“I wish I could erase my actions, Ness. I wish I could go back in time and let you go without acting like a…a”-even though his voice wavered, his gaze didn’t-“a savage. I am so deeply ashamed of what I did to you.” His voice was soft like the patter of the raindrops tapping against the window.
“Is that why you took a bullet for me tonight? So I would forgive and forget?”
“No.” His lids slid shut for a long second. When they lifted, his eyes were even brighter than before. Wolf eyes. “I’d understand if you never forgave me.”
My chest tightened like a fist.
“Please say something,” he croaked.
Pressing my arms against my abdomen, I said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
He hitched up an eyebrow, as though not truly believing me. But it was true, and he must’ve seen this on my face because his eyebrow slowly fell back, aligning with the other.
“Why did you do it?” I asked.
“Because I was hurt and”-he looked at the painting of the feather over his fireplace-“jealous.”
My arms loosened. “Jealous? Of Aidan?”
His gaze jolted back to me. “What?” A flush creeped over his jaw.
I swallowed. “I asked why you took a bullet for me.”
“Oh.” Clearly, his answer hadn’t been intended for this question. He looked away again and a deep groove appeared between his eyebrows. “I reacted. That’s all.” His lips barely shifted, yet his words stirred the air that had gone very still.
I barely heard his answer over the loud echo of his previous answer. Jealous. “What did you think I was asking you about?”
The tendons in his neck shifted as he sat a little taller, as his shoulders pressed a little harder into the pillows. “Why I lost my mind when you came to my house.” He closed his eyes, then leaned his head back against the wooden headboard. “This conversation is more painful than being shot.”
A breath snagged in my chest. “You likeme?”
His eyes remained closed. He was so still I checked his chest was rising with breaths.
Liam had feelings for me?
“Are you trying to torture me some more?” His voice broke the spell of his confession.
“No. I- Why?”
His eyes flew open and set on me. “Why do I like you?”
“No one else does.”
“First off, that’s not true. Second off, I have no clue. I just do. But apparently the feeling isn’t mutual.” His tone was rough. “So if you can forget I said anything, that would be great.” He turned his face so that he was facing his bathroom door.
“I was scared tonight. Scared that you’d die.” My blood simmered in my veins, heated my skin.
I toed the tufted rug that stretched over almost every inch of the wooden floor and examined the long fibers, trying to decide if they were purple or maroon. In the obscurity, it was hard to tell.
“I don’t hate you, Liam.”
Purple. They were purple. A deep, almost electric purple.
Bare feet flattened the looped filaments and stopped inches from mine. My heartbeats quickened like skittish trout.
The heat from his bare skin permeated the slim divide between us. Warmth meant he was better, unless he was coming down with a fever. Was his wound infected? I didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare look up. But Liam crooked a finger underneath my chin and tipped my face up.
“I almost died tonight, Ness, and that reminded me that I’m not immortal. That none of us are. We might be stronger than humans, but we don’t get to live forever.”
My throat tightened.
“Do you know what I thought about when the bullet hit me?” His pupils throbbed, burned a path straight into me.
“What?” I breathed.
“That I’d hate to die with you thinking I was a bastard.”
I removed my head from its perch. “Liam-”
“Let me finish.” His tone was gentle but tremulous, as though severing the connection between his finger and my chin had shaken his confidence.
I’d been about to say that I didn’t think he was a bastard. At least, not anymore. Not since he’d taken a bullet for me.
“And the second thing that entered my mind”-he combed an unruly lock of hair behind my ear, and I shivered-“was that I didn’t want to die before getting to kiss you.”
I blinked. “You want to kiss me?” If I’d heard him wrong, and he’d said kill me, then…well, that would be so many shades of embarrassing.
“Yes, Ness Clark. I’d like to kiss you.”
It struck me then that Liam didn’t think I murdered his father. I closed my eyes. “Don’t, Liam. Don’t like me. I’m no good. For you…I’m no good.”
My eyelashes dampened. No, no, no…I couldn’t cry. Not in front of Liam. Oh, God, I was such a mess.
“Why shouldn’t I like you?”
“Because…you shouldn’t.” The tears snaked out.
Perfidious tears.
I felt his thumbs swipe over my cheeks, felt his fingers close around the sides of my face, tilt it back toward his.
“You’re going to have to give me a better reason.”
I looked at him then, and my heart beat so wildly it almost tripped right out of my chest. A better reason was the truth.