"That was quite a scene. Who is that woman? She kind of looks familiar," Sam asks about the wild brunet.

"Sheila Mateo, the CEO of SM fashion," Natasha answers indifferently. "Girls, I gotta go. My puddles must be hungry by now, and I have a sleep to catch on." She is in a rush.

"Oh, sure," I reply.

"I hope to see you again before you leave, huh?" Natasha smiles, and Sam gives her a nod. "Now where is my baby again? He has to drive me home, there's no way I'm taking a taxi like this," she mumbles to herself as she wanders off.

With Natasha gone, my friend finally takes notice of me. She joins me by the pool and starts talking about Malik. We both wonder who that wild brunette is.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks afterwards.

And here we go again.

"Sam. Don't." I give her a stern look.

"Okay. Okay." She surrenders, her hands in the air. "Have you seen Liam?" she asks out of the blue. "He wasn't looking great earlier, so I'm wondering how he's doing right now. Would it be awkward if I check on him?" Sam asks.

"It's your choice, Sam. What I think can't dictate what you feel, can it?" I glance up at her, exhausted by this topic.

"Well, I'm not sure." Sam sighs audibly, looking rueful. "It's crazy that I don't function around him. What's wrong with me, Kira? I never fret for a trouser and yet here I am, debating whether to go and ask if he's okay or not. How stupid is that?" She huffs a ridiculous laugh.

"Do you really love him, Sam?" I blurt out, for I'm very curious about this one.

Sam flushes. "I don't know what loving someone means, Kira, frankly speaking. I've never loved before . . . like really loving a guy head over heels. But with him, I feel different." Her voice is amorous, dreamy, her eyes gleaming in a similar design. "I'm trying hard not to show it, because whenever I try to get closer to him, he takes a step back. It really scares me and I know I don't have time as this trip will soon be over."

"Sam," I call nervously, my lips barely parting as the voice comes out. She hums her assent for me to go on. "I have something to tell you and I'm sure it's going to be hard for you to accept—"

His mobile rings, the song I don't know flies up in my ears.

"New number?" Sam scowls at the screen of her mobile. "Hold on, Kiki, I need to get this. Maybe it's from my landlord, because I asked someone to fix a leakage at my place," she tells me while taking the call.

I take a deep breath, partly disappointed, partly relieved. I don't know what I truly feel honestly. As Sam picks the call I take the moment to fetch us some drinks in the kitchen. Or better yet, to escape from the ticking bomb in the shape of my lies and deceit.

I stride in the kitchen and grab a gallon of juice, then the glasses. My thoughts are all over the place, deranged, and my anxiety causes a tremor in my hands. I place everything on the breakfast table, taking a deep breath.

"How should I explain this to her?" I think out loud.

I don't get a chance to do a thing, or think more, as Sam breezes in and snaps, "Kira!"

"What?" I glance briskly at her.

She catches a long breath. "Guess who has just called?"

Not a guessing game, please.

"Who?" I ask.

It takes eternity for her to answer, something that usually annoys me.

She finally speaks, "Well, it was Jeremy. Can you believe Jay is in Miami?"

My throat goes dry and no word comes out.

Jeremy Kruger is the last person I'd want to hear for the rest of my life. I hate the sound of his name itself, and I hate to even think of him.

"What does he want?" I manage to ask.

"To hang, what else? He saw last night's clip, that's why. Apparently he's come with the whole squad for summer, and they want us to meet."

"Okay, do it. They're your friends, right?" I pour the juice without a clear mind.

"You're not going? He asked about you," Sam asks.

"No!" My voice comes out harshly as I gaze up at her. She looks startled, eyes wide. "I mean, I don't feel like going out today," I mutter quietly.

"Fine, I'll just go alone," Sam utters, disappointed. "I hope I won't get lost."

I go back to my room and cuddle at the corner of my bed, thinking of nothing but Jeremy. The feeling is so disgusting that I grimace and hug myself even tighter. No! I don't even want to see him again.

***

I have been standing in front of the window for a while now, my head utterly empty, lost into the sight of the ocean. Its water rolls softly, reflecting the color of the blue sky, and I find myself peaceful momentarily.

It's the sound of my buzzing phone, a call from Malik that brings me back to Earth.

"Malik," I utter as soon as I pick up. "What's up?"

"Professor, are you still at home?" he urges.

"Yeah. Is something wrong?" My voice doesn't conceal my concerns.

"No, not at all," he says, his voice assuring. "I only wanted you to check on Liam. Have you seen him?"

"Not since breakfast,. Why?" My curiosity grows wilder at the thought that I haven't behold my cowboy for a while now.

I hope he is okay.

"Relax, Professor, I don't need you in panic, please," Malik teases, probably aware of my unbidden concerns. "I think our liquor party last night didn't agree well with him. He might've had a little too much to drink and—"

"A little?" I quip accusingly, recalling how many bottles went down last night. Malik's laughter fills my ears. "So you think it's still getting the best of him?" I ask.

"Maybe," Malik replies coolly, his sigh slightly audible. "I know I don't need to ask you to look after him, do I?"

"Don't worry, I'll take care of him," I reply.

Before disconnecting, Malik adds, "Don't fall for it if he insists he's okay—he can be very tough."

"I think I believe you," I say knowingly, for I can tell how stubborn and self-reliant Liam can possibly be; some kind who hardly communicates his inner turmoil.

Malik hangs up after one of his teasing remarks towards my secret romance. God, I wonder how this is going to end. Anyways, I love his relationship with Liam; they are so much like real brothers. Sighing, I begin thinking of the matter at hand.

Now where are you, Mr. Intense?

Without wasting a second more, I walk towards the eastern wing of the house, where the boys sleep. The layout of the building is a lot to take in. It's quite unusual, but in style. I'm not sure which room is Liam's, so I just make a random guess.

I stand in front of the first door, followed by the knock. Hearing no response, I open it and find a gigantic room with no one inside. I can smell Malik's cologne from here, which indicates that it's his bedroom. I subtly draw myself in.

The bed is a little messy, but all clean, which is understandable when it comes to most guys with no help around. But the rest of the room is very neat. I'd love to peek in its adjoining dressing room, but my deceivingly good manners won't let me.

After a small trial and error, I finally reach Liam's room. I barge in after three unanswered knocks, for I can't tell if he's in or not. Well, I guess he's right here! He is fast asleep, covered with a white duvet from the shoulders to his toes.

What a sight!

I take my time contemplating his features, and butterflies dance on my tummy. Why am I getting excited? Get a grip, Kira Jones! Moving further, slowly, I reach the bed and sit down next to where Liam's head lies. But he suddenly opens his eyes, the sound of his breath so delighting.

"Kira?" He squints his eyes, and I love it when he calls my first name.

"Hi," I murmur, staring at him tenderly.

"Oh God." He tries to sit up and I lay some pillows behind his back. "Thank you," he says gratefully, a warm smile splattered on his face.

He's shirtless, hypnotizing me with his masculine profile.

"How are you feeling?" I sit on the bed next to him.

"I'm okay. What a nice surprise." He gives me a sweet smile.

I smile back. "It wasn't really a surprise, actually. It's just . . . everyone has left and I couldn't see you anywhere. But I'm glad you like it."

"I do, baby. Your presence is always a pleasure to me," he says, scooting me to his side.

Baby? Heat rises in my cheeks.

"You're a flatterer, Mr. Darcy. But you don't look good." I immediately eject from his cocoon and palm his forehead, checking his body temperature.

I'm right, he's burning.

"No, I'm not," he breathes.

"Yes, you are," I argue, frowning.

Before I take my hand away he takes ahold of it and pulls me over so that I lean on his shoulders. My insides unfurl, desire pooling in like a flood.

"I'm okay," he insists, his eyes fixed on mine impetuously.

I swallow tightly. "No, you're not. Maybe you should stop drinking now, because it's obvious you can't handle it."

He laughs lightly. "You're very obtuse."

"I'm not obtuse. I'm being serious, and stop laughing." I nudge him, blushing at this close contact.

If he doesn't want to do what I mostly desire right now, he better not touch me like this.

"Or else what?" he challenges me, his voice amused.

"Or else I'll do this!" My lips crushes on his and share a tongue in the throat kiss until I'm breathless.

A wicked smile foams on his mouth when I pull back, and suddenly he holds my face and pulls me back to him.

"Or more?" he says, and we kiss again, passionately and deeper than before.

Oh, I could do this and more forever. Why did we have to meet under these circumstances, huh? What if I met him on a solo trip to London as I always imagined? Would that be more convenient for everyone?

I smile softly at him. "You need to eat. Is there anything I can make for you?" I quiz gently.

"Yes there is," Liam answers. "Stay here with me; I want to hold you in my arms."

I frown.

"Can you be serious for a minute? You need to eat. You had too much alcohol, and your stomach is empty," I snap.

"Come on, eating is boring right now," he whispers sleepily like a baby.

"Well, we could do something spicy if you weren't so barbaric," I mutter under my breath, and I'm glad he doesn't grasp a word.

"Just five minutes, okay?" he says.

"Five minutes." I lay next to him and his warmth spread all over my skin like a summer sun. "You're burning, Liam," I whisper.

"Because you're boiling my blood, Ms. Jones," he replies lazily. "How do you feel today?" His arms hold me closer into an embrace.

"Terrific, now that I'm here with you." I bury my face onto his chest, feeling this terrible urge to ask him to just take me away and forget everything as he suggested last night.

I feel vulnerable, too afraid to lose him.

"Now I feel like you're the one burning," Liam says, making me sniff with a soft laugh. "What are you scheming, Ms. Jones?"

"Nothing. I just love this," I say.

"What?"

"Being in your arms."

"We can do it every day, Kira, if you just say yes," he tells me. I smile, but I say nothing. "Damn, I love you. You know, I never imagined this would happen so soon like this." He hugs me tighter.

"What would?" I ask in a very low tone of voice, enjoying his warmth.

"Me, loving a girl I've just met a week ago." Liam laughs a bit, and I just pinch my lower lip between my teeth. "It's strange, isn't it?"

"Very," I utter.

"At some point I question myself if this is really love or my own infatuation," he proceeds.

"And then, what answer do you get?" I ask, and he takes some time to think. "Do you think it's love?" I add hopefully.

"I think it doesn't matter," he replies quietly. "It's something special, strong, irresistible, very beautiful, and that's what matters to me. It just feels right, so it's not necessary for me to debate what love is. It's what I've decided." He now kisses my forehead, forcing me to face him.

"I'm so sorry, Liam. I don't know how to make things right," I whisper, my eyes watery.

"Stop saying that." Liam cups my face. "It's not your fault, and we will sort it out. Sooner or later—we have to."

Without another word, we keep hibernating and even fall asleep for a while. Well, Liam does, for I stay awake throughout the time with a lot in my head, mainly on what to do.

"Liam." I wake him, sometime later.

"No, Kira. Let's sleep more."

"Jeez! Why did you drink if you're such a baby boy?"

"Because I'm adorable," Liam utters sleepily, making me forget all the troubles in the world with laughter.

"Adorable—my foot! Stop your nonsense and get up." I pull the covers off him, laughing loudly at his cheesy comment.

He laughs along. "Okay, I'll take a shower first then we can go out for lunch."

"Out?"

"Yes, out." He scrambles out of bed, his eyes firm on me. "I know you like taking care of everyone around you, which makes you more special in my eyes, but I want you to take it easy, We're eating out, and that's final!" he orders.

"Okay. I'll take it easy, Sir." I lay back on the mountain of pillows, watching his glorious body moving here and there as he gets himself ready for a shower.

He smirks. "Want to join me?"

"Um . . . yeah." My eyes widen at my own statement.