Trusting Liam
Page 8

 Molly McAdams

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“Well, then you can thank your dad for me. And really, you’ve already done more than enough for them. Like I said, I put too much pressure on you, it wasn’t fair. So we can just agree to have your part with them be over, no hard feelings.”
A feeling close to panic began putting pressure on my chest. Eli and I both knew I would run into the girls from time to time since they were working at my dad’s gym, but I still needed a reason to be near Moon more often than that. The last thing I wanted was to help them meet people, and over the weekend I’d thought of anything to get out of the situation. But now that my opportunity was there, I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t risk not having time with her.
“Eli, it’s not a big deal. I know I didn’t respond well the day you asked, but I didn’t fully understand the situation then. I really have no problem introducing them to people; this past weekend just wasn’t the right time.”
His face lit up with surprise, and I hated that it was because he thought I was doing a favor for him, when it was really for myself. “Really? Liam, you have no idea how much I appreciate this. Thank you, man.” He stood up and extended a hand, and when I followed his actions, he pulled his arm back. “But for the record, I tried to let you off the hook. ’Cause Paisley was livid when she found out what Mason and I had asked you to do.”
I huffed softly and nodded. “Well, if your wife asks, I’ll be sure to let her know this is on me.”
“I owe you,” Eli called out as I retreated to the door, and I just flashed him a smile as I left. If only he knew how backward that statement was.
4
June 3
Kennedy
“ONCE YOU REMEMBER the ingredients for each drink, it’s pretty simple. All right! If you need anything, just ask Kristi. Good luck, ladies,” our new boss, Brandon, said with a loud clap.
Kira and I had gotten hired on at McGowan’s over the weekend, and after a crash training course with the boss and his daughter, Kristi, over the past two days, they were letting us take over the drink station. The drinks weren’t hard to make, and we had cards strategically placed that had the ingredients for each one in case we forgot, so there wasn’t much to worry about in that department. However, I was worried about the dozens upon dozens of men going in and out of the gym each day. I’m pretty sure I stared way more than I was supposed to, and I had a feeling boss man wasn’t going to be thrilled that my greatest perk to working here was his customers. On the plus side, Kira had finally noticed that there were other members of the opposite sex than Zane, and her crying had diminished drastically.
“You get used to it,” Kristi said offhandedly a couple hours into the shift, and I turned my head to see who she was talking to. She was staring right at me.
“The drinks?” I asked, my eyebrows rising in question. “I figured. I’m not too worried about it.”
She laughed softly. “Not the drinks. I don’t doubt you’ll get the hang of them by the end of this week. I mean the guys.” Nodding in the direction of the sweaty, muscled men in question, she sent me a wry look. “After a while you don’t even notice they’re there anymore.”
“Somehow I doubt that. You grew up with this, so it’s easier for you. Us? Not so much.”
With another laugh, Kristi pushed away from the counter and began walking out of the drink section. “My mom just brought in lunch for Dad. I’m gonna see if I can go steal any of it from him. Call into his office if anything happens.”
I nodded and turned back to find Kira doing her best to not look at two guys fighting in the ring off to one side of the gym, and failing. Just before I could try to ask her what she thought of the job, the location and . . . uh . . . scenery, and Kristi—who was our age and had just graduated college as well—someone cleared their throat.
I turned to take the order, and—oh, Jesus Christ. There was no way I would ever get used to all these guys. This easily topped a houseful of frat boys, and groups of more of the same at the beach. Everyone here was toned, a lot had shirts off or tight-fitting wife beaters, and a good portion were too perfect looking for their own good. Heaven. My new job was heaven.
Twenty minutes later I was in the middle of making a drink while Kira was beginning to take the latest customer’s order, and the first words he spoke had goose bumps covering my arms. The words weren’t anything special, just a “How are you today?” but all I wanted to do was turn and look at him. Knowing I had to concentrate on what I was putting in the drink, I forced myself to stare at the different containers, but I felt my body leaning back and turning the slightest bit when the deep timbre of his voice floated over to me again.
Finish the drink, then look at him. Finish the drink, then look at him, I chanted to myself over and over.
“Do you—I’m sorry.” He huffed a short laugh. “Do you know who I am?” he asked Kira.
Who is this guy? We’re from Florida, of course she doesn’t know who you are. I suppressed a snort when Kira said what I’d just been thinking almost verbatim.
“Are you Moon?” he asked hesitantly, and I did snort then.
I started turning to finally look at the guy, who I’m sure was about to give Kira the worst pickup line known to man, when his question replayed through my mind. I sucked in a quick gasp, and the pitcher full of the unmixed ingredients I’d been holding slipped from my hand and fell to the floor—splashing everything up on my legs.
“Whoa! You okay there?” my customer asked, his expression and tone teasing. When I didn’t respond or move, his expression fell. “No, seriously, are you okay?”
There’s no way. He can’t be here, standing behind me, talking with my sister. My identical twin sister, and asking if she is Moon. I hadn’t heard that name since a night in Vegas over a year ago, but it was a name I hadn’t been able to stop thinking of for months.
I finally turned then, and everything began spinning as I looked at him. My knees felt weak, my legs felt like they wouldn’t hold me up for another minute, and I wasn’t sure where my breath had gone. I was hallucinating. It had to be all the men in the gym or the smell of the protein shakes. But I was definitely hallucinating. Because he was standing there in slacks, a button-down shirt, and a tie. And in my memory, he definitely wasn’t wearing that; he wasn’t wearing much of anything.
His arctic-blue eyes met mine, and I knew in the confused—yet relieved—expression on his face when he repeated my nickname, that I wasn’t hallucinating. He was there, standing in front of me, in a gym in motherfucking California.
“Look, guy, I don’t know what you mean by ‘Moon,’ but if you want some—” Kira had been turning to look at me, and cut off on a gasp. “No way! You’re—holy shit, you’re Vegas!”
I wasn’t moving again, I also didn’t know if I was breathing yet—because it definitely felt like I had only seconds before I passed out. I just stood there staring into the lightest blue eyes I’d ever seen, trying to make myself do something . . . anything.
He opened his mouth to speak, but before anything came out, Kristi ran up behind him and jumped on his back—her arms wrapped around his neck as she shouted, “Liam! Where have you been all my life?”