“You are kind of a bitch, you know?” Collins spits, ducking to level his face with mine, the regret over raising his voice a few minutes ago gone.
“Bastian!” Liam’s voice comes from close behind, fueled by anger.
An arm wraps around my waist and tugs me backward, my back hitting his firm chest. Calling me a bitch will not set me off, but the disrespect in Collins’ tone has me craving blood.
His blood.
I can practically feel it.
Maybe Liam can sense I have murder on the brain and intervened to save his dumbass friend.
His hold on me doesn’t loosen. Liam’s hand splays across my stomach, keeping me pressed against him. I try to focus on my surroundings and his touch to keep me level before I do something stupid.
Collins’ eyes dart to Liam’s hand, and he chuckles.
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Collins says, rubbing a hand down his face. “I knew this was a bad idea. I’m not an idiot. The attraction is mutual between the two of you. Figure out what you want, Mila, because I will not be hurt in the process.”
Liam and I watch Collins turn on his heel and walk away, ending the conversation. I have to figure out how the fuck I’m going to fix this. Sure, I’ve toyed with Liam, but I haven’t given either of them the idea I was attracted to him, have I?
My spine stiffens when a jacket wraps around my shoulders. My favorite leather jacket won’t do much to stave off the cold, but the warmth is welcome.
“You’re shaking,” Liam says, pulling me back to reality.
I turn to face him, and he dangles my shoes in front of my face before dropping them onto the ground.
“I’m fine,” I say, stepping into the shoes, though they do nothing for my frozen feet.
But I’m not.
Things are about to get extremely complicated for me. I should just tell Donovan to go fuck himself and slip into Liam’s bed. Be done with all this bullshit.
I sigh, and Liam searches my eyes while waiting for me to elaborate. I don’t, and I won’t. Neither of us would be in this position if his stupid ass would think with his brain and not his dick.
“I’m sorry,” he says, rubbing a hand down his face.
I open my mouth to respond, and he raises a hand to stop me.
Liam sighs and meets my lost stare. “I know you can take care of yourself, and I get that you’re tough. But I shouldn’t have put you in this position.”
I dip my chin once in acceptance, not offering words. His sincerity confuses the fuck out of me. I would think the cocky prick would’ve tried to tear my clothes off by now. Instead, he’s sympathizing with what he thinks is a broken heart.
“It was my sad attempt to get close to you. I never once doubted you, but knowing where you find comfort in an early morning jog… I wanted to be sure.”
He pauses, checking to see if I’m paying attention.
“You’re a little terrifying. And never forget I said that because I’ll never admit it again.”
A laugh bubbles out of my throat, catching us both off guard. I sober quickly, ready to get out of this conversation and go home so I can do some recon.
He raises an eyebrow and smirks, pleased with my reaction.
“Even ice queens have a sense of humor,” I shrug. “I think I should go now. I don’t think that I’m welcome here anymore.”
Liam steps in front of me, stopping me from walking away. His hand falls on my hip like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Liam,” I say, hoping he’ll move and let me pass.
“What is it about you?” He questions, more to himself than me.