“Okaaay,” Angel says, dubiously. “So, I have about a thousand alcohol calories that need shifting. Are you coming to work out with me or not?”
Liam pulls the sheet up. “Uh, not. Sorry. Didn’t sleep well.”
Angel climbs off the bed and sighs. “Fine. Abandon me in my hour of need. See if I care. But if I don’t fit into the kick-ass wedding dress Elissa helped me choose last night, I’m blaming you.”
“Uh-huh.”
Angel puts her hands on her hips. “You’re not even going to ask me about the dress? This is your wedding, too, you know.”
Liam scrubs his hand over his face. “God, sorry. Not really awake yet. You found something you liked?”
“Heaps, but Elissa helped me narrow it down to the perfect choice. God, that chick is amazing. I swear, I’m going to kidnap her when we leave New York. You’d be cool with her living with us when we’re hitched, right? We could be the first out and proud polyamorous trio in Hollywood.” Liam looks like he’s about to have a heart attack. Angel bursts into laughter. “Kidding! Sort of. But if I was into chicks, I’d definitely make a move. She shouldn’t be single. Don’t you know any hot actor friends you can set her up with?”
“Uh . . . no. Anyway, she doesn’t date actors.”
“How do you know that?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “She . . . uh . . . told me years ago. Every bad relationship she’s had has been with an actor.”
Angel shakes her head. “Yeah, well, no wonder. We’re a bunch of assholes. Still, I’m sure I can find some hottie for her if I really try. You try to think of people, too. That girl deserves some man to worship her, and I aim to make it happen.” She bends down and kisses his cheek. “Okay, I’m outta here, fatty. See you at rehearsals later.”
“Yep. See you, then.”
Angel leaves, and when Liam hears the apartment door close behind her, he releases a sigh of relief and flops back on the bed. “Jesus Christ.”
I pull open the bathroom door and step out. As soon as he sees me, he leaps out of bed and comes over.
“Liss. Hey.” He blinks at me. “I thought you’d left.”
“Hey,” I say, my heart still pounding from our close encounter of the Angel kind. Also, dealing with him in just his boxers isn’t easy, especially in my current state. “So, Angel has a key to your apartment, huh?”
He looks at the front door, then back to me. “Uh, yeah. But she never uses it. She must have knocked, and only come in when I didn’t answer. You okay? You get some painkillers?”
“Yep. Thanks.” I tuck my hair behind my ears. “Sorry about the whole . . . well, everything, last night. I didn’t mean to crash.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m happy you passed out here rather than on the subway.”
I nod. “So, you undressed me?”
He stands up straight. “Uh . . . yeah. I thought you’d be more comfortable. I was going to sleep on the couch, but you grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. I meant to just stay until you were unconscious, but I guess I fell asleep.” He puts his hands on his hips and assesses me. “You feel up to some breakfast? I have bacon and eggs in the fridge. Might settle your stomach.”
After what just happened, the thought of food makes me shudder. “No, thanks. I’d better get going.”
I squeeze past him and head out into the living room to find my bag. It’s under the coffee table, and I thank God Angel didn’t spot it.
“Hey, wait a second.” He catches up to me and grabs my arm. “You don’t have to leave so soon.”
I turn to face him. “I really do.” I take a deep breath. I didn’t want to do this now, but I guess I have no choice. “Liam, I can’t come here anymore. From now on, Josh will run your lines with you. You can trust him with your secret. He’ll be very discreet.”
It takes Liam a few moments to process what I’ve just said, but when he does, his whole face drops. “Wait. What?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t understand. Is this about last night? Are you embarrassed about what you said?”
“It’s not about last night. It’s about the past six years. And it’s also about the fact that your fiancée very nearly walked in and found us in bed together.”
“Liss—”
“No, Liam. This isn’t fair to her. Also, if Marco and Ava were to find out I’m visiting your apartment every night in secret, my career would be over. They’d fire me on the spot.”
“They couldn’t. You’re here in a professional capacity.”
“No, I’m not. That’s the problem. Sobbing into your arms about my pathetic infatuation with you isn’t professional. And you being aroused by me isn’t, either. And for the record—me waking up half-naked in bed with you? Absolutely not professional.”