Until We're More

by Cindi Madsen

  In order to keep my goals, it wasn’t just a bad idea; it was an epically bad one. But my mom was a vortex of neediness and guilt trips, one I got sucked into every time. My stepdad didn’t want me there, either. Since he was also allergic to cats, George would be restricted to my old bedroom that’d been converted into a craft room, which meant I had to unbury the bed before I could use it. Mom had also added that I’d have to deep clean the room before I left, including paying for the carpet to be professionally steamed. George would hate being cooped up in such a small space and would undoubtedly enact revenge by shoving every item he could get his paws on to the floor, and then I’d end up replacing them, and by the end, it probably would’ve been cheaper to book a hotel.

  Plus, Liam and I would have so much fun together, and we had months to make up for. I could totally keep myself in check. Maybe get he’s my best friend tattooed on my hand. Or stomach, since it needed to be a place he’d never see. Then again, we might go swimming, so that left my boobs or my butt.

  “It’s okay if you’d rather stay with your parents,” Liam said, and I might be projecting, but he almost sounded sad. The barest hint of sadness, really, but for a guy who didn’t often show emotions, it seemed huge to me. “I just thought it’d be—”

  “I’d rather stay with you,” I said, meeting his gaze. “Like, it’s not even a competition. I just don’t want it to get weird, and what if you get sick of me?”

  He reached out and tugged the end of my ponytail, his callused fingertips brushing my neck and sending a cascade of goose bumps across my skin. “Chels, I’ve missed you like crazy. I’ll never get sick of you.”

  “But what if you get sick of George?”

  “I’ll do my best to remember that you two are a packaged deal.”

  “Okay, but I can totally pay you rent, and—”

  “You’re not paying rent.” His eyebrows drew low, and his frown took hold. Most people would run scared and/or give in. Luckily, I wasn’t most people, and I’d grown immune to his scowls.

  “Liam, I don’t need you taking care of me all the time. Like I said, I’ve changed.”

  “I’m always going to take care of you. That’s never going to change, so get used to it.”

  A swirl went through my stomach. Probably a good indicator that my previous assertion about this being a bad idea held some validity.

  Then again, if I was going to make a stupid decision, it might as well be a fun, superhot one, right?

  Then again again, I couldn’t keep being the human version of an alley cat that always showed up at Liam’s door. The side of me desperate to prove I’d changed wasn’t ready to give up on a stipulation. I crossed my arms and set my chin so he could see I meant business. “I will only go along with this if you let me pay at least some rent. No ifs, ands, or buts.”

  He grunted.

  “Or grunts.”

  He grunted again, sighed, and added a shrug that meant he gave in to my terms without having to say it. Still felt like a victory to me, and I loosened my arms from the stance that felt way too stiff and unnatural. “Then I say we get this party started.” My excitement got the best of me, and I bounced on the seat of my chair as I flashed him a giant grin. “Roomie.”

  …

  Liam set my giant suitcase and duffel bag next to the couch—I’d attempted to carry one, but he’d simply raised an eyebrow, taken it from my shaky grip, and hefted both of them. As much as I appreciated that he took care of me, I couldn’t get used to it, and more than that, I wanted to be a strong, independent woman and all that. Hey, Beyoncé made it seem possible, and while I wouldn’t be dropping a record anytime soon, I was trying to do my part for female empowerment in other ways, starting with moving up the corporate ladder at my company so I could not only make a better living but also so I could make a difference. I’d almost botched it already by holding back and not being firm enough, and that was after the months I’d spent improving my boldness skills.

  I frowned, and Liam asked, “What?”

  “I was just thinking about how I want to move up the ladder at my company.” Not that it wasn’t a valid goal, but I sometimes had to work on marketing campaigns I didn’t totally agree with, for people who weren’t very nice, to say the least. “Maybe I am a corporate monkey.”

  “I’ll make sure to buy some bananas tomorrow.”

  My frown got aimed at him.

  “Cutest corporate monkey I’ve ever seen,” he said, which somehow made me feel better, even though there were prettier girls than me at work by a long shot. Ones who didn’t have to hold back their awkwardness and didn’t trip over their heels or their words. Hell, they gave their ideas out loud in meetings, too, instead of holding them in their heads and swearing to voice them next time. “As for the tour…kitchen, living room”—he pointed at each sparsely decorated area—“and the bedrooms are down the hall on the right; bathroom’s on the left. I’m starving, though, so we can finish settling you in after we eat.”

  The scent of the Chinese food hit me, making my stomach rumble. During the two-day drive from Colorado, I’d eaten a lot of fast food, and I’d promised myself I was going to eat healthier and maybe even learn how to cook better to help with that, but for now, Chinese on the couch was definitely in order.

  After I let George out, that was—Liam had picked up the food while I’d swung by my mom and Jesse’s house to retrieve my cat carrier and litter box. Big surprise, no one helped me carry anything there, and in addition to being heavy, the litter box needed to be held just so, the handle a mere trap to make you think you could carry it without dumping it down yourself. My mom and stepdad had seemed all put out about me staying with them, but when I’d told them about my change of venue, Mom asked if I’d still be coming by to take care of the laundry every week, the way I’d promised to do in exchange for room and board.

  Sure, Mom, I missed you, too. And I am doing well, thanks for asking. While I appreciated Liam’s restraint on a subject about which he often had too much to say, I’d caught the tick in his jaw when he’d mentioned my family. Worse, he was right. Staying with them was a sure way to add extra stress in my life, as well as meant doing my best Cinderella impression—the one before the fairy godmother comes into play, where she spends her waking hours cleaning and doing stuff for everyone else. It was one of those damned-either-way situations. Living too close, I felt overworked and unappreciated, but far away I felt like a slacker who wasn’t showing enough appreciation for everything they’d done for me.

  If I get the promotion, it won’t be such a big deal when I get suckered into sending money. Then Mom will be happier, and I’ll feel better, too, especially since it won’t mean I’m eating ramen, brewing cheap coffee at home, and wondering if I’ll have quite enough for utilities and gas at the end of the month.

  Barely scraping by added plenty of stress, but it was better than living here, turning into their overworked maid, and constantly ending up hurt that the only time Mom was interested in me was when she needed something.

  I squatted by the cat carrier and opened it. “Come look at your new home, baby.”

  George stuck out his fuzzy gray face, slowly testing the waters. No matter how much grooming I did, bedhead was his signature style.

  “Your cat looks like he ran face-first into a wall,” Liam said.

  “His adorable squishy face is because he’s a Persian. Or part, anyway, which was why his first owners decided they didn’t want him. They wanted a purebred, and he wasn’t as mellow as they expected.” I scratched my fingers over his back, giving him attention and luring him the rest of the way out at the same time. “But it’s their loss, isn’t it, George?”

  My kitty glanced at Liam, then at me, and there was definitely betrayal in his features.

  “He looks tough and scary, but he’s super nice, and he’s going to let you run around more than the people at that other place.” I picked him up and twisted him toward Liam. “Are you gonna say hi?”

  �
��I think you covered it. Exaggerated the nice, but he’ll figure that out soon enough.”

  I clucked my tongue, letting George go and straightening so I could shoot Liam a look. Occasionally he’d made comments about how I should find some nicer friends and how he was too rough for me. Part of me—the delusional part—had translated that into why he’d never been interested in a relationship beyond friendship. A great friendship at that, and I never wanted to do anything that would jeopardize it. Especially since I knew that besides me, Liam didn’t let anyone take care of him ever, and he let me only the tiniest bit. He also grumbled about how I didn’t need to the entire time. One time he’d had the flu, and he kept demanding I stay away so that I didn’t get sick, but his whole family was traveling, and hello, I wasn’t going to let him go from sick to needing hospitalization because he was too damn stubborn to ask for help.

  He certainly didn’t wait for me to ask for help when my one sorta boyfriend spread rumors about me in high school. Nope, Liam had just picked the guy up by the collar and demanded he tell everyone the truth—which boiled down to me not being as “slutty and easy” as he’d bragged. My sorta ex cleared up the rumors and gave me restraining-order amount of space after that. As did most everyone else at school, which wasn’t ideal—although for the record, not that different from the norm—but Liam was the first person who’d ever stood up for me.

  He always had my back, even when I insisted I was okay, and while it occasionally frustrated me, it also brought a sense of security I’d never experienced before.

  The only boundary he and I seemed good at was the just friends one. Well, he was better at it, but I was determined to stay in bounds this time. I’d push myself to keep dating while I was in town so I wouldn’t get too caught up in Liam, undo my progress, and end up as the girl with no social life again. It’d also prove to him that I’d grown adept at taking care of myself and prevent any weirdness, which was even more important now that we were doing the roomie thing.

  Ooh, and being in San Diego for a couple weeks would open up a whole new pool of people I hadn’t already ruined dates with. Unless you counted the guys I’d gone out with during high school.

  And college.

  Ugh, don’t think about that. No going backward. I’m a different girl now.

  Liam dug out the white containers with the red Chinese symbols, handed me the chicken lo mein with extra sauce and an eggroll, and took the rice, chicken, and steamed veggies for himself.

  I snagged a plastic fork out of the bag—usually I pretended I could use the chopsticks, but I was too hungry for the extra effort, not to mention paranoid about dropping noodles all over Liam’s black couch.

  Man, that thing is going to be covered in George’s hair in no time. I’d better pick up an extra roller. “When’s your next fight?” I asked as I headed toward the living room. “It’s the biggie, right?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, finally landed a shot at the title. Three months to go, so I’ll be in training-camp mode the last couple weeks you’re here. Finn’s got a fight in three weeks, though, so he and I will be putting in a lot of long hours. But just make yourself comfortable, and if you need anything, send me a text and I’ll pick it up on the way home.”

  Home. I liked the sound of that a little too much. “Or you can text me when you’re going to be late, and I can get it so you don’t have to stop.” Playing it cool was his forte, but he had to be nervous about his next fight. The professional fighting world had been completely foreign to me when I first moved next door to the Roths, but after years of being immersed in it, I understood weight classes—Liam was light heavyweight while Finn fought middleweight—could recite various takedowns and submission moves, and understood how huge a deal it was to be in the running for a belt. “I’m sure you’ve got a lot going on with work and your training, and I’m happy to help make your life easier while I’m here, however I can.”

  “I appreciate that.” He sat on the far end of the couch, and I sat on the opposite side, kicked off my shoes, and spun to face him so my back was against the armrest. Even with my legs straight out, my feet barely reached his thigh. It was a big thigh, too. Muscular, and it filled out his warm-up pants nicely. After spending a lot of time with scrawny office boys, Liam seemed extra big, making me feel like the twelve-year-old girl who’d forced back her bashful side and approached him all those years ago.

  I’d seen him out in his front yard the day we’d moved in and, determined not to be the sad new girl with no friends, forced one foot in front of the other until I was standing right in front of him. He was even bigger up close, and while I’d wanted to abort, his electric-blue eyes locked on to mine, and I’d stared way past the polite range.

  Once I found my voice, I informed him we’d just moved in—as if he wouldn’t have realized that, what with the fact that I’d come from the house next door, the moving van still parked at the curb. I threw in some “fun facts” about both Yucca Valley, where we’d lived before that, and myself. Current Me cringed at the memory of how I’d gone on and on about my collection of unicorns and how it’d filled two boxes. If there was anything I excelled at, it was embarrassing myself.

  Liam had simply let me talk, nodding a whole lot as I rattled on and on, and when my brain finally got the signal to my mouth to stop talking already, he said he was walking down the road to grab food. I’d slowly backed away, hearing what I assumed to be a hint to leave, loud and clear. Only then he’d added, “You wanna come?” and that was that. Like a trusty dog, anytime he was going anywhere, I’d jump at the chance to go along.

  “Remember the day we met?” I asked now, feeling extra nostalgic and thinking about how forcing myself to be brave that day was one of the best decisions I’d ever made.

  “How could I forget? You verbally assaulted me with facts about Joshua trees and unicorns and then took my taco.”

  I gasped and kicked his leg. “You told me I had to try it, even after I politely waved off your offer.” Rolled tacos weren’t something I’d tasted before, and it’d been my first visit to a food truck, so I hadn’t been completely sold the cuisine was on the up and up.

  “Try. Not take.” He chuckled, and after giving him my best steely glare, I extended my eggroll.

  “Evensies?”

  He took a big bite, leaving me half. “I refuse to say evensies.”

  I giggled and popped the rest of the eggroll in my mouth, not bothering to be proper about chewing. At least now I knew he wouldn’t run from my crazy, no matter how much rambling I did about my fictional worlds or any other random thought that popped into my head.

  This was the comfortable friendship I’d missed more than anything else—all the more reason not to complicate it. But then I thought of another complication, one that’d be hard not to care about. “By the way, if while I’m staying here, you…” Might as well just say it. That way I’d be more prepared for the possibility. “If you’re entertaining a lady friend, a simple heads up, and I’ll make myself scarce.” Like, beyond scarce.

  He looked at me as though the possibility was ridiculous, since evidently he’d forgotten that I knew how many lady friends he had. Once in a while I’d wished the women he dated would be concerned about how close he and I were, but the fact that they never were only proved how far out of my league he was. It was one thing for him to not like me like that, but it was another for me to be such a nonentity, and clearly the entire male population felt similarly.

  “I can’t promise the same,” he said. “If you bring some guy home, I’m going to want name, address, social security number, and to grill him for several minutes.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Funny.”

  “I’m not joking.” His expression matched the humorless words.

  “I don’t think you need to worry.”

  Two creases showed up between his eyebrows. “You got some boyfriend back in Denver?”

  “Nope. Even without you high-key threatening guys who talk to me, I still haven’t manag
ed to find a boyfriend.” George jumped up onto my lap, and I shoved his face away from my food and distracted him with a chin scratch. “Except George, of course. But I’m working on it,” I added, and couldn’t help doing some fishing of my own. “What about you?”

  “No girl, and not working on it. I don’t have time.”

  “That’s just sad.”

  “That’s my life. For a long time, the gym was circling the bankruptcy drain, and while we’re back in the black again, it’s going to take a while to stabilize and get it back to its former glory. We need a few more big wins, like Finn’s next fight, as well as mine…” His eyes clouded over and he muttered, “That’d be really good for the gym, and winning a title might prevent Dad giving himself an ulcer over how to keep his legacy going and the money flowing, as if the tumor scare wasn’t bad enough.”

  Before I could add that I was glad it’d only been a scare and that the surgery to remove it had been successful, Liam was back in the present and saying, “Add in my training, and all the other people I’m in charge of training, and the last thing I have time for is a relationship.”

  Well, on the bright side, he didn’t have a girlfriend I’d need to feel bad about automatically disliking. And on the extra-bright side, that should help me think of him only as my BFF who happened to be smoking hot.

  Downside, when he clicked on the TV and wrapped his hand around my ankle, it sent a live-wire reaction through me, the zap waking up every cell in my body and making it impossible to think only platonic thoughts.

  Yep, crashing with him while I was here was my best worst idea ever.

  Chapter Four

  Liam

  Since Chelsea and I had two whole days before she’d have to start work at her temporary new office, something I could tell she was nervous about, I decided now would be a good time to attempt taking a couple days off from the gym. I went for an early run on the beach so I could fit in my cardio, and by the time I returned to the apartment, Chelsea was lounging on the couch, her cat sprawled across her torso. She cooed compliments at him, and he ate up every second. So far he’d given me a wide berth, and I returned the favor. I was more of a dog person, or I thought I’d be if I had time for pets. As it was, I didn’t think it was fair to bring home an animal I couldn’t take care of.