“Okay, fine.” He pushed back his stool and headed down the hallway. I grabbed my handbag, then jumped up and followed him.
The door opened onto another expanse of designer perfection. Floor-to-ceiling glass across one wall, with lamps that looked like sculptures placed in strategic spots. In the center was the largest bed I’d ever seen, covered in dark gray linen bedding. One side was rumpled, the sheets twisted and indented. The other side was almost untouched, like it had never been slept in.
Wow. He actually lived here.
I could see a pair of muddy running shoes half-stuffed under the bed. There was a plain black hoodie on a chair by the window and a tea-stained mug on the nightstand. Next to it, a paperback with curling pages and a cracked spine—Neuromancer.
It looked so normal. Nothing like the rest of his space.
“This… this isn’t like your living room.” I dropped my handbag to the floor at the foot of his bed.
“The cleaners stay out of here except for once a week. I prefer it that way.”
The wardrobe doors were open. There was a blister packof medication just visible under a neat stack of papers. Next to it, a box half open, the corner of a photo tucked against it.
And then, thrown over a chair, something so out of place it stopped me cold.
“Liam—” I walked toward it and touched the soft fabric.
“Yeah, I know. It was a gift from Ben. He thought it was funny. But it’s so comfortable.”
My phone meowed.James. I ignored it. There wasno wayI was checking my phone right now.
Liam. Roth. Had. A. Snuggie.
“Well. Now you’ve seen it,” he said.
“Put it on.”
“I will not.”
“Liam.” I folded my arms. “Someone once told me that sometimes you have to stop worrying about looking ridiculous and just do it anyway.” My lips twitched. “In your Flamin’ Hot Cheetos Snuggie.”
He glowered at me.
“Please. For me?” I picked it up and offered it to him.
“Oh, what the hell. Hand it over.” He leaned slightly forward and grabbed it, then began searching in the bundle for the opening so he could slip it on. Eventually, he lifted it and stuck his head into the fabric, his arms rising above his head. His T-shirt rode up with them, giving me a glimpse of firm stomach muscles visually sandwiched between the orange blankie and slim denim-clad hips.
“There. Happy now?” His head popped out and into the hood. He was grinning.Good God, he had a gorgeous smile.Especially when it was natural—genuine—like it was now.
My hand flew to my mouth. I so needed a photo of this. Liam turned around slowly, giving me the full billionaire-in-a-Cheetos-Snuggie experience.
“If I’d known I’d be trying on high-end fashion today too, I’d have ordered more champagne.” He spread his arms in the fleece, mock regal, but there was something unguarded in his expression that sent a small ripple through my chest.
The realLiam.
“It’s very nice.” I looked him up and down like I was genuinely appraising his style choices, not trying to steady myself after seeing his stomach.
Did I sound calm?Unlikely.
He pulled the hood down and stood there grinning at me, his hair mussed up. He looked oddly pleased with himself. “It is, isn’t it? Honestly, Andrea, I can’t believe you don’t have one yourself. You’d never leave the bedroom.”
His voice was casual, but his eyes caught mine for just a moment too long. Neither of us moved. The air was taut. Too taut.
He smiled briefly. “So, another item checked off the getting-to-know-you list.” Then, before I had time to prepare myself, he reached over his shoulder and grabbed a handful of the Snuggie and pulled it up over his back. As it rose over his head, the T-shirt came too, impossible to separate. He threw them both onto the bed and stood there in front of me in his jeans, looking at the tangled mess of materials.
I took in his firm pecs, lean stomach, and perfect V that led like an invitation down under the brown leather belt of his jeans to… well. I knew what was down there. It was faintly outlined through the denim. Mother of God. I tried not to think of it, but my mind seemed to have seized up, fixated on what I was looking at.
