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Even with that image in mind, I don’t let go of Liam’s hand until we reach the curb where my car is still waiting. I told the valet to keep it there, that I wouldn’t be long.
“Shit, nice car, A,” Matty says, reaching for the passenger side door.
Liam slaps him over the head and shoves him towards the back. “Get in, and for once in your life, just be quiet.”
I walk around to the driver’s side. By the time I get into the car, both Liam and his brother are buckled in. “How much did you drink?” I ask Liam. “You do know you have to be up and ready for morning skate in four hours, right?”
“I’m aware and capable of meeting my responsibilities, Aliyah. This isn’t my first job,” Liam says, his lips tilting up at the sides like he’s trying not to smile.
Two minutes later, I’m pulling into his garage. “Get out, and don’t make me come back in the middle of the night, Liam,” I tell him.
“Nice meeting you, A. I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you,” Matty says, closing the door as he exits the car. Leaving just me and Liam inside.
I don’t know what he’s waiting for. Then I remember I’m still wearing his jacket. I take it off and hand it to him. “Sorry. Forgot I was wearing it.”
“It’s past midnight, Aliyah. You shouldn’t be out on these roads. It’s not safe,” he says.
“I’m a big girl, Liam. I’m also the daughter of Jacob Monroe. Do you really think anything is going to happen to me?”
“Not even your father can stop the ice from freezing over,” he counters. “I have a guest room. Stay here until it’s at least daylight.”
“Is this your way of trying to get me in your bed, Liam? 'Cause it’s not going to work,” I tell him.
“No, it’s my way of making sure you don’t die because I was an idiot and let my brother talk me into going to that bar. I can’t live with that on my conscience,” he says.
“Fine, I’ll crash in your guest room. But I’m locking the door,” I huff.
“Thank you. And you should. A man only has so much restraint when it comes to your kind of temptation.” He looks down at the jacket in my outstretched arm. His eyes focus on the long scar that runs up the inside of my wrist. I drop the jacket and climb out of the car. I usually wear huge bracelets or cuffs to cover the mark. It’s the one reminder of who I really am that I can’t escape.
I’m the daughter a mother couldn’t love. The daughter a mother would do the most unthinkable and heinous things to when no one else was watching. It wasn’t until the slicing of my wrist in the bathtub, the same day I got this scar, that someone noticed. It was also the day she finally decided to leave, after her failed attempt to get rid of me for good. I never saw her again after that. I remember my father being sad. He’d look at me with tears in his eyes. And I knew it was my fault he lost his wife. Not that he’d ever say it.
I walk up to where Matty is waiting. I really don’t want Liam to ask me about what he thinks he saw. I know what it looks like, but the truth is so much worse. Because I didn’t get that scar from not loving myself. I got it from beingunlovable.
I mean, if your own mother can’t love you, then how can anyone else?
Liam stands between me and his brother in the elevator at an odd angle that fully prevents Matty from being able to see me. It’s weird, and the small chuckle that comes out of Matty’s mouth tells me that I’m not the only one who thinks so.
“Matty, you’ve got the sofa,” Liam says, taking my hand in his again and pulling me down the hall. He opens the door to his guest room. It’s decorated in light blues and whites. The king-size bed has a million pillows on it, the large pile just calling my name, while the floor-length dark-navy velvet drapes are already closed. “You can sleep here. The door locks. Wake me up if you need anything. You remember where my bedroom is, right?” Liam says, his tone serious until that last comment, when it resumes its playful lilt.
“What could I possibly need?” I ask him, confused.
“A cuddle? An orgasm? The list is endless, really,” he says with a smirk.
“I think I’ll be fine.” I walk over to the bed and pull the covers back. Just before he closes the door, I call out to him. He stops and turns around to look at me. “Thank you for not asking about it,” I tell him, wrapping my right hand over my left wrist.
Liam glances from my wrist to my eyes. “Everyone has a past, Aliyah. It’s usually never what people think or expect it to be, because nothing is ever as it seems in life. Goodnight.” He doesn’t say anything more before he shuts the door behind him.
I think I prefer it when he’s being flirtatious. I can pretend not to like that Liam. It’s so much harder when he’s nice and sensitive and makes sense. I have been judging him based on his past, even though I wasn’t there and have no way of knowing what really happened. I don’t know why he beat up his coach, or why he went on that bender and found himself in numerous precarious situations that ended up plastered all over the tabloids.
I climb into the bed. The sheets are cool and soft on my skin as I sink into the mattress. Pulling the blankets up over my chest, I look back to the door. I really should get up and lock it, but I don’t feel unsafe. I don’t think Liam or his brother will come in here when I’m sleeping. So, instead of locking the door, I close my eyes and let sleep take over.
ChapterTwelve
“Thanks.” I hand the cab driver a fifty and make a mental note to contact the company that should have had my car delivered to me by now. I hate not having my own way to get around.
I pull my gym bag over my shoulder and walk into my building. Training was just as shitty today as it was yesterday. It seems the wholelet’s hate on the new guyroutine isn’t going to end anytime soon. I can’t blame the guys for being salty towards me though. I have beat their asses out on that ice during every game I ever played against them over the last few years.
Then, all of a sudden, they’re expected to playwithme, which is not always an easy adjustment. It just sucks to be on the receiving end of their dislike. I honestly thought I’d play for Montreal until I retired. I wanted to be a one-team kind of player. Now, all I want to do is play my old team and annihilate them. People I considered friends, family even, all turned their backs on me the minute I got traded. Not a single fucking one of my former teammates has reached out since I left.
