4. Shane

What a funny little mage.

Liam and I were seated on James' couch in the living room, with some movie playing on the TV. James and Ollie had long since gone to bed.

Liam was staring intently at the back of a beer bottle. I doubted he was reading the nutritional information; it seemed more like he was hoping to find the answers to his problems magically printed there.

Throughout dinner earlier, he seemed to evade any questions Ollie asked about his situation or problems at home.

Instead Liam politely asking about James' BBQ business, Ollie's shop, and the recipe for their mashed potatoes.

Granted, the mashed potatoes were particularly good tonight, but judging from all the bags and boxes I saw in the backseat of his car earlier, Liam had bigger problems than uncovering the secret to James' potatoes.

Clearly, Liam came over here hoping to stay over, but for how long, I didn't know.

He did thank Ollie for his offer to stay the night. But looking at the bags and boxes I saw at the backseat of his car, it looked like he was wanted to stay a little longer than that.

Liam never asked Ollie during dinner, nor did he bring it up during the first movie we watched together.

In the middle of the third movie, James admitted defeat, saying he had to get up early, and Ollie followed suit, after repeatedly asking Liam if he needed anything else.

Liam simply said he wanted to finish the movie and remained on the sofa.

Was he planning to use watching movies as an excuse to stay over rather than just asking directly?

Why wouldn't he just say what he wanted? It was obvious he had something on his mind.

At first, I was curious to see how this would unfold, so I stayed throughout dinner and the movies. Plus, I still needed to talk to him about our bodyguard situation, which, as expected, we didn't get a chance to do.

After James and Ollie left, and a few beers later, he finally opened up—or rather, began to complain—about his entire family and the predicament he found himself in. He rambled being instructed by his family to move out, lacking any funds, and feeling lost without a place to go.

It was like he transformed into a different person, a complete one-eighty from the stiff, polite demeanor he had during dinner.

Honestly, I kind of preferred him this way—more genuine with his emotions, less guarded.

He was even kind of funny when he was talking about his family. It piqued my curiosity and made me more invested in Liam's situation.

"Hey, grab me another beer," Liam slurred, poking me on the shoulder.

Reluctantly, I stood up from the couch, grabbed another six-pack from the fridge—the second one of the evening—and returned to my seat on the living room sofa beside Liam.

I didn't want him to drink any more, but he seemed to open up and relax with each sip. I'll just keep an eye out if he seemed like he was drinking too much.

From what I could tell, he could maybe handle another half bottle. If he wanted more, I'd swap it out for water or something.

Liam let out a long sigh, staring blankly at the empty beer bottles in front of him, his mind wandering once more.

Without bothering to look at me, he extended his hand, leaving it suspended in mid air. When I didn't move, he finally turned to me with a frown.

Resigned, I withdrew a bottle from the pack, popped the top, and placed it in his open hand.

He promptly downed the whole thing, and I winced as he banged the bottle on the glass table in front of us.

Without missing a beat, he resumed talking about his family. "It's not fair. You think so too, right? Right?" He looked at me expectantly.

I nudged the pack of beer closer to my side of the table, far, far away from him, and handed him the leftover popcorn, hoping it would absorb some of the alcohol in his body.

"No, it isn't," I replied genuinely.

I was surprised by my response. The whole situation with his family was ridiculous. Given what I knew about Ollie from James, and now this?

It definitely was a whole different world from shifters. In our community, family and loyalty to our pack mates were highly valued.

While there were occasional horror stories about dysfunctional packs with bad leadership or toxic pack culture, most of the time, the community was tightly knit.

Liam buried his face in his hands once more, muttering something about a cousin named Luca. I didn't need to ask him what it was about; I had already overheard it earlier, probably around his third bottle of beer.

Placing a consoling hand over his, I glanced up the staircase, wondering whether I should help Liam out a little, maybe talk to Ollie and James on his behalf.

Something was clearly holding him back from reaching out to his cousin, and given his current situation, I was worried he might end up sleeping in his car for the foreseeable future.

Huh. Was I really genuinely worried about him? I hadn't expected that.

Usually, I avoided involving myself in other people's problems, especially those I barely knew. There was something about Liam that made me want to make sure he was okay.

I noticed it had been quiet for the past few seconds and turned to see him gazing intently at my hand over his.

He began moving his hand upward, tracing my arm, then placed his hand over my chest and leaned forward.

Before I knew it, his lips lightly brushed over mine in a gentle touch, barely grazing my lips, almost as if he were savoring the sensation.

Yet, it was warm and sweet, enough to stir the fox within me. His closed eyes and flushed cheeks tempted me to draw him closer for a deeper kiss, to taste him better for myself.

I found myself leaning in. He smelled so enticing—a faint citrusy scent, with something else, something familiar that I couldn't quite place. It was right on the tip of my tongue.

But beneath that intriguing scent was the unmistakable smell of alcohol.

Reluctantly, I placed my hands on his shoulders, stopping anything from going further. There was a flash of hurt in his eyes that felt like an arrow piercing through me.

A strange thought crossed my mind: if I were to kiss him, I didn't want it to happen like this, with him not sober, with the possibility that he might not remember what happened between us when he woke up in the morning.

But what could possibly happen between us? He was next in line to lead the McGowan coven, and from what he said earlier during his drunken outburst, the family's expectations weighed heavily on his shoulders.

And who was I to him other than his hired bodyguard? A temporary one at that, and one who couldn't wait to leave town once I sold my house.

I shook my head at the absurd thoughts and unrealistic scenarios flooding my mind.

Who in their right mind would think about such things about someone they had just met? Let alone will be having a professional relationship with in the very near future. I must be more tired than I realised.

Suddenly, I felt a weight on my shoulder. Liam was leaning against it.

"Sorry," he mumbled, sighing deeply.

He reminded me of one of those rabbits from those old battery commercials—energetic and seemingly unstoppable, until suddenly winding down when the batteries ran out.

I pursed my lips and slowly wrapped an arm around his shoulders, patting his back gently. He felt warm, almost feverish, and I could sense his uneven, shaky exhales.

"It"s okay," I whispered, rubbing circles on his back.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, and when I looked down, I noticed he had drifted off to sleep in my arms.

His breathing was shallow, but he appeared more relaxed and peaceful than earlier—as if releasing all his pent-up stress and tension had brought him some relief.

I guess we wouldn't be talking about our situation tonight. I might as well come back in the morning.

I tried to stand to fetch him a blanket, but he clung tightly to my shirt, his grip surprisingly strong.

Carefully shifting our bodies into a more comfortable position, I managed to retrieve the blanket from the armchair next to me and draped it over him.

As I touched the area between his brows and gently rubbed the soft flesh beneath his eyes, Liam curled his body against mine like a cat, sinking further into my embrace. I felt a strange, unfamiliar sensation in my chest once again.

"What a funny little mage," I mused softly.

Books. That was the familiar smell I couldn't place earlier—the comforting smell of books.

It transported me back to my youth, to a time when my dad was still alive.

He used to take my brothers and me to the library to hang out, treating it like a makeshift daycare until he got off work.

It was a different time, before James, Cliff, and I settled down in Fox Haven. Before we had to constantly move, finding our next home and taking odd jobs to make ends meet.

The scent reminded me of a simpler time in the past, and I wanted to hold on to it. I wrapped my arms tightly around the source, not wanting to let go.

But it was fading rapidly, as if moving away. Wait. Could scent move? I clutched it even closer, burying my face into it and inhaling deeply.

"Ah!" I gasped as a sudden sharp pain shot through my rib, forcing me to let go.

I opened my eyes, still groggy, and saw a figure standing in front of me. I squinted my eyes and saw Liam moving his arms in some sort of complicated motion.

I struggled to sit up, attempting to reach out and stop Liam, who was only making my headache worse with his jerky arm movements.

At the same time, I rubbed my eyes with my other hand. It was way too early for this.

Liam retreated his hands away from my reach, now forming some kind of shape with his fingers. I gazed at him blankly, stifling a yawn.

He clicked his tongue, seemingly disappointed about something, and shifted his stance, placing his left foot forward and adopting a more exaggerated posture, while repeating the same movements with his arms.

I blinked, trying to understand what this mage was doing so early in the morning. Was something supposed to happen?

Liam glared at his outstretched hands, his eyes narrowed with annoyance and frustration. He shook them once, then twice, before raising his palms again in front of my face.

"Is that some sort of new hokey pokey dance or something?"

"Ugh! Shut up," Liam snapped, throwing a cushion at me, which I easily caught. Despite his crossed arms and glaring expression, I couldn"t help but chuckle.

"Is it some type of yoga then?" I teased.

"It"s a spell!" Liam exclaimed.

"What for?"

"To protect myself against you!"

I raised a brow. When I didn't respond, Liam continued, clearly frustrated that I was still trying not to laugh. "You were... doing things!"

"What, weren't we just sleeping?" I asked innocently, running my hand through my hair. Liam"s pointed glance at my lower body answered my question.

I smirked. "Don't flatter yourself. What, don't you get morning wood? It's completely normal."

Liam immediately turned red and opened his mouth, seemingly ready to hurl a slew of vulgarities at me.

However, he closed his lips into a tight line, as if trying to prevent whatever he wanted to say from escaping. "You took... advantage... of me," he finally managed to say, each word uttered slowly and with difficulty, as if he wanted to insert a curse word or two in there.

Leaning back on the sofa, I stretched my arms over the backrest, giving him a lazy smile.

It was nice to see that he wasn"t all stiff and square, personality-wise, that he could be like this even without downing almost half a dozen beers.

Before I could tease him further, I felt a strong hand gripping my shoulder, firmly tight enough to leave a bruise.

"My brother did what?" James"s voice was laced with warning, even a hint of a threat.

If it were possible, James gripped my shoulder even tighter, to the point where his weight pressed down on it, causing me to sink further into the sofa.

"Ow! Ow!" I exclaimed, swatting James away. Why did so many people want to hit me this early in the morning? "Nothing happened! He kissed me first, but nothing else happened. Relax!"

James finally loosened his grip. What a monster.

Was it all the meat he was eating that made him so strong? Or some kind of special barbecuing technique that helped build muscle?

I rubbed my bruised shoulder. I can't believe he could still make me feel like a little kid, even at this age.

Suddenly, the front door opened and then closed abruptly. Liam must have run out. Annoyed, I quickly stood up, pushed James aside, and hurried outside after Liam.

I found him sitting on the front porch steps, arms wrapped around his knees with his head bowed.

"Please go away. I'm already embarrassed enough," he said without looking up.

Sighing, I settled onto the step below him, realizing I might have been too harsh earlier.

Given his emotional state last night, he didn"t need anyone—especially a stranger—teasing him so early in the morning.

Although, it wasn't a bad feeling to know that he was still sober enough to remember our kiss. But, looking at him now, still refusing to meet my gaze, I quickly pushed any thought about his lips to the back of mind.

"Hey," I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. I waited until he looked at me before continuing, "Let"s get some breakfast."

"Why should I go with you?" he asked, finally peeking out from his arms with a slight pout. He looked a bit cute.

"What, would you rather go back in there and face their questions?" I asked, prompting him.

Because I didn't. The memory of James' grip on my shoulder was still fresh, along with the pain. I didn't want to go back into that house just for James to pressure me into admitting something I didn't do to Liam last night.

Liam looked at me for a while, then finally stood up. "Fine."

I got on my bike while he followed me in his car, with his bags and boxes still in the backseat, to my favorite diner in town.

Once seated inside, we didn't exchange a single word. Liam"s eyes seemed glued to the menu, avoiding any eye contact with me.

The waitress, who had been waiting for us to order for the past five minutes, was starting to get annoyed. "He'll have the deluxe platter," I finally said, ordering for him.

Liam sheepishly folded his menu and handed it back to the waitress.

I couldn't help but notice the force with which she wrote our order on her notepad, as if she were taking out her frustration on the paper, imagining it to be a certain customer she was serving right now. "And you?" she asked curtly, not bothering to look up from her notepad.

"The usual," I replied, glancing at Liam, whose face was a little pale, still showing signs of being hungover. "And two coffees. Black. Make them strong," I added.

"I know why you"re being so nice to me," Liam said when the waitress left, fidgeting with the cutlery on the table before finally looking up at me.

"Oh?"

"But, I have a lot going on right now…" Liam"s eyes darted everywhere but at me.

I tilted my head, wondering what he was getting at.

"You listened to all my rambling last night, and you stayed with me the whole night. And now we're having breakfast," he explained, the last part barely a whisper that I wouldn't have heard if I didn't have my shifter hearing.

Damn. I ran my fingers through my hair, unsure how to explain it to him.

"Look, I think there's some misunderstanding here, so let me clear this up. One, I'm not looking for anything right now. I just got out of a relationship. Two, any normal person would do those things for someone in need. And," I looked at him straight, making sure he understood me.

Liam"s eyes widened, anticipating my next words. Feeling uneasy about saying it, I added, "I'm just assigned as your bodyguard. It's my job to take care of you."

Liam groaned, leaned his head back against the booth, and closed his eyes. I didn't want him to feel embarrassed, but I also didn't want to start off on the wrong foot or with any misunderstandings.

But why did I feel so guilty about laying it all out like that? And it seemed like he was surprised when I mentioned the word ‘bodyguard'. Did he not know about this?

I leaned forward and before I could say anything, a camera flash went off.