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“Yep. And to Ash, and to Dara. I’m betting Finn did it first then all the guys got together and were like, yo, bro, you can totally get chicks to wife up if you pretend it’s fake at first then give them amazing sex—”
“We are not—” I start, blushing bright red, which only makes Keely laugh.
“All I’m saying is, nobody’s surprised by that, okay? Liam told you it wasn’t forever. Fine, that’s not a big deal. Turns out you’re pregnant though, and that means he’s not going to let you go anywhere, not with the precious cargo on board.”
I slump back against the pillows, feeling exhausted, a headache pressing at my temples. “What do I do?”
“You come back to Boston.” She says it gently. Not needling. Not pressuring. Just matter-of-fact. “I’m not going to force you. I only came because Liam asked me, and because I could use a mini-vacation.”
“You might not, but he will.”
She shrugs. “I can’t control what Liam does and doesn’t do. My plan is so hang around here, sightsee, get to know my new sister-in-law, then head home. If you come with me, that’d be amazing, and I think it would be the right decision. But I’m not here to force you.”
Somehow that makes it worse. She sounds so reasonable—so unlike Liam—and it makes me want to trust her.
But she’s a member of that family, and I can’t let myself forget it.
“I’m staying here.” I say. “Whether Liam likes it or not.”
“That’s your call.” She sits up straight, smiling. “But for now, what do you want to do? I’m up for anything.”
“Our options are limited considering I’m confined to the house.”
She waves that away. “Forget the rules. I have my own little contingent of bodyguards waiting outside. We’ll be fine. Show me around town.”
I take a deep breath. Liam’s going to be pissed when he finds out that Keely ignored his decree. Which makes it worth the risk. “All right, let’s get going.”
“I promise, we’ll have some fun.” She loops her arm through mine. “Now, what’s there to do in this town, other than smoking weed?”
Chapter 33
Alisa
I try not to, but I end up having a really good time with Keely.
For the next few days, the rules are suspended. Although we’re trailed by a small army of bodyguards, I show Keely around Portland, starting with all the big tourist areas and moving into my favorite local spots. We get lunch, go on a couple hikes, see a movie, grab some dinner, even go dancing when Keely practically begs me to take her somewhere. “I used to do this all the tie with my bestie, Jamila,” she says as she loses herself on the dance floor.
She’s a lot of fun and really easy to get along with. And it helps that she makes me this unbelievable batch of homemade donuts on the morning of her last day. We both know she’s getting on the plane later that afternoon, but we don’t talk about it. Instead, I eat way too much, give myself a minor sugar hangover, and sit out back in the comfortable morning breeze.
“Still on the fence?” she asks, and I know what she means.
“Not on the fence,” I say. “Just not going.”
“Got it.” She looks at her nails. “I don’t blame you. Portland’s a cool town.”
“I had a lot of fun with you,” I say and really mean it. “I wish I could get on that plane. I just can’t.”
She nods, quiet, and looks like she wants to say something—but she looks over my shoulder and tenses.
I follow her gaze. Liam’s standing in the sliding door staring right at me. I meet his eye and hold it, daring him to come out here. He only gestures for me to follow him back inside.
“Better go,” Keely whispers. “At least hear him out.”
“I’d rather not.”
“I’ve found that resisting them only makes it worse.”
I grunt, annoyed, but she’s right. I can’t ignore Liam forever and decide to head inside after him.
I find him standing at the kitchen, eating one of Keely’s donuts. “This is really good,” he says. “Did you try one?”
“She made twelve,” I say, gesturing at the two leftovers. “She ate one.”
“Impressive.” He puts the remains down. “I have something for you.”
“If it’s a ticket to Boston, don’t bother.”
“No, I think you’ll be much more interested in this.” He turns to the door. “Follow me.”
I hesitate, not in the mood for his mysterious bullshit, but end up ghosting along behind him anyway. We get into one of his big SUVs and head into the city. It takes me a few minutes to recognize where we’re going, but I don’t believe it until we’re parked out front.
I stare at the old house. It’s a Victorian-style home, the interior modernized about twenty years ago, though it’s beginning to show some wear around the edges. I know it intimately; I can still picture its smell, the rooms, the narrow staircases. It’s the house I grew up in.
