At four in the morning, the front door slams. From my vantage point at the top of the stairs, I watch Liam stumble and sway drunkenly into the dark kitchen. He’s singing softly, mostly humming, but every so often he belts out an accent-heavy verse.

“…so I took her hand, and I gave her a twirl, and I lost my heart to a Galway Girl – Oh!”

He fills a glass with water and chugs it, continuing to hum between swallows. When he’s done, he sets the glass on the counter but misses. It shatters on the floor.

“Fecking hell,” he mumbles. He stares down at the mess for a moment, then shakes his head and walks right over it.

Graceless steps carry him to the stairs and up them. His bleary eyes pass right over me, then snap back. I hear a click and see the glisten of a blade in the same moment he sighs heavily.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I almost stabbed you. What the fuck are you doing?”

My heart drops like a weight from my throat to my gut. “Waiting for you.”

He smirks, tucking the switchblade away. “Are you now? I don’t suppose you want to suck me off? Always helps me sleep.”

“Classy,” I snarl, “but no, thanks. I don’t suck cock that’s been in another woman the same night.”

He laughs, loud and astonished. “Oh, you little hoyden. You think I fucked that sub? Trussed her up and fucked her till she screamed?”

Disgust and anger bring me to my feet. “Didn’t you? Wasn’t that the whole point? The punishment?”

He leaps the three stairs between us. I move, but too slowly. Fingers sink into the hair at the back of my neck, and he yanks my face up.

“You do not belong there,” he growls, each word enunciated with sharp precision.

“Then where do I belong?” I yell.

“With me,” he says furiously. “You belong with me.”

I laugh hysterically, shoving him away. He releases my hair before his fingers risk ripping it out. Almost, I wish he hadn’t. The pain might have slowed my mental sprint off a cliff. But since there’s nothing to stop me, I plummet right into the storm of my emotions.

“But you belong there! With them! They worship you at that place. And even you told me I’m the worst sub in the world. I don’t know why you keep pretending this will work! I can’t be like that, I can’t do all the public displays, or scenes, or whatever you call them—God, this is a nightmare! Why won’t you just leave me alone? Let Maddoc have me if I’m so… so… wrong!”

Liam drags hands through his hair. “Look, Eden, ignoring the absolute horseshit of your last statement, I don’t fucking care about the club, about any of it. Sure, it’s a part of me—it will always be a part of me—but I don’t need it like some of the others do.”

He sounds sincere, but he’s also drunk.

“Then why have you been there the last three nights?” I demand.

“Why do you even care?” he rasps.

“Because I don’t want you sleeping with other women!” I holler. “Or even touching them!”

He matches my volume, yelling, “Why, Eden!”

“Because you’re mine!” I scream.

Silence descends, swirling around our heavy breaths. My pronouncement rings in the air. I have no idea which of us is more startled by it, but he recovers first.

“I didn’t touch her or anyone else. London belongs to Dominic. I didn’t touch her.”

My chest deflates. “You lied.”

He nods, unrepentant. “Has it ever occurred to you that I don’t want you to be anyone other than who you are? The sexiest, smartest, mouthiest woman I’ve ever met?”

I blink in surprise. “No.”

“And apparently the most clueless, as well.”

Groaning, I rub my face with my hands. “What the hell is happening to me?”

“I don’t know,” he says evenly. “But since I’m sloshed and liable to throw my heart at your feet any second, I’m going to spare myself the inevitable splash-back of shit and head to bed.”

My heart churns, spinning through fearful shadows and radiant light.

I clear my throat. “Splash-back of shit?”

He grunts and keeps walking.

“Liam?”

“What?” he snaps.

“Did you drive home drunk?”

“No, got a ride.”

He’s almost at the threshold of his bedroom. “Liam?”

“What?”

The cliff before me this time is just as terrifying, but I jump off it willingly, hoping to land on my feet.

“Want some company?”

He stops, glances back. “I’m not fucking you, dove.” His lips curl wryly. “Too much whiskey in my veins.”

I shake my head. “I just want to sleep. Next to you.” After a small hesitation, I admit, “You make me feel safe.”

His expression softens. “You really are a pain in my ass. Come on, then.” Pivoting, he disappears into the dark bedroom, but I can still hear him muttering. “Madwoman… showing up at the club. Brave little dove… should paddle you till you can’t sit for a week. Pigtails. Sitting in the dark for me wearing pigtails. Conniving woman. Jesus H. Christ, I’m drunk.”

There’s a thump, and he yelps in pain.

“Feck! Stupid fecking bed!”

Swallowing laughter, I follow him into the room.