King Me (King Me Duet 1)

Kalen, who didn’t mince words, said, “He’ll deal with it.”

Connor said, “He doesn’t know. We’ll tell him when and if you agree.”

“Fine. I’ll look this over and get back to you.” I held up Lizzy’s keys. “Thanks for this.”

She shh’d me. “Don’t even think about it. No one is there. It’s sitting empty. There’s furniture and a kitchen. I bet you’re tired of being cooped up in a hotel room.”

She was right about that. “I am. This is cool.”

“Don’t mention it. Trust me when I say I’m paying it forward.”

I took that to mean that someone had offered her a place to stay before when she needed it. “Thanks again,” I said, because what else could I say?

She smiled and it was genuine. It appeared the wives had my back. I didn’t have a full read on my brothers. At least they hadn’t dismissed me. They’d taken it a step further and were even helping. The question was why?

I’d gone back to the hotel and immediately thought of Natalie. She was gone and I would be too. I spent a restless night. Grant called in the middle of it.

“Sorry we keep missing each other. The weather is affecting everything. Tell me what’s going on.”

I gave him an update about the latest job offer.

“Do you want to do it?” he asked.

“I can’t leave Uncle Ted in the lurch. With you flying for Skyland—”

“That’s off for now. They’re cutting back flights because of the virus. I have Dad covered. Do what you have to do.”

The conversations with Grant gave me things to think about the job. The next day after some negotiating, they ended up revising the offer to a job-by-job basis with the understanding that my priority was with my Uncle.

What I didn’t expect was the outcome on my first day.

Twelve

Natalie

In only a few days, I had a routine. The last one I spent my time off semi-decorating my room. I didn’t want to move too much around, but I also didn’t want to feel like I was borrowing someone’s room. Ms. Allen, who insisted I call her Patty when we weren’t at work, had cleared some space in her son’s closet for me. I didn’t need much, not yet at least.

I turned on my tablet to watch something when I got a text.

Liam: I wanted you to know I’m not leaving NY yet.

Liam: I won’t be in the hotel. I’ve got a place.

He sent me the address.

Liam: It’s temporary, but I wanted you to know in case.

Oh, this man.

Me: Can I call you?

A second later, my phone rang.

“Liam,” I answered.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing. It’s just I thought talking would be better than texting.” I really just want to hear your voice, I didn’t say.

“Yeah. Sure. How are you doing?” he asked.

“Fine actually. I was off today. That was nice.”

“You should have called. We could have met up.”

“So we’re friends now?” I asked.

“Aren’t we?”

“I don’t know, Liam.” Why hasn’t he mentioned the kiss? I couldn’t forget about it. “You made it clear where we stood and now you send me your address.”

“We are both strangers in the city…” The pause was way too long. “I probably shouldn’t have.”

“No,” I said, quickly cutting him off. “No. It was nice. You’re a nice guy.”

“I’m not really.”

“You really are.” I giggled at the silliness of our back and forth.

“I can be as much as an asshole as the next guy.”

I shook my head even though he couldn’t see it. “You’ve never shown me that side. Nice guys don’t leave anyone to freeze outside of a hospital.”

“One example.”

“Okay. Nice guys don’t think about a woman’s virtue over their own self-gratification especially when a woman throws herself at said guy.” Did I really just admit that?

“You’re different.”

“How?” I heard that too much. “Is that another way of telling me I’m ugly or not sexy enough.”

He chuckled. “Believe me, neither is true. If you weren’t you, I would be asking you what you were wearing.”

“Oh, you do the sexy phone thing?” I teased.

“I’m not sure what you mean. But you wouldn’t call me nice if you could hear my thoughts about you right now.”

“Says the guy who turned me down flat. You’re so not an asshole and that’s a good thing.”

“I’m warning you, so you don’t get disappointed. Don’t mistaken my kindness for being a nice guy. The one thing I love more than beer is pussy. And I’ve only had one girlfriend. What does that tell you?”

Why was he warning me off? The answer hit me.

“That you’re capable of love and that I’m friend material. Don’t worry. I’ve heard it enough. I used to think maybe my dad was somehow interfering in my life because one guy flat out told me ‘Your dad is scary.’ But something tells me you wouldn’t be scared of my dad. Thus, I’m unfuckable friend material.”