Wounded Page 3

  Now it’s Liam’s turn to look horrified. “I’m not using store-bought dye on my hair.”

  “Then you’re not staying with me.” I square my shoulders and head to the door, fighting laughter at the absurdity of this conversation.

  “Wait,” they say in unison.

  “I’ll go to the store and get him some clothes.” Brent looks so dejected I’d feel sorry for the guy if he wasn’t such a pain in the ass.

  “And some hair dye.” I look pointedly at Liam and he nods.

  “And the dye,” echoes Brent.

  “Great. You,” I say, pointing at Liam. “Get in bed and stay there. If I have to come in here and plug that machine in one more time, the deal is off. You,” I say to Brent. “Nothing fancy. Normal stuff. Understand?”

  To my surprise, Liam crawls into bed and Brent starts fishing in his pocket for his keys. Overwhelmed by it all, I turn on my heel and walk out of the room, making a beeline for the nurse’s station and praying that Lexi is there.

  It must be my lucky day because there she is, leaning on the counter, reviewing an EKG report, a pen stuck between her cherry lips.

  “You cut Gabe’s hair, don’t you?” I ask as I arrive beside her.

  “Hello to you, too,” she says without looking up. “And yes. I do it myself because he’s too young to know if I do a bad job.”

  “So, theoretically, you could cut a man’s hair.”

  Lexi looks up, squinting at me. “What’s going on with you?” Her eyes go wide. “Are you sweating? Why do you look like you’re trying not to throw up?”

  “I did something,” I suck in my lips and stare my friend in the face.

  “What did you do?”

  “It’s probably nothing more than a cover story. As soon as Brent leaves, we’ll go our separate ways and nothing will come of this…” I trail off, the shock over what I’ve just done setting in.

  “Who’s Brent? Who needs a cover story?” Lexi flares her hands and leans forward, waiting with wide eyes as a family passes in a flurry of balloons and stuffed animals. “Details, Bay,” she whispers when they’re far enough away not to hear.

  “Liam McGuire may or may not be staying with me for the foreseeable future.”

  The pen drops from her fingers and clatters to the counter. “Shut. Up.”

  “I don’t even know how we got here.” I cover my mouth with my hand.

  “I thought you couldn’t stand him.” A smile pulls at the corners of her lips. “You bitch. You’ve been keeping secrets from me.” She leans in. “How long have you been fucking him?’

  “God no! It’s not like that at all.” A doctor comes out of room and looks up, startled by my raised voice. I smile sweetly and shrug an apology, waiting until she’s out of earshot to continue. “He doesn’t want to go back to Los Angeles,” I say, lowering my voice. “His manager’s an ass. And now he’s staying with me. Or not. I’m not really sure. And maybe he’s building me a patio.”

  “A patio?” Lexi stares down the sterile hallway toward Liam’s room. “How in the hell did you go into the room of a patient you hate and come out with a houseguest who might be building you a patio?” She licks her lips. “And why didn’t I get assigned to his room? I mean, I would die for an opportunity like this.”

  I put my back against the counter and look up at the ceiling, squinting into the fluorescent lights. “He’s probably not staying.”

  “You can’t wish it true, babe. Besides. Maybe it’ll be good for you. Maybe you’ll have a chance to loosen the chains on that chastity belt you’ve been wearing ever since Tyler...” She trails off, an apology already making its way onto her face.

  I hold up my hands and give her a look. There’s no reason for Tyler to be anywhere near this conversation and Lexi knows better.

  “Sorry.” Lexi straightens. “I just worry about you.”

  I brush away her concern. “I’m fine.” But nothing about Tyler is a laughing matter and of all people, Lexi would be the one to know. “So, you’ll cut his hair?” I ask after a minute.

  “Whose hair?”

  “Liam’s.”

  “You want me to cut Liam McGuire’s hair?”

  I nod. “Will you do it?”

  “Are you kidding me? Can I keep some of it?” She nods as I grimace. “I’m totally keeping some of it.”

  “You’re weird, Lexi.”

  The rest of our shift passes quickly. The horde of fans faking injury and illness keeps all of us on our toes, making it hard to give time to the people who really need our attention. Before I know it, my day is just about over and I’m standing outside of Liam’s room with Lexi. Gary and Josh study us as we stand there, arm in arm, staring wide-eyed at the door.

  “Back for more, huh?” asks Josh.

  Lexi is visibly vibrating with energy and excitement. “I can’t believe I’m going to meet Liam McGuire!” she says, totally ignoring Josh.

  Me? I say a silent prayer that he’ll decide to go right back to LA and continue being a rich bastard out there with all the other rich bastards and I can chalk this up as another reason why I need to keep my generous streak in check.

  With a decisive nod, we enter the mostly dark room. Outside, dusk settles on Grayson, casting weak shadows across the floor for the little light over Liam’s bed to try to chase back outside. Liam’s sitting politely in bed, staring at what looks like at least fifty Walmart bags piled up against the wall. They’ve removed the IV, getting him ready for release tomorrow.

  “I think Brent went a little overboard,” he says to me with a wry smile.

  “Maybe just a little,” I say. “Did he get the hair dye?”

  Liam gestures to another set of bags crowding the table under the TV. “Among other things.”

  “I’m Lexi.” My best friend steps forward, her hands clasped under her chin. She’s so out of her head right now, I doubt she even realizes she interrupted us.

  Liam’s entire demeanor changes. Gone is the surly man-child and in his place is a warm smile and flirty eye contact. “Hey Lexi,” he says, and if sex had a sound, that would be it.

  As much as I don’t want to be affected by his voice, I am. “Lexi said she could cut your hair. And she promises not to be this weird about it the whole time.” I nudge her with my elbow. “Right, Lex?”

  Lexi blinks and looks at me, biting her lip. “Right.” She swallows and smiles sheepishly. “Sorry.”

  “No need to apologize,” Liam says to her, all sultry smiles and intense eye contact. Then he turns to me, and poof. The surly man-child is back. “Is she gonna dye it, too? Or is that all you?”

  Great. So Lexi gets the sweet heartbreaker and I get to deal with the spoiled star. Sure. That makes sense since I’m the one who offered up my house to him in one ridiculous moment of weakness.

  “I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of dying your own hair.” I smile sweetly as Liam scowls.

  “But I’ll totally do it for you,” says Lexi, earning herself another nudge of the elbow. “I don’t mind. Not even a little bit.”

  “Anyway,” I say before Liam can reply. “Lexi will cut your hair tonight. You can dye it when we’re gone, just like a big boy.” I arch an eyebrow at him as Lexi gasps. “I don’t work tomorrow, but I’ll be here to pick you up. If you’re still staying with me. I mean, now that Brent’s gone, we can be honest. You really aren’t staying with me, right?”

  “Oh, I’m totally staying.” Liam runs a hand up the back of his neck. “I’m not going back to LA. Not while my face is still healing. Maybe not ever.”

  “I get that you don’t want to go back there. If you and that Brent are any indication of the kind of people in that city…”

  “Hey,” says Liam, looking genuinely hurt.

  This time, it’s Lexi who nudges me with her elbow. “Be nice, Bay,” she says, looking me full in the face and pleading with her eyes for me not to mess this up.

  “Yeah.” Liam smiles weakly and I get the sense that I’m looking past th
e persona and seeing a glimpse of the real man. “Be nice, Bay.”

  My nickname sounds funny coming from him. I roll my eyes, surprised to find myself smiling. “In all seriousness though,” I say, perching on the end of his bed. “Would you be more comfortable in a hotel?” I glance at Lexi who looks horrified. “Maybe we can find a bed and breakfast or something…” I trail off, realizing how desperate I sound. “I mean, let’s be real. You and I barely know each other and we don’t exactly get along. It’s kind of a stretch for us to be roommates.”

  Liam runs a hand through his hair. “I’m up for the challenge if you are.” He holds my gaze and there’s something running beneath the surface, something he’s not saying but begging me to understand.

  “We’ll just take it a day at a time,” I say, confused by what I think I saw. “You might find that life here in Grayson is too slow for you. And by the time you find a more permanent place to stay, you might really miss LA.”

  Liam drops his head back on his pillow and his eyelids droop closed. A dark circle stands out under his one visible eye, vibrant against his gray skin. Throughout all the hubbub and craziness of the day, I forgot he’s a patient recovering from a nasty injury. He should have been resting, not fighting with me and his manager.

  “You look tired, Liam,” I say, feeling pretty bad for not taking better care of him this afternoon. “Why don’t I bring Lexi back tomorrow, and we can do all the cosmetic stuff after you’ve had a chance to sleep?”

  He peels his eyes open and fights to focus on me. “Actually, can you cut my hair, Bailey? Tonight? I might actually get a decent night’s sleep just knowing it’s done.”

  “Lexi will do a better job…” I used to cut my brother Michael’s hair when we were younger, but that was a long time ago.

  “I’d still like you to do it.” Liam looks … what? Vulnerable?

  I make a face at Lexi and shrug. She gives me a knowing smile, one that says she knows exactly what's going on here even though what she’s got in her head couldn’t be farther from the truth.

  “Bailey will take good care of you,” she says and then turns her back to him, meeting my eyes and fanning her face before leaving the room.

  “Well come on, then,” I say when we’re alone. “Let’s get this done so you can get the rest you need.”

  Liam crawls out of bed and I drag the cheap armchair out of the corner so I can stand behind him. Using a pair of surgical scissors I took from the cart and a comb I snagged from his patient care kit, I go to work cutting his hair. I work silently, fighting memories of Michael sitting in a chair for me, my hands in his hair while he wiggled and complained, both of us trying to find our way through a life that no longer made sense.

  “Thank you,” says Liam, his voice sleepy. “I really didn’t want to be on for your friend. It was nice of her to offer to cut my hair, don’t get me wrong. But you don’t expect anything from me and she expects me to be Liam McGuire. I just can’t pull it off right now. It’s been a long couple days.”

  “Just as long as you don’t expect a miracle out of me. I’m definitely not a stylist from LA.”

  Liam sighs and leans back in the chair. “And that’s why you’re perfect.”

  I watch as he takes another deep breath and lets it out slowly, his shoulders relaxing.

  “Is it hard?” I ask. “Being famous?”

  “You have no idea.” Liam rubs a hand on his thigh. “It’s a lot of work. And a lot of being what everyone expects you to be. Sometimes I go days without ever having a minute to myself to just look tired or…” He trails off and shrugs. “Whatever it is people do when they’re not being watched.”

  “But the money’s got to be nice.” I comb through his hair, lifting it for the scissors.

  “Money isn’t everything.”

  I can’t help but let out a little laugh. “Says the guy who has enough to have everything he needs and then some.”

  “Says the woman who has no clue what it’s like to have people say that about you.” His shoulders drop as he sinks further into the chair. “Don’t get me wrong. I do recognize how blessed I am. It’s just tiring. I’m sure I’ll survive.” His tone of voice shifts, the sound of his persona sliding back into place and covering up the tiny glimpse of the man behind the image.

  I finish the job lost in my thoughts, my disdain for Liam eroded by the tiny peek of what it’s like to be him. It really makes me wonder what the rest of his life is like? Not the stuff we see splashed over the tabloids, but all the behind-the-scenes stuff? When does he ever get to relax? After I finish cutting his hair, he looks so exhausted I offer to color it for him, too.

  When everything’s said and done, I survey the results. All in all, I didn’t do half bad, if I do say so myself. The darker hair color sets off his eyes, and the stubble showing up on his cheeks highlights the strength of his jaw and cheekbones. He looks way less like a boy and way more like a man. I’m sure what I just did would be damn near sacrilegious to his fans, but I’ll chalk it up as an improvement.

  Liam falls asleep before I even finish pulling the covers up around him. I check to make sure he has a glass of water on his bedside table before turning off the lights and leaving the room with as many of the Walmart bags draped over my wrist as I can manage. I’m so lost in my thoughts, the hour-long drive home passes without me realizing. And, while I imagine Liam sleeping heavily after the day he’s had, I can’t sleep at all. My mind is on fire, spinning in circles over this stupid arrangement. Hours pass while I toss and turn, and I’m up and out of bed before the sun breaks above the horizon. I’m going to have a complete stranger living in my house for who knows how long. A complete stranger who’s so famous half the world will be on my doorstep the moment someone notices him.

  BAILEY

  When I get back to the hospital in the morning, Liam is up and dressed in his Walmart clothes, looking almost like a normal man. Well, as normal as a man that good-looking ever can.

  “What do you think?” he says, opening his arms wide as I walk in the room.

  I nod my approval. “Not bad.”

  “Not bad?” Liam looks down at the jeans that hug his ass just a little too perfectly. “I look damn good and you know it.”

  “I know you’re a cocky ass,” I say with a little laugh. If we’re going to be living together, we need to figure out how to be in the same room without wanting to kill each other.

  “Well yeah. That too. But when you look this good…” Liam gives me one of his most winning smiles and I roll my eyes to cover up the little smile that plays across my lips in return.

  “How are you feeling this morning?” I ask. “You look like you got a good night’s sleep.”

  Liam nods. “I did. And I needed it.” He licks his lips, uncertainty flitting through his eyes. “No bandage today.” There’s a question flickering across his face as he awaits my judgment.

  “I see that.” I bob my head and shove my hands in my back pockets. “Looks like things are healing pretty well.” Oh my god. Kill me now. This conversation couldn’t be more awkward.

  Liam looks just as uncomfortable as I feel. “You look nice, too. I mean, for Ohio.”

  “For Ohio?” I raise my eyebrows and lean against the wall, folding my arms over my chest.

  “I mean…” Liam rolls his eyes, and looks away before dragging his gaze back to me. “Whatever. That came out wrong.”

  “Yep. It sure did.” I laugh again, taking way too much satisfaction in seeing him look so uncomfortable. “Here. I thought this might be a good idea,” I say as I pull one of Michael’s old ball caps from my purse and hand it to him. When he pulls it on, the effect drops my jaw. Well, almost. It takes the discipline of a monk, but I manage to keep my lips clamped together through the sheer force of my will. He didn’t shave again today and with the ball cap pulled low over his eyes, he looks … good. But I’ll be damned if I let him know that.

  “Take out the earrings,” I say, gathering the rest of the Walmart ba
gs.

  “Good call.” Liam pulls the earrings out of his ears and drops them in the wastebasket. “I’ve always hated those things but my fans love them. And what they want always wins out over what I want.” He says it so matter of factly, I feel another little jab of sympathy for the guy.

  “You good to go?” I ask. “All discharged and everything?”

  “Yep. Lead the way.” Liam gestures towards the door.

  I stoop and gather the rest of the bags. “Just so you know,” I say when he doesn’t look even remotely concerned about helping me with the cumbersome load. “I don’t mind carrying these for you today because you’re still gathering your strength. But as you finish healing, you need to realize that you’re not in LA anymore and I’m not one of your people. I’m not your porter, your maid, or your butler. You’re going to have to start doing things for yourself.”

  Liam looks flabbergasted. “Geez, Bailey. You don’t have to be a dick about it.”

  “Me?” My eyebrows hit my hairline. “I’m the dick?”

  Liam laughs, a warm sound, like sunshine on my face. “I mean, here I am, injured. Barely able to stand. And you go off on me because I don’t have the strength to carry a few bags of clothes. That’s harsh.” He winks and I roll my eyes, laughing.

  “Whatever,” I say as he tries to take a few bags from me. “Oh, no.” I pull my arm away. “I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” I give him the sweetest look I can possibly muster and head out of his room, surprised to find myself almost enjoying his company.

  The walk through the hospital to the front door is our test drive. If we can get through here without drawing attention, we might be able to get past the paparazzi waiting for us outside. We make it to the entrance without issue and I pause, take a deep breath, and let it out slowly, staring towards the blinding light streaming through the glass doors.

  “You ready for this?”

  Liam takes a few bags out of my hands. “I know how to handle myself in front of the cameras.” He gives me a look that borders just enough on condescending to irritate me. So much for enjoying his company.