Wicked Heart (Starcrossed #3)(82)

I watch, enthralled as a naked Liam trawls through the mess surrounding the couch. “Found my underpants!” he says, holding them up in triumph. “Not sure how they got wrapped around Cheese Lovers’ Quarterly, but whatever.”

I pout as he pulls them on. Thankfully, he ignores the rest of his clothes, which he’s already folded into a neat pile on the couch, and begins to clean in just his skintight boxer briefs. We’re both freshly showered, and I’m in my robe, and although I would like to stay in bed all morning, knowing the apartment looks like a tornado has ripped through it makes both of us tense. Neat Freaks, Unite!

“I’ll do the kitchen,” Liam says, and gives me a quick kiss as he passes. “There’s broken crockery in there, and I can’t have my woman cutting her delicate feet.”

I smile at his choice of words. I’ve never been someone’s woman before. I like it.

Liam stops at the hall closet and digs out the dustpan while I start sorting through the mess of books on the floor. Did nothing survive our onslaught?

A shiver runs up my spine as I think about Liam slamming me against walls and counters. So worth it.

Liam hums as he cleans the kitchen, and I smile as I concentrate on stacking books on the shelves in my own particular fashion; that is to say, categorized by genre, then author, then color. Kind of sad, but whatever. They’re my shelves. I like them to look pretty.

I’m almost finished when I hear voices outside the door.

“Angel, stop.”

“No. C’mere, Josh. Jusforasecond.”

“I can’t hug you and open the door at the same time. Just stand there, okay? And for God’s sake, don’t puke. I don’t deal well with puke.”

The door swings open and Josh stumbles in with one arm around Angel. She looks terrible. When they see me and the mess, they both freeze. Angel sways and blinks as Josh turns to me. “What the hell, Lissa?! Did those asshole teenagers from the second floor break in and trash the joint? Because I’d love an excuse to kick some pimply, emo ass.”

“Josh, hey. Uh . . . no. Would you believe there was an earthquake?”

“No. What really happened?”

“Elissaaaaa!” Before I can answer, Angel lurches toward me and pulls me into a tight hug. “I love you. I had a shitty day yesterday, but seeing you makes it all better.” God, she smells like a brewery. “Will you marry me instead of Liam? He’s a dick. He makes me look stupid. He’s supposed to be my rock in the stormy sea of life, but he let me drown.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “Oh, my God. Someone write that down. I’m so freaking poetic when I’m hammered, it blows my mind.”

I glance over at Josh. He holds up his hands, defensive. “You told me to comfort her. She wanted to be comforted by beer.”

“Has she been drinking all night?”

He nods. “I tried to stop her, but we both know she won’t be argued with. Plus, the more she drank, the more attractive she found me. How could I resist?”

“Ohh,” Angel murmurs as she rests her head on my shoulder. “Josh has been lovely, but Lissa . . . you’re so soft. This robe is comfy. Let’s snuggle.”

She leans down and rests her head on my boobs. I hug her and glare daggers at Josh.

He at least has the sense to look regretful. “I’m sorry. She kept flirting with me until I bought her another drink. I’m a weak, selfish man.”

“Soon you’re going to be a dead man. We have rehearsal in two hours. Marco is going to kill both of us if she shows up like this.”

“I know. That’s why I brought her here, so you could help sober her up.”

I pull back and get Angel to look at me. “Hey, sweetie. How’re you doing?”

“Ahmtired. And Josh won’t let me have more beer. He’s mean. But pretty.”

“How about some coffee? And maybe some food to soak up the alcohol?”

I’m about to take her into the kitchen when I remember who’s in there. Oh, God, as if this situation wasn’t bad enough. At least he has the sense to stay hidden.

“Lissa?” Josh is frowning at me. “Why the hell are there men’s clothes on our couch?”

“Um . . .”

Then his eyes go wide, and Angel gasps at the same time. Sure enough, I turn to see Liam standing half naked in the kitchen doorway, looking like a Greek god, except for the dustpan and yellow rubber gloves.

“Hey, guys,” he says softly, as he looks between us. “Uh . . . we should probably talk.”

Before anyone has time to speak, Angel races to the bathroom and barfs violently into the toilet.


Half an hour and two cups of coffee later, Angel is bleary-eyed, but definitely more sober. Liam and I are fully dressed and have explained our whole story, including our nightly line runs to counteract his secret dyslexia. So far, Angel and Josh are taking it well, all things considered.

“You’re an asshole, Quinn!” Josh yells as he paces in front of the couch. Okay, I lied when I said he was taking it well. “Not only do you dump Elissa for this bullshit PRmance years ago, but then, when you knew you were having feelings for her again, you didn’t even think to warn Angel about the approaching shitstorm? How fucking selfish are you?”

Liam shakes his head. “Josh, I understand why you’re pissed—”