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“And if it isn’t?”
Liam’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t take the bait. “Let’s go, Ms. Wilder. I think you need some sleep.”
twelve
Liam
Thiswomanwillbethe death of me.
I don’t know if I should stay outside of Birdie’s suite tonight or not. I’m worried the moment I go to my room she’s going to try and sneak out to play slots. She’s drunk enough that doing so is one hundred percent possible. Not that I can blame her, the bright lights called my name a few times today too. But once I’ve made sure she’s securely locked in her room, I make an executive decision to stay just outside her door for the next hour, or at least until her room quiets down enough that I think she’s passed out.
Part of me wants to stay in her room to make sure she sleeps on her stomach and drinks enough water, but as she reminded me, I’m not her keeper. And I’m not her friend either. They hired me to be her bodyguard, not her babysitter.
I let out a troubled sigh. I should have asked Eric if Birdie struggled with drinking. If tonight is a regular occurrence, I’d need to up my OT hours. Birdie can pack them away like the guys from the gym I went out with some nights along with Ben—I find it alarming. Granted, tonight is just one night, and she and I did just rekindle our… whatever it is that’s going on between us. Truth be told, if I could have had one drink, I would have. But I’m on the job, and I try not to drink too much anymore, especially to escape from stress.
Since it’s late, and there is nobody around, I slide down the door. My feet ache, so I text Ben to have him order me better shoes and send them to our next stop. He can be my bitch for a second since he got me into this situation. I may be fit, but bodies aren’t meant to stand on their feet all day, especially in a stagnant position.
With the quiet of the hall, and my tired body propped up on the door, my mind wanders. Was it only just this morning I had sex with Cindy? She was certainly bendy.
The way she felt… that thing she did with her hips while she was riding me. I can see it in my mind and instantly my dick is half hard. In my mind's eye, I reach forward to pull back the blonde locks of hair, but when I do, instead of Cindy’s perky nose, it’s Birdie’s round face.
My eyes pop open and I groan. I blame our heated conversation in the hallway after the show.
The way her body felt pressed into mine, all soft curves and heat. Her height made us more evenly matched, and if I didn’t dislike her so much, and if she wasn’t my boss, I would have propositioned her right then and there.Fuck… it’s almost too easy for me to picture what it would feel like if I sunk balls deep into her warmth.
I smack myself across the face.
My little brain has me thinking with him again. Now I need another cold shower. I look at my watch, it’s only been fifteen minutes. I press my ear to the suite door and still hear Birdie milling around. She’s not talking, but she’s doing something.
I will her to go to sleep, but it doesn’t work. I slam my head against the door and for a moment the movement pauses. Then it starts back up again a few seconds later. I guess I’m going to be here for a while.
A loud noise startles me awake.Shit!I fell asleep. Way to be professional.
I stand and scan the hallway, but thankfully there’s no one there. Once I put my ear against Birdie’s door, I think I can hear something. The noise that woke me had to have come from inside her suite. I check my watch and see I’ve only been out of it for a few minutes, but I can’t let that happen again. Worry fills my stomach that something might have gone down inside the suite while I was sleeping. I knock on the door loudly, but no answer.
“Birdie?” I knock again, a little stronger this time. But still nothing.
Without another thought, I make an executive decision that I need to check on her. She’s drunk, and something could have happened. I know for a fact there’s no stalker in her suite, so if the noise did come from inside, it’s because she’s done something.
“Birdie, are you okay?” I yell one more time. When there’s still no answer, I take out a copy of her room key Eric had made for me and slide it in. The light turns green, and I step inside.
My eyes first go to the empty beer cans and little bourbon bottles on the kitchen counter. Oh no, she drank more. The sound of running water from the bathroom keys me into where she is. I stalk toward the door, my stomach now in knots. I hope she didn’t kill herself. Damn it. I suck at my job, and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.
When I reach the bathroom, the door is wide open, and Birdie is lying awkwardly in the tub. She’s still wearing her black crop top, but she’s managed to remove her long skirt. The shower curtain is on the floor, and water soaks her. I try to keep my eyes off her lower waist, which is covered in sheer black high-waisted panties. Those are soaked too, and I can see the outline of her pussy, hair in a perfect triangle. If I wasn’t so concerned about her well-being, my dick would have been extremely happy at the sight.
Her hazel eyes gaze up at me, and a weight lifts in my stomach. Thank fuck she’s alive.
“Hey Liam Miller,” she slurs. “What are you doing in my room?”Hiccup.
“Geez, Birdie. Are you okay?” I get down on my knees and water begins to soak my nice suit. I turn off the shower, it’s ice cold, then move to lift Birdie by her shoulders.
“Never been better.”Hiccup.
“How much more did you drink?”
She groans, acting more like a dead fish in my arms than a human. “Why are you in my room?” She demands again. Her eyes are hooded and mouth sweetly pursed.
“I’m making sure you don’t die. Has anyone ever told you not to drink and bathe? You could have seriously injured yourself.”
