think straight if she's packing.

"No, I can't. And I can't afford to think too much about it or factor you into this decision. I just have to go. We knew this would end soon enough."

That's where she's wrong. I don't know shit anymore, only that now is way too soon and I haven't had enough. Not even close. I need more.

She doesn't look at me. She's on a mission and can't be bothered by my presence. I've never seen someone pack so fast in my life.

"Preston was the first person to believe in me. I am where I am today because he held all the doors open for me to walk through. I owe him this and more. So no, I can't wait because he needs me now."

April goes into the bathroom, tips everything she could carry from there inside the suitcase and pauses. "I can barely look at you right now." That's not true. She's not looking at me at all. "After all you've done for me, the trouble you went through for us. It was fast, but boy, was it intense." Her lip curves in an almost smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Thank you. I felt things I thought I'd never allow myself to feel. But you are you. You see a boundary and you walk all over it to get what you want."

Her eyes finally meet mine, but they are void of any emotion that makes April the woman who I'm falling for. The woman who's hammering my recently acquired heart with her words, poorly timed decisions, and inconvenient zip code. "Don't get me wrong. I'm happy you didn't let me push you away. I had the time of my life, Liam."

She changes into some fancy joggers, high heels—obviously—and a stretchy purple tank top without a bra. She's so effortlessly beautiful. April zips all her luggage closed and lines them up between us. A boundary I'm supposed to respect this time around. "We thought we had more time, but we always knew this had an expiry date. It just came sooner than we thought. So thank you, Liam. And goodbye."

"You can't give me a day?" I could—and would—beg, but I keep my voice as sharp as usual.

"No."

"You want me to go? That's what you really want?" I'll honor what I promised her yesterday, even if it tarnishes my own dreams.

"Yes." Her voice is weak and unconvincing. If she wants me to let her have it her way, she's going to have to do better than that.

"Then look me in the eye when you say it," I order.

Time freezes and her chin wobbles for a nanosecond before she purses her lips tight to keep her face from telling on her. Too late, baby girl.

"I need to go home," she manages to say with some poise. But then her shoulders slump and she pleads, "Please let me go home, Liam."

April never says she wants to go. I'm too well versed in the difference between duty and desire to let that go unnoticed.

"Go." I sweep my clothes from the floor and make the walk of shame for the first time in forty-two years.

Never too late, I guess, since I'm having my heart broken for the first time, too.