Liam looked up from the screen, amber eyes shaded by a swooping curl of black hair.
His cheek dimpled as though he were worrying the inside of it. “It’d be interesting to know.”
“Maybe we can invite him for a run? Like a ceasefire before the war . . .”
“Ceasefires happen after wars, Ness.”
I wasn’t trying to be literal. “Like the calm before the storm then.”
“Even though I’d rather fight another bear than extend an invitation to run with that man, you might be onto something.”
After the flight attendant removed our empty glasses to prepare for landing, I asked, “I’ve been thinking a lot about something recently. Why didn’t you tell me your father wanted to kill mine?”
Liam’s head jerked in surprise. Had he thought I wouldn’t pick at the scab? That I’d just let the truth of my father’s death slide into the tide of things past and unchangeable? “What made you think of that?”
“Aidan.”
He bobbed his head twice. Then, “Telling you meant confessing I knew your father was going to die . . . that I’d done nothing to stop it.”
That he’d been all for it.
“I didn’t know Callum well, Ness, but Mom used to say he was a good man. She would tell my father that she wished he would be more like yours.” He stopped talking and directed his gaze to the tiny rooftops and blue spots that were swimming pools gleaming below us. “You can imagine what that did to him.” He pressed his lips together for a long, long moment. “To me.”
“I’m sorry you suffered because you didn’t have the right role model, Liam. I’m sorry Heath gave you all these inner demons. That he made you lose faith in people. But I’ve also seen what sort of man you can be when you fight those demons, and that’s the sort of man I want as my Alpha.”
He swept his gaze back to me. “But only as your Alpha?”
“Liam, you just want me”-my eyes drifted to his black V-neck that quivered with breaths-“because you can’t have me.”
“That’s not true.”
“I’m the girl who got away.”
He crossed one ankle over his opposite knee. “You challenge me. You’re the only girl who’s ever dared challenge me. How am I supposed to become a better man if all I get are pats on the back and strokes to my ego?”
I raised a small smile. “I don’t need to date you in order to challenge you.”
“But it would make the challenges and criticism a lot more palatable,” he said, just as the wheels of the plane bumped into the tarmac.
The lap belt dug into my waist, slamming my navel into my spine. “How about we try to be friends? According to Sarah, I’m pretty good at friendship.”
The vein in his neck throbbed and throbbed. “Fine. But I draw the line at mani-pedis.”
I snorted. “Is that really what you think we do?”
“I also think you discuss shoes and tampon sizes.”
“Tampon sizes?”
He smirked.
I took the balled napkin in my cupholder and lobbed it at him. “Ass.”
He batted it away, then picked it up and stuffed it inside his cupholder.
“Besides, according to you, dating and sex interfere with concentration, so you should really swear both off until after the duel.” I smiled, finding a little pleasure in tossing his words back at him.
“Done.”
The smile skittered off my lips.
“How about we grab dinner this week?”
“Liam . . .”
“Friends have dinner together, don’t they?”
“They do, but-”
“But we can’t?” He got up, gripping his overnight bag so tight his knuckles whitened.
“I’ll have dinner, but not just with you.” I stood and swung my backpack onto my shoulder. “We can go out as a group.”
“Does that group include August?”
“I would hope so.”
His pupils pulsed with annoyance. “Fine, but don’t expect me to make small talk with him.”
“I’m not expecting you to talk to him at all.”
“I’ll ask Matt and Lucas. Some of the girls might come too then. Hope that’s okay.”
“As long as I’m not expected to discuss tampon sizes with them, the more the merrier.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It barely creased the corners of his mouth.
After landing, I asked Liam to drop me off at Frank’s.
I realized I hadn’t even phoned ahead to know if Evelyn was home. I assumed she’d be there. I always assumed Evelyn would be there when I needed her.
Sure enough, when I rang the doorbell a little after three, she was the one to sweep the door open, dispersing her familiar scent of menthol and cooking oil.
“Querida!” Her solid arms came around me, and she drew me into her soft chest. “What a beautiful surprise.”
After thoroughly kissing my forehead and cheeks, surely smearing her red lipstick all over my face, she pressed me away and looked me over. Seemed like since we’d moved to Colorado, she was always checking for new bruises or cuts or other signs that I’d been hurt.
When her gaze alighted on my backpack, she asked, “What did Jeb do now?”