The Coldest Summer✓

Forty-six

"A penny for your thoughts?" Liam breaks the silence engulfing us inside the car.

I smile sheepishly, devouring the sight of him handling the driving wheel with ease. "Well, it'd cost you more than that, Mr. Intense."

My reply is playful, just as I'm feeling right now.

His eyes narrow at me. "Mr... What?"

"Err... that came out wrong," I say.

"No, Ms. Jones, I think it was pretty clear to me," Liam says with a boyish laugh, straying his gaze toward the windshield. But he soon glances back at me. "Mr. Intense? Is that me? Why? Am I, by any chance, intense to you or something?"

"Yes?" I reply promptly. His eyes narrow at me. "I mean... Well, it's a long story."

What now? Does he want me to lay everything down about his character?

"Oh, Kira." He huffs an amused laugh, eyes back on the road. "You have all night to tell me, so adopt a new strategy if you want to avoid the issue."

I believe him, but what does he want me to say? That I named him rightly so because he was more of a grumpy guy who allegedly took my attention all the time.

"Okay, you were moody, a bit scary, and so unpredictable," I state truthfully. He glances at me with a frown. "Also, you always had this inexplicable look in your eyes, as though I gave you too much to process whenever you looked me in the eyes."

Maybe it's a biased analysis, but he gave me that impression many times.

"Me?" he utters, astonished.

"Yes, you," I answer. "So I figured that name would suit you best."

He eyes me for a long moment before stretching his lips into a wide smile. "You're crazy," he says simply.

Crazy for you? That's stale news, honey.

Liam returns his utter concentration on the road, lines of concentration settling on his face. As for me, I have a lot to think of, and the most important thought is to wonder what he's thinking at the moment. I hope it's not about the incident.

I heard him earlier, without his knowledge, asking someone on the phone if they have any contacts in LAPD, and I'm sure it's regarding Jeremy. I want everything to end so our life doesn't get affected by that incident.

At Beverly Hills, the car stops at some posh restaurant where we order our dinner and two glasses of wine. Liam's phone chirps as we eat, and a little smile escapes his lips. He glances at me briefly before picking up.

"So you're flying to London tomorrow?" he asks, taking a glass of water toward his lips. "No, I'll stay a little longer, but if it gets too tough let me know. I've taken enough time reading their portfolio; I know exactly where to pin them," he says, then pauses for a long while, only nodding and humming a yes. "Oh, your professor?" He now stares playfully at me, and the name tells me who's on the line. "Here, it's Malik." He hands me the phone.

My heart leaps, and the recollection of that kiss in Miami makes me uncomfortable now that Liam is here. I place his phone on my ear with a curt smile.

"Hi there," I croak. Through the phone, I hear Malik clearing his throat. "Have you caught a cold during the summer?"

Liam leaves for the restroom, and maybe it's good this way for the sake of the ongoing conversation with his best friend.

"No, Professor, I'm perfectly fine," Malik replies coolly, and it's not how I've known him to respond. "How are you?"

A sharp breath escapes my lungs.

"I'm good. And you?"

Easy, Kira! You can still fix this.