I get home quickly from the gym to make sure my house is in order for Savannah’s arrival. I want her to see that I take care of myself and will take care of her, too. I want her to fall into the space easily and be content in my home. She was hesitant to give her address a week ago—now she is willing to come over for the night. I don’t want to fuck this up. I didn’t intend to ask her to stay with me tonight. I didn’t even think I would see her, but I can’t deny the pull in my chest when I walked into the gym to see she was the only person there.

Savannah was running on a treadmill under a large light. It looked like she was in a spotlight—just for me. I stood there watching for a moment, taking in how utterly sexy she looked running. There wasn’t a damn thing in this world that could have kept me from walking toward her at that moment. I had to have her at my house, in my bed. I had to refrain from tossing her over my shoulder and just bringing her home. Thank Christ she said yes.

I run inside to my bedroom, changing the sheets as fast as possible. I’ll have to thank Olivia and my mom for making me get a second set of sheets. When I let them have free reign of my place, I didn’t think they would buy new sheets and towels. Way more sheets and towels than I thought a single guy could ever use, but now I am thankful for their foresight.

I toss the dirty laundry into the hamper, along with the towel I have been using all week. I hang fresh towels on the rack. I feel like a chick going through this much trouble, but I refuse to lose my shot at this girl over something stupid. I’m not usually as lazy as I was this week, but this new job is demanding long workdays. I’m okay with that—I thoroughly enjoy the work that I do.

I look around the large master bedroom, making sure everything is in place. The king-size bed dominates the space with a deep red comforter and slate gray sheets. The black leather headboard is low and angular. Two cedar and black iron bedside tables flank the sides. A large leather chair sits in one corner of the room at a good angle to see the large flat-screen on the far wall. Everything is clean and in its place. Before I head to the living room to clean, I take the fastest shower known to man. I throw on a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

I rush into the living room, looking at the clock, wondering when she’ll arrive. There isn’t much in the living room to pick up, since I haven’t been able to spend a lot of time at home this week. The one free night I did have, I spent with Hudson and James at the bar. I sit on the couch to wait for Savannah, feeling a foreign nervous sensation in the pit of my stomach. I don’t think I’ve felt this way since the high school basketball state championship game with two seconds left in the game and the ball in my hands. I was nervous, I knew I held the difference between a state champions and the runner-up spot. I won that game. I will win this girl.

The doorbell rings.

I take a deep breath before walking to the door. I’m struck dumb when I open it. Savannah stands under my porch light in a simple white V-neck T-shirt and gray shorts. Her dark, brown hair is wavy and down, framing her face. It’s still partially wet. Her face is free of makeup. I can see the tiniest, lightest freckles along the bridge of her nose. She’s better than every fantasy come to life, more beautiful. More sweet. Real life beats fantasy now.

She clears her throat and scrunches her eyebrows in the most adorable confused look. She points behind me. “Can I come in?”

“Fuck,” I scold myself. “Of course.” I grab her small, purple duffel bag from her hand. She takes a step closer, expecting I’ll back away and let her in, but I can’t go a second longer without kissing her.

“You’ve been beautiful every time I’ve seen you, but wow,” I say, kissing the freckles on her nose. “Comfortable, freshly showered, and here at my house has got to be my favorite look so far.” Besides when you’re coming, I silently add.

She smiles shyly then stands on her tiptoes to give me a delicious, soft kiss. I pull her to me, holding her so tightly, her feet slightly lift off the ground. I step back inside, carrying her with me.

I break the kiss, murmuring against her lips, “I’m glad you’re here.”

She bites her lip, looking up at me through her lashes. “Me, too.”

I place her feet on the ground, still holding her close. “Come on. I’ll give you a tour.”

I step back and she looks around the space. “This is the living room.” I sweep my hand through the air, showcasing the room.

“Your mom and sister did all this for you?”

“Yeah. This is all their handiwork.”

Savannah looks up at me, giving me a wide grin. “That was sweet of you to let your mom decorate for you.”

“Mom and sister.”

She looks like she’s holding in a laugh, her chest vibrates as her smile twitches—it’s so goddamm adorable.

“Even sweeter,” she says mocking me. I know a lot of grown men wouldn’t want their home professionally decorated by their mother or sister, and probably wouldn’t admit to their girlfriend who decorated for them.

Girlfriend? Is that what she is? Is that how I think of her?

I shake myself from those thoughts before I slip and tell her she’s my girlfriend. I have a feeling she’d run out the door.

“It’s not really sweet. More of a self-preservation thing. I think they might kill me if I denied them the opportunity.” My face pinches in thought. “And, the women in my family seem to always get their way.”

Savannah throws her head back in laughter. Her unique cackle is filling my house and chest with something I can’t describe.

“They did a great job. It looks fantastic.”

I smile, pleased she likes it. I take her into the kitchen. “Kitchen isn’t really stocked. I didn’t have time to shop this week, but I have…” I open the refrigerator door and look around. “Beer. And that’s about it.”

I lean back around the door, giving her a smile.

She smiles back radiantly. “As long as you have the basics, right?”

“Right,” I tell her chuckling. “We’ll go have breakfast tomorrow.”

She opens her mouth, but I beat her to it—“My treat, of course.” I send her a wink then pull her behind me, continuing on the tour.

“My office,” I sa,y pointing to a room on the right. I don’t take her into the office, deciding to continue on to the bedrooms. Or more specifically, my room. “Empty guest bedrooms with a Jack and Jill bathroom.” I point to the left side of the hallway.

When I reach the end of the hall, I open the door then step out of the way, letting her enter before me. “My room,” I tell her after she enters the space. She stays just inside the threshold looking around. Her gaze lingers on the king bed. A heated blush creeps up her neck and cheeks.

My dick immediately responds. Not tonight, calm down, I think to myself. I tamp down my reaction as much as possible. I can’t help the words that spill from my lips—“I can’t wait to be inside you in that bed, but not tonight, baby.”

Her blush does exactly what I want it to—it spreads down her chest and deepens in color.

I walk around her to the bed, setting her duffel bag down. I turn back to see her still blushing, and I hold back the groan I desperately want to release.

“Come on,” I tell her. “Let’s hang out in the living room for a while.” We walk hand in hand back toward the living room.

I settle her on the couch before I ask, “Want some water or beer? The options are endless.”

She laughs. “I’ll just take some water for now. Maybe a beer in a bit.”

I go into the kitchen to get us glasses of water. When I get back to the living room, she’s sitting on the couch with her spine straight. She’s almost on the very edge of the couch, like she’s readying herself to bolt at any second. I place the drinks on the coffee table then settle into the corner of the couch.

Once I’m settled, I pull her into my side, juggling her until she’s tucked under my arm, leaning into me with her head on my chest. I act like we’ve done this every day. I feel her stare on the side of my face. I give in and look at her, shooting her a grin. She fights one of her own, shaking her head, muttering, “Damn barbarian.”

And then, even softer to herself, “Why do I like it so much?”

My grin widens, threatening to split my face. I resist puffing out my chest in pride. I love having this effect on her.

I grab the remote from the side table to turn on the TV. We flip through a few channels, talking about some of our favorite shows. I switch inputs, bringing up my network of movies. “What do you feel like watching? I have a pretty big selection, including chick flicks that are my sister’s favorites.”

I hear her whisper to herself, “Who knew barbarians could be so sweet?”

She looks up at me. “I’m good with just about anything. Except horror. I’m a big baby when it comes to horror. You won’t sleep a wink if you make me watch that, and believe me, you won’t be staying awake because we’re having fun in bed.”

I laugh, keeping that in mind. I’d love to watch a horror flick with her one day, but not tonight. I’d do anything she needed me to, including standing guard at the door armed to the teeth—with my guns and knives protecting her from a monster that doesn’t exist.

* * *

After scrolling through a good portion of my movies, we finally decide on a comedy. Action and thrillers are my favorite movies, but I want to hear Savannah’s crazy cackle. It works like a charm.

I’m paying more attention to her than to the movie. When something she doesn’t like happens onscreen, her nose wrinkles. When something funny happens, she throws her head back into the crook of my arm and laughs, holding her stomach. This reaction makes me laugh.

Savannah glances up at me through her lashes a few times, and I don’t hide that I’m watching her. I give her a slow smile each time, turning those cheeks a gorgeous crimson. I take it as a win when she doesn’t tell me to stop looking at her. Having her here on my couch in my house feels too damn good.

Towards the end of the movie, Savannah’s laughs are quieting down before they stop altogether. Her eyes are closed and her breaths are even. I tighten my hold on her, feeling protective of everything I have in my arms.

I turn off the TV before lifting her in my arms to take her to bed.

She screams when we’re halfway down the hall and starts beating on my chest. I freeze.

Tears are streaming down her face, and she’s still screaming—alternating between screams and different versions of “Let me go.” I drop her on her feet carefully. If I had to guess, I’d think she’s still at least partially asleep. Her eyes are far off and distant.

“Savannah,” I say calmly. I place my hands on her shoulders to keep her steady, repeating her name hoping she will calm down. She keeps punching my chest as I say her name louder and louder. Slowly she stops punching me, uncurling her fists, and lays her palms flat on my chest.

Her eyes are still filled with tears, holding confusion and questions.

“Savannah.”

“Li—Liam?” She croaks out, throat raw from screaming.

“Are you okay?”

“What happened?”

I look into her eyes, baffled she has no recollection of what just happened. My muscles are tense, posture rigid. I don’t know what’s going on in her head, but I intend to find out. And soon. She needs to stop keeping this shit to herself. I know she’s battling some dark demons. The things I’ve kept to myself are probably nothing compared to her secrets.

“You fell asleep on the couch, I was carrying you to bed.” I hesitate, unsure how to phrase her freak out. “You started screaming.”

“Oh.” She tears her eyes from mine and looks at her feet. My hands have stayed on her shoulders this whole time. I move them down to her hips, but she flinches in my arms, trying to back away from me. I take my hands off her body and take a small step back, giving her space.

“Gorgeous,” I whisper. She still won’t look at me and hasn’t said anything else. “Look at me.”

She inhales deeply, squaring her shoulders like she’s preparing for battle. When she lifts her head, I’m stunned by the fight in her eyes. She’s determined, fierce, and defiant.

“I should go,” she says with resolve. She makes a move to go around me, but I block her escape.

“Oh, no, you don’t. You’re staying.”

She stares at me, defiance racking up another notch. If she looked down right now, she’d see the hard outline of my erection. Her determination is so damn arousing. I try my best to curb my body’s reaction. Jesus, she’s fucking sexy. I shake my head, forcing myself to get rid of those thoughts.

“Excuse me?” Venom laces her voice, making me even harder and sending chills up my spine.

“We’re doing this. Here and now.”

“Doing what?” she hisses.

“You’re telling me what that was about.”

She looks away from me, but thank fuck she doesn’t look down. She looks at the wall next to her. I watch the profile of her face closely as the mask slips into place. When she turns back to me, her eyes are innocent and her face shows embarrassment.

She looks away again, perfecting the act when she says, “I’m sorry. I act out when I’m embarrassed. I just wanted to leave so I didn’t have to see you laugh at me or something.”

I stay quiet for a moment. Her eyes watch me in her peripheral vision. I know she’s lying. I don’t know if I should call her out on it or see where she’s trying to take this.

“Embarrassed?”

“I had a bad dream, when you moved me it just made it worse. I can be a ... fitful sleeper.”

That was the truth. I don’t know how exactly I can tell her truths from her lies, but I can. If I had to guess, I would bet she’s trying to lie as little as possible, while still toeing the line of truth. I make a decision to leave her be—in this lie. I’ll eventually know everything. I want to push her for information, but I don’t want to scare her away.

“What was your nightmare about?”

She looks me directly in the eye. A bit of anger returns. “Liam, if you want me to stay, I will.”

“I want you to stay. I also want to make it very clear that I would never laugh at you.”

“I’ll stay.”

A smile starts to form on my lips, and I move closer to her, but she retreats, keeping her hand up in front of her. “On one condition.”

My smile falls, muscles tense. I cross my arms over my chest and demand, “What’s the condition?”

“You drop this. At least for tonight. I don’t want to talk about my...” She stops, as if looking for the right word. “Nightmare. It was just a dream. I want to spend the rest of the night being happy with you.”

I’d bet every one of my possessions that “nightmare” was a memory. My blood boils with fury that I’m barely able to control. I don’t know her past, but she’s here with me tonight. I know she’s safe. I suppress my instinct to push until I know every answer.