Chapter 62 My Name Is Red.

Chapter 62 My Name Is Red.
~SCARLETT.
I blinked at him.
Once.
Twice.
"You like me?" I echoed, like he'd just spoken in Morse code.
And then I burst into a full-blown, body-shaking laugh that echoed across the yard and made him flinch.
"Good one," I said, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye. "You really had me there for a second."
But he didn't laugh. Just stood there, clutching that awkward little bouquet, amber eyes painfully sincere, like he'd just confessed something sacred.
Oh God.
He was serious.
The laughter died on my lips. "Wait... you're not joking?"
He shook his head slowly, and I stared at him, stunned. "How do you even like me?"
Shifting the flowers from one hand to the other, he said in a quiet voice, "I've been watching your performances for months. Every time, I asked for a private dance... but they always said you didn't do those."
He gave a nervous little laugh. "It felt like the universe was blocking me. Like I wasn't supposed to talk to you."
I said nothing, arms hanging loosely at my sides.
"And then my birthday came," he went on, eyes darting to the floor, " I figured... maybe this time would be different. Maybe the universe would finally cut me a break. My friends and I came in early, I asked for you again... and you actually said yes. Even though you usually only perform once a night."
I lifted a brow. "So you think that was fate?"
He gave a sheepish smile. "You singled me out. You didn't have to, but you did. You gave me a lap dance-something you never do. And the way you looked at me... like I was the only one in the room." He paused, voice softening. "If that's not fate, I don't know what is. So yeah, I took a shot. I came back, hoping I'd run into you. Maybe talk. And when I heard about this family thing... I thought, maybe this could be the start."
He stared at me with so much hope, like we were standing in some movie where the sad boy gets the girl.
Except I wasn't that girl.
And this wasn't that movie.
Rubbing a hand over my face, I tried to process all this. "You realize I'm 26, right?"
"And?"
"And you're, what... twenty-two?"
"Twenty-three," he corrected. "And I graduate next year."
I snorted. "Great. You're almost old enough to rent a car without extra insurance."
He didn't respond, just gripped those stupid flowers tighter.
I had nothing against women who liked younger guys. More power to them.
But me? That was never my thing.
Especially not now.
Not after every man I'd let in left me with something to stitch shut.
I sighed. "Look... you seem like a really sweet guy. You do. But I'm-"
My words caught midair. Because across the street, something shifted. A moving truck had parked in front of Mrs. Winslow's house.
That didn't make sense. Just yesterday, right before her shocking departure, she told me she was retiring to one of those luxury homes that only people with deep pockets and powerful friends could get into. She never said a word about selling her place. Definitely didn't mention who would be moving in next.
But here we were. Less than twenty-four hours later, and someone was already unpacking?
I frowned, confusion blooming into something sharper: unease. 
Then I saw the sports car parked beside the truck. Sleek. Deep Blue. Familiar in a way that made my stomach twist into knots.
No. It couldn't be.
Squinting, my heart skipped a beat as my thoughts scrambled. I knew that car. I knew it.  
It was the same one that picked me up on the last day of the Le Casa Rosa all-women, three-day camping trip.
The one Liam carried me into after the whole drugged nightmare.
His car.
And then I saw him.
Liam stepped out like the beginning of a nightmare you can't wake from-tall, and very broad-shouldered.
My throat went dry. My knees turned to water.  
Liam was my neighbor.
Of all places. Of all people.
My living nightmare just got a front-row seat.
Suddenly, it all made sense why Mrs. Winslow had moved. 
She'd lived in that house forever. In the three years I've lived across from her, she never so much as hinted at moving. She practically clung to it like it was part of her. 
Then out of nowhere, she packed up and left for some fancy retirement home?
Yeah. No way that wasn't Liam's doing. 
I swayed, stomach lurching, and then three things happened at once.
First, my knees buckled.
Second, the guy-I still didn't know his name-lunged and caught me just before I hit the floor, arms firm around my waist.
And third... Liam looked up, eyes locking on the guy holding me, and in an instant, his expression shifted. The cool, smug mask dropped, replaced by something darker. Meaner. Predatory.
He slammed the car door shut, and started toward my house, fast, with a fire in his eyes that said one thing loud and clear: he wasn't stopping by to say hello.
Reaching the porch, he climbed the three steps like he owned them. No words. No blink. Just a glare cold enough to suck the warmth from the air.
Stopping a few feet away, his eyes were still on the guy like he was already halfway through ending him.
"Are you okay?" the guy asked, glancing down at me with a furrowed brow. 
His voice was gentle, full of concern.
I wondered if he didn't feel the storm standing just a few feet away.
Jerking upright, I stepped out of the guy's arms even though my legs still felt like jelly. "Yeah. Thanks," I said, forcing calm into my voice.
The silence that came after was thick, charged-every breath suspended in the tension crackling between them. Then the guy turned, slowly, to face Liam, and for the first time, I noticed something different in him.
Gone was the nervous energy. He stood taller now. Shoulders squared. Chin up. 
He didn't look scared. In fact, he met Liam's stare like he wasn't planning to back down.
I glanced between them, stunned.
Two men. Two storms.
Liam, all rage and shadow. The guy, quiet resolve and steady fire.
I didn't even know what I was looking at. But I knew what it meant.
War.
And somehow, I was the battlefield.
"What the actual fuck do you think you're doing here?" I hissed at Liam, finally finding my voice.
That snapped his gaze to me, and his mouth twitched into a smirk, but it wasn't his usual brand of flirty smugness. It was colder. Sharper. Like he knew exactly how deep this would get under my skin... and he liked it.
He took a slow breath. "Is that any way to welcome your new neighbor, doll?"
The nickname hit harder than I expected, and I flinched like he'd reached out and slapped me.
"I told you not to call me that," I bit out. "My name is Red."
He took a step closer. I didn't back down.
His voice dropped. "I'll call you whatever I damn well please...green eyes."
Flexing his jaw, he dared me to challenge him. And I almost did, until a voice interrupted the moment.
"If she doesn't want you in her space..." The guy stepped in front of me, planting himself between us, his stare fixed on Liam. "Then maybe don't act like you're entitled to it. Or her."