Wicked Heart by Leisa Rayven Read Free Book Online Page A

best. And the worst.”
    After kissing me on the cheek, Josh disappears into the evening crowd, and just like that, my security blanket is gone. Being alone with Liam ramps up the tension between us even more.
    We stare at each other for a few seconds before Liam clears his throat. “So, I hear King Lear’s a bit of an asshole. We probably shouldn’t keep him waiting.” He offers me
his arm. “Shall we?”
    It’s so old-fashioned and gallant, I laugh. “I guess we shall.” As soon as I link my hand into the crook of his elbow, he sucks in a quick breath. “Are you
okay?”
    He looks down at my hand on his arm and gives a tight nod. “Yep. Just concerned I may have lied to Josh when I said I’d behave.”
    We head toward the theater, and I’m acutely aware of how soft his skin is beneath my fingers. “Would it help if I told you I don’t sleep with guys I just met?”
    “Not really. I don’t usually sleep with girls I’ve just met, either, but you’re making me want to murder that rule and melt its body with acid.”
    I laugh. “Well, we have three hours of Shakespeare about a mad, violent, misogynistic monarch ahead of us. I’m sure by the time we’re done, sex will be the last thing on our
minds.”
    He gives me a skeptical shrug. “If you say so.”
    When we walk out of the theater three hours later, it’s clear Liam’s skepticism was well-founded. My entire body is buzzing with energy. Not only was the production
incredible, but sitting next to him in a darkened theater for all that time was like low-voltage electrocution.
    I’ve never had such a powerful reaction to a man before.
    “So,” he says. “That was amazing.”
    “It really was. Thanks for the ticket.”
    “Thanks for the company.”
    I hear us making lame small talk, but there’s nothing lame about what’s passing between us. I’ve got so much adrenaline going on, I feel like I could Hulk-jump into traffic and
flip over a cab.
    Liam looks around and bounces on his toes. “I don’t know about you, but I’m too buzzed to go home yet.”
    “Same.”
    “I was hoping you’d say that. Come on.”
    As we push through the after-show crowds and head back toward Times Square, Liam puts his hand in the middle of my back so we don’t lose each other. It adds another layer of tension to my
already overworked adrenal glands.
    At this time of night, the atmosphere in the Broadway area is electric. There are thousands of people pouring out of all the theaters, giddy and high in the way only live theater can make
someone. Liam and I dodge and weave, but I have no clue where we’re going. After a while he gives up trying to steer me from the rear and grabs my hand so he can lead me instead. His fingers
are warm and rough, and the shape of them feels so familiar it’s bizarre.
    “Where are we going?” I ask.
    He looks back at me and smiles. “Does it matter?”
    I know I should be cautious because I know so little about him, but for some reason, I feel safe. Everything about him is brand-new and familiar at the same time. Like there’s been a tune
playing in my head for my whole life, and he’s finally given it words.
    After we pass through the mayhem of the main square, we travel a few blocks down and head toward the river. At last, he stops at a doorway shoehorned between a thrift shop and a dry cleaner.
    “This is my building,” he says, and brushes his thumb against the back of my hand. “My apartment’s old and cramped, but . . . do you want to come up?”
    I look at the grimy door. “Do I have to?”
    He chuckles. “Of course not. I just . . .” He takes a step forward, and my breath catches. “I don’t want to say good night yet. I don’t have any alcohol, but I have
milk and cookies. And if you play your cards right, I’ll show you my roof garden.”
    “Is that a euphemism?” I’m surprised at how husky my voice sounds.
    The way Liam’s gaze falls to my mouth, I think he likes it. He leans forward, and