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He turned his back on them and walked down the dark hall. He wanted nothing more than to shut out the rest of the world. If this wretched torment was love, they could have it.
“Liam, wait! Please listen…” Raine. He heard her footsteps scampering after him.
He just kept walking.
“For fuck’s sake,” Hammer bellowed. “Pull your head out of your ass. We need to talk this out.”
Liam didn’t answer, simply shut the door between them.
Once alone, he flipped the lock and sank onto the bed. He couldn’t breathe. He felt like he’d run into a solid wall of pain. His chest felt constricted. Panicked, Liam tore open his shirt, convinced he was having a heart attack.
Bracing his elbows on his knees, he bent his head and pulled in a rough breath. Maybe he was overreacting to Raine and Hammer. But no matter whose collar she’d worn or who had taken her to bed first, she would always be Macen’s girl. That knowledge imploded his chest. But hadn’t she told him that from the start?
He trembled. A sweat broke out across his brow. What the fuck would he do next?
Hammer began banging on the door. “Don’t pout like a bitch. Get out here and talk to our woman like a man.”
She’s your woman. “Go fuck yourself.”
“Jesus, you called me a fuckwit last week. If the shoe fits, buddy…”
So now Hammer wanted to insult him on top of it all? What a pal.
“You’re going to wake up tomorrow and feel like an asshole,” Macen continued into his silence.
You’d know all about that…
Hammer sighed impatiently. “You need time? Fine. You know where to find us. I’ll be taking care of Raine’s crushed heart, fucker. Thanks for that.”
Heavy footsteps receded down the hall. A door slammed. Of course his best mate was leaving him and taking the girl. He’d expected that all along.
Silence closed in on Liam. Now what the fuck did he do with himself? He supposed he could go take that shower he’d wanted on his drive home. Alone. He’d climb into bed alone, too. And wake up alone. Maybe it was better that way.
But it felt fucking terrible.
Liam stared at the blank wall in the dark room. Nothing here was his. The mattress and the bedding? Hammer’s. The furniture? Hammer’s, too. Even the four walls belonged to the man. Suddenly, Liam felt as if he didn’t belong here at all. He’d drive to the house he’d bought…but that wasn’t his, either. He’d given Raine the keys. He felt too bloody tired to drive back to the lodge. Besides, her ghost would be in every room. The lodge would be temporary, anyway. Where would he live? He’d closed the apartment in New York.
No idea how long he’d sat there, staring into oblivion. Next thing he knew, Raine eased into the room and sat beside him. Fucking Hammer. The bastard must have given her his key.
He couldn’t deal with her right now, couldn’t bear for her to see him so raw. “Raine, just go back to Hammer. He’ll take care of you. He always has.”
Liam wanted to do right by her. Even now, when his heart was breaking, he tried to find the courage to let her go so she could be happy. After all, it wasn’t her fault she was in love with someone else. She’d told him that before he’d ever once kissed her. He’d been stupid to hope he could snare her heart, too. He had no one to blame but himself.
“I need you every moment of every day, Liam. I’ve been going crazy with worry for you. Please, listen. I’m sorry. This is all my fault—”
“Every time my back is turned you’re fucking him, giving to him in a way you’ve never surrendered yourself to me.” The accusation slipped out, fueled by a mix of fury, ugly jealousy, and fatigue.
“That’s not true,” she protested.
“We both know it is. Whatever you feel, you’ll never love me even half as much as you love Hammer.”
Raine sent him a horrified stare, then threw her arms around him. “If I’ve done anything to make you think that, I’m so sorry. It’s not true. Will you just listen?”
Liam didn’t answer. Maybe she’d feel better saying whatever she needed to. Or maybe she’d finally realize he was right. He’d rather gouge his eyes out than hear this, but he shrugged.
“I was worried sick about you with Gwyneth. I didn’t know what she could do to hurt you more, but I’m sure she could think of something. I couldn’t be with you and I couldn’t do anything for you. I hate feeling helpless. So I began baking and…Hammer found me. He realized I’d worked myself up. He helped me get out of my head and—”
“What did you bake?” Liam wasn’t even sure why he asked.
“Sugar cookies. And muffins.”
