Page 7 of Cruel Saint


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It was the first of its kind, and many said it would never gain traction, not with all the other options available.

They were wrong.

It made them both more money than they ever dreamed possible and was now played by over half the population of American children and teens every year.

I just wished Samuel had been around to see all the success.

“Idohave my own plane, so it wasn’t too much of a hassle,” Liam’s voice pulled me out of my memories. “Plus, I was up in San Francisco for a few meetings and figured I’d swing by and surprise you.”

Liam swept his eyes over my townhouse, his mouth turning into a frown at the sparse furniture and stacks of unpacked boxes.

I’d managed to assemble a coffee table and a few barstools for the kitchen island. Other than that, there wasn’t much furniture, besides the couch I’d had delivered earlier in the week. Everything I’d bought was still in boxes, including my bed frame. For the time being, I’d been sleeping on my mattress.

“I like what you’ve done with the place.” His tone dripped with sarcasm.

“I’m still moving in.”

I poked him in the ribs, then headed into the kitchen and poured some kibble into Ollie’s bowl, hoping that would distract him from growling at Liam. He never really liked him. Probably because he sensed Liam had never been much of an animal person.

“I haven’t had time to put together all the furniture I bought.”

He sighed, running his hands down my arms as I approached him once more. “I told you, Gin. You could just stay at my place. No need to buy furniture that comes in a box.”

“AndItoldyou,”I stepped out of his hold. “I wanted to be on the beach.”

“You can see the beach from my place. Plus, there are five incredible bedrooms. A pool. Not to mention full-time staff.”

While I’d been surprised to learn he’d bought a luxurious home north of San Diego after I informed him I’d taken a job out here, he insisted he’d been looking into buying a place on the west coast since Melanie moved to Santa Monica a few years ago. My move here just solidified his decision.

“I don’t need a full-time staff. My contract with the team is only eighteen months.”

“All the more reason you should have just moved into my place.”

I parted my lips, but hesitated, not wanting to tell him the real reason I didn’t want to move in with him, despite how convenient it would have been.

It was bad enough I’d sought comfort in his bed a few times in the past when the pain of Samuel’s loss hit particularly hard, something I immediately regretted afterwards. I didn’t want to lead Liam on any more than I already had. Wanted to ensure the lines of our friendship were clear, despite it all.

“It’s important for me to do this on my own. To make my own way. Plus, have you seen how close I am to the beach? I can be on my surfboard within ten minutes of waking up in the morning.”

“My little surfer girl.” He expelled a sigh and brushed a soft kiss on my forehead, then asked, “Where is everything?”

“What are you talking about?”

“All this furniture you need to assemble.” He slid off his tailored jacket and loosened his tie, draping both of them over a barstool.

He barely resembled the twenty-something graduate student studying computer science who wore cargo shorts and t-shirts practically every day, even in colder temperatures. There was a time he hated the mere idea of wearing suits.

Now, at only thirty-seven, he was one of the youngest self-made billionaires in the country and wore suits daily.

“Out in the garage.” I hitched my thumb in the general direction. “But?—”

“Then let’s get working.” He unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves.

“You don’t have to, Liam. I’m planning to put a dent in it this weekend.” I bit my bottom lip. “Or at least on Sunday, since I need to be at the field tomorrow for the game. Although, I’m not so sure how much I’ll get done since Melanie’s dragging me to the opening of some club tomorrow night. Still, I’m sure I?—”

“What? You think you’ll be able to assemble a townhouse full of furniture in a few hours on a Sunday by yourself?”

“Melanie’s staying over Saturday night. She said she’d help before she had to head back up to Santa Monica.”

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