Fifteen
Savannah
Early Monday morning, I place my heels and jacket by my purse at the front door. Liam’s in his track pants and sweaty T-shirt in the kitchen.
“I guess I should be thankful your first line of business wasn’t asking me to go on a run this morning.” I walk by him, pretending not to notice how the wet fabric is glued to his abs.
He unscrews the lid of his water bottle. My guess is it was a giveaway at Smokin’ Guns since it has the company logo. He has bottles of water in the fridge for any visitors, but he always uses that water bottle. Maybe he’s a closet environmentalist.
“That’s step three.” His voice is so serious, I turn around with my yogurt in hand and am relieved by his smirk. “Plus, you’re already a runner.”
“I am, but I like to do it alone.”
He nods. “I can re
