Chapter 19
922 Words
*Liam's POV*
I was tired.
Genuinely, honestly tired, the kind of tiredness that comes from laughing too much and staying up too late and having the unexpected pleasure of watching Elena Thompson dismantle Andrea with two sentences and a smile before calmly stealing back a bag of pretzels.
I climbed the stairs with that still sitting warm in my chest, said a brief goodnight to nobody in particular, and walked into my room.
The door clicked shut behind me.
Then I heard the lock turn.
I froze.
Immediately, I turned around.
Andrea stood with her back against the door, her hands were still on the lock, looking at me with an expression I recognized immediately and had absolutely zero interest in engaging with tonight.
"Andrea." My voice came out flat. "What are you doing?"
She didn't answer with words.
She crossed the room directly, purposefully, with no hesitation and before I could step back she had both my hands in hers and pressed them firmly against her chest.
I pulled back immediately.
"Feel that, They're hard for you". she whispered, her voice was low, her eyes still placed firmly on mine. "Liam. I need you. Right now. I am..."
"Stop." I stepped back and put distance between us. "Go to your room."
"No Liam...!"
"Andrea." I kept my voice low and even. "Go. To your room NOW."
She moved toward me again, her hands reaching, and I sidestepped with the patience of a man who had had this conversation before and knew every single line of it.
"I already let you stay here," I said. "You needed somewhere close to your institution while you finish your PhD. Fine. I gave you that. A room, a roof over your head. That is the full extent of what I can offer you. Do you understand me?"
"I don't want a room and a roof." She closed the distance again, her hands finding my arms and gripping them tightly. "I want you. I can't just switch it off, Liam. Do you think this is easy for me? Being in this house, watching you with her, pretending I don't..."
"You need to let go of my arm."
"I can't." Her grip tightened. "I cannot just let you go. Not like this. Not to her. I need you tonight. Just tonight. Nobody has to know."
I looked at her hands on my arm. Looked at her face and took a slow breath.
"I'm married," I said.
She let out a short laugh. A very cruel one. Like she had been expecting that and had prepared for it.
"Oh please," she said. "Save it. I know, Liam. I know. You think I haven't figured it out?" She tilted her head. "The whole thing is fake. The marriage, the happy husband routine, all of it ... it's a show for your Dad. So you can get the inheritance." She searched my face. "Ever since I left, you've been scrambling to fill the gap. Don't look at me like that. You know it's true."
I said nothing.
I walked past her, pulled the bedroom door open, and stood beside it.
"Leave," I said quietly.
She looked at the open door. Looked at me. A small smile played at the edge of her lips .....A smile that meant she wasn't even slightly worried.
"No," she said.
And then she reached up, and in one smooth, unhurried motion, she pulled her clothes off entirely and lay back across my bed with the confidence of a woman who had done this before and knew exactly what it did to me.
The room went very quiet.
I stood at the open door.
I should have looked away. That would have been the move... the smart move, the dignified move, the move that the version of me who had just told her to leave would have made without hesitation.
I did not look away.
She was ....look, I am not going to stand here and lie to myself. Andrea was beautiful. She had always been beautiful, and her body had always been the specific kind of trouble that short-circuited my better judgment, and she knew it. She had always known it, which was exactly why she was lying there looking at the ceiling like she had all the time in the world.
"You can't make me leave," she said conversationally, to the ceiling. "You know that, right? And you know you can't hold yourself together when I'm like this." She turned her head and looked at me. Her eyes were steady. Sure. "You never could."
The door was still open.
My hand was still on the handle.
Every reasonable, logical, married part of my brain was standing very firmly on one side of this situation.
The rest of me was losing ground fast.
Her body was — it was a problem. It had always been a problem. The curve of her shoulder, the line of her waist, the way she looked at me like she already knew she had won. My eyes moved across her before I could stop them and every single thing I had just said five minutes ago began dissolving at the edges.
Elena's voice floated into my head from nowhere. "She's not legally married to you. I am".
I blinked.
Andrea was still watching me, patient, unhurried, completely unclothed, completely certain.
My hand dropped from the door handle.
I stared at her for a long moment. A long, silent, incredibly stupid moment.
"Damn," I said.
And I walked toward the bed.
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