I hear Savannah’s slight intake of air. Yeah, gorgeous, I’m here and it’s tomorrow. I’ve been sitting at the bar for several hours nursing a beer, listening to her cackle float over the music. Each time I heard her laugh, my chest constricted. I wanted to be in that booth with her and her girls. I wanted her cuddled into my side where I could nuzzle her neck and smell her skin while she enjoys the night with them. I wouldn’t interrupt her ... much. But, I knew that if I wanted this crazy plan to work, I had to wait until at least midnight. And, hope the other part of the plan works itself out.

I smiled when I see Gabe walk into the bar knowing the other part of my plan was now successful. The girls need a ride. I would be Savannah’s ride. She promised she would see me. “Savannah won’t need a ride,” I speak up. “She’ll be with me.”

Gabe turns toward me. I only met him one time, and he must remember that Savannah didn’t want to come with me last time. He steps in front of me. “She won’t be going with you unless she wants to. The girls called me for a ride. I’m not going to leave her with you if she doesn’t want that.”

Valerie pushes Savannah out of the booth. I step around Gabe to catch her as she stumbles. Valerie is smiling like the Cheshire Cat. “Oh, she’s going with him.” She looks at her phone. “Twelve-fifteen. It’s tomorrow. I like how you play, Liam.”

I nod, giving her a smile and wink. Seems like my girl was talking about me. I hope it means I still have a shot at her being mine.

Harper jumps up and pats Gabe’s chest. “Don’t worry, darling chauffeur of ours. Savannah’s got another ride. You can still drop me off.” She turns to Savannah, who has stayed quiet by my side. I never took my arm from around her waist after her stumble out of the booth. She hasn’t pushed me away, making me feel confident.

Harper puts her finger up, shaking it at Savannah. “Remember what you promised.” She steps closer to her. “I’ll be at the store all day tomorrow. Call me.”

Valerie comes over to the huddle. Gabe is glaring at me over their heads. I shrug, happy that I seem to have her friends on my side.

“Call me, too.” The girls hug Savannah. She still hasn’t said a word. I still haven’t taken my arm from her waist.

Finally, Savannah speaks up. “Love you, girls. I promise to call.” She looks up at me. Her eyes are a little glassy, but alert. I saw each shot and bottle of wine that went to their table. I had no intention of letting her go home without me, but seeing her alert makes me excited that it won’t be a fight about going to my place. That excitement doubles when she says, “Ready to go?”

She gives Gabe a kiss on his cheek when she passes. “Thanks for taking care of me. Don’t worry. I’m good.”

His hard stare that has been trained on me softens when he looks at her. He nods. “Call if you need anything.”

I have my girl back in my passenger seat and am taking her home.

* * *

We’re both quiet on the way home, the air crackling around us with tension and chemistry. I can’t stop looking at her, glancing over at her gorgeous face every few seconds. The weight of her stare has me white-knuckling the steering wheel. Unable to go a second longer without touching her, I grab her hand, bringing it to my lap. Squeezing her hand tightly, I refuse to let go. Surprisingly, she doesn’t even try to pull away from my grip.

Parking in the driveway and shutting the engine off is about all I can do once we make it to my house. I don’t make a move to get out of the car. Savannah is staring out the window, looking at the house. I speak for the first time since leaving the bar.

“Savannah.”

“How long were you there tonight?” She swings her head toward mine, gaze intense. I can’t tell if she’s upset that I waited at that bar for her.

“You told me that you would see me tomorrow. Well, today is now tomorrow.” I smile, trying to coax one from her, too. She looks down at her lap, but I see the edges of her lips twitch. “I was there for a few hours. I heard your laugh a few times. Best thing to happen to me this week.”

“Liam,” she starts.

“No.” I put my finger to her lips, halting her words. “Wait.” I sigh deeply. I unlace our fingers and use both of my hands to frame her face. Leaning over the console, I rest my forehead against hers. “Sassy Savannah.” I take another deep breath. I know she’s here with me now, but I wonder if she’s just here to tell me to take a hike before she leaves my life for good. “I’m sorry for being a jackass last weekend.”

“Did you hook up with that girl from the gym?” Savannah whispers so softly, I barely hear it. Her voice trembles.

I lean back, looking into her eyes. “What girl?”

“I saw you.” She looks away and rubs her hands nervously.

“When?” I ask, completely confused. My mind races for any idea of what she’s talking about.

“On Wednesday. I went to Raise the Bar and saw you hitting the bag.”

“Fuck, you were there?” I can’t believe she was there and I didn’t see her. I can’t suppress the shock in my tone.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Fuck,” I repeat, pissed at the girl I can’t even remember. Maybe if she didn’t approach me, we could have solved this days ago.

She pulls away from me, misunderstanding my actions. Tears are filling her eyes.

“No, of course I didn’t hook up with her. I’m pissed because I kept watching the door for you, hoping like a pathetic sap that you would come through that door. I’m pissed that Bimbo Barbie distracted me when you walked up.” My words are rushing out of me, begging her to understand I’m interested in no one except for her.

“I left pretty quickly. If that’s what was happening, I didn’t want to see it.”

“I was trying to talk to you all week, Savannah.”

“I know,” she says, looking down at her lap.

I shake my head. “We need to put that behind us. Let’s pretend this week didn’t exist. You’re here now. We’re together right now. I’m going to try not to be a jackass.”

She laughs like I hoped she would, the sound tugging at my chest.

“Will you come inside?”

“Well, I didn’t plan to sleep on the porch.”

I lean over, grinning like a fool, and kiss her forehead. “Sassy Savannah.”

We hop out of the car. Before I left for the bar, I cleaned my house, hoping this would be the outcome. I was a mess this week. Beer bottles were all over my coffee table, laundry started to pile up. I usher her in in front of me before closing the door and locking it. I begin to pull her to the living room, but she stops me.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” she says.

I’m stunned, wondering what is going on. I didn’t think she would be comfortable going back in there yet. I’m still not entirely sure of her motive, but I’m trying to let her run the show. I change course and head into my bedroom, pulling her after me.

Once we enter, she takes her hand from me and wrings hers together like she’s nervous. She’s looking all around the room, her eyes landing everywhere except for on me. She’s repeating, “Okay, okay, okay,” over and over again to herself. Suddenly she stops and turns toward me.

“I just realized, I won’t have anything to sleep in.”

Going to my dresser and pulling out a T-shirt and shorts with a drawstring, I hand her the stack. I tell her, “I’m sure the shorts will be too big for you, but if you roll them and then pull the drawstring, it will probably work for tonight.”

I thought about taking her home to grab clothes, but I wasn’t risking her changing her mind once she was in her own space. I would have slept on her porch.

“I’m going to splash some water on my face, is that okay?” She’s back to wringing her hands and looking anywhere but at me.

“Of course, baby.”

Her eyes shoot to mine at the endearment. I smile, but she doesn’t return it. She goes into the bathroom, and I head to the guest bathroom, changing into a pair of briefs, sweatpants, and a T-shirt. I’m treading on eggshells trying to get her to stay.

She’s pacing a hole in my floor when I get back. I walk over to her, but she puts her hands up. “Don’t touch me yet. I need to get some things out, and I think it will be easier if you’re not touching me.”

I want to bring her to my chest to hug her, hold her close, smell her skin, taste her lips, consume her. I grit my teeth and remind myself, Try not to be a barbarian. Another voice pops into my head, At least for now.

She’s wearing my T-shirt, but not the shorts. I can’t help but stare at her long, toned, tan legs. I bite my tongue, holding in a groan. Her legs stop pacing, but I still haven’t looked up. I don’t look up from them until they stop nearly in front of me, facing me. I look up to her face. A small smile graces her perfect face. “Shorts didn’t fit.”

“I see that.” My voice is hoarse and strained. I keep reminding myself that she is here to talk. I keep my focus on her face.

“I’m going to tell you everything, Liam.”

“Savannah, you don’t have to. At least not yet. I did a lot of thinking over this past week. I want you. I want you here. If I can only have that with secrets between us, then I’ll learn to deal. There are things I haven’t told you, either. I realized I was shitty because I’m hiding things, too, but I expected you to tell me everything.”

“We have to tell each other everything, Liam. If this is going to work, we’re going to do this right now. I have to tell you everything tonight before I lose my nerve.”

“Savannah, you don’t––”

“Yes, Liam, I do.”

We stare at each other for a few beats. I see the determination in her eyes. She’s going to do this, no matter what.

“There’s something else, Liam.”

“What?” I ask, my gut clenching.

“After I tell you everything, I want you to tell me right away if it’s something you think you can handle. If you can’t, tell me and I will find a way home. If my baggage is too much for you, too much to overlook, I need you to be honest.”

“Nothing will be too much for me,” I insist earnestly, meaning every word. This girl has tied me in knots since I saw her. I can’t walk away because of her so-called baggage. Whatever it is. I’ll figure it out, we will figure it out.

“Don’t say that. You don’t know. It’s fucking ugly, Liam. It’s dirty. It’s messy. It’s unfinished.”

My spine straightens at her last statement. What is she dealing with that’s unfinished?

“Tell me, Savannah.”

She does the last thing I expect her to do. She whips off my shirt over her head, standing in front of me in just a light pink lace bra and matching thong. I can’t hold back my groan this time, seeing her body in front me. I know that’s not what it’s about, though—she’s showing me her tattoo. It’s a lot larger than I thought it would be; it’s expanding her entire stomach.

The only light in the room is the lamp on the nightstand. I stand up and switch on the light to see it better before sitting back down, remembering that she doesn’t want me to touch her or be too close to her. The artwork is stunning. It’s a bird of some sort, a phoenix. The phoenix is rising from a pile of ashes with flames. The wings are extended, taking up the majority of her stomach. The head is looking up and lands right between her breasts. There are words that I can’t quite make out from my position where the flames are.

Why would she hide this? It’s gorgeous, and she looks so damn sexy with the colorful artwork on her taut skin.

“Savannah,” I say, my voice sounding husky even to my ears. I am turned on by seeing her like this, seeing something that almost no one else has. She looks like a fucking badass that is also a lady standing in front of me, with this badass ink and pink panties. “Why would you cover that? It’s gorgeous.”

“It’s not the art I’m covering. I’m covering what the art is hiding.”