A few sunrays pouring from the cracks of the blind fell on my face.

Trying to open my eyes, I winced and closed them back again quickly.

I knew people were sensitive to light when they woke up, but this was different. I felt as if someone were holding a torch right in front of my eyes.

Bringing my hands up, I pinched the bridge of my nose. I had an excruciating headache, as if someone were squeezing my skull tightly. And that wasn't everything. My mouth was parched, making me wonder if I had swallowed a dozen cotton balls by mistake. And I felt like I had received a hundred punches straight into my stomach.

My current condition was probably the literal description of death warmed over—only it wasn't so warm.

Blinking several times, I finally opened my eyes. I pushed myself to a sitting position with difficulty and looked around the room.

Something seemed off, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

It took me a while of more blankness and cluelessness until I finally figured it out...

This wasn't my freaking room!

Jumping out of bed quickly, I immediately regretted it when the room started spinning and I fell back onto the bed. I closed my eyes and held my head for a couple of seconds, trying to ease the dizziness.

I stood up again, slowly this time, so I wouldn't lose my balance again. Looking at myself, I found I was still in the same clothes I was wearing yesterday except for my blazer, which was on the bed, next to where I was sleeping.

What the hell happened?

The last thing I remembered was that I went to a bar with Ava and Caleb, then I had a shot of tequila, or maybe they were shots—lots of them.

I groaned. I felt gross, and I was dying to take a shower, but that was the least of my concerns right now because first, I had to figure out where the hell I was.

Walking out of the room slowly, I found myself in the middle of a modernly furnished apartment. My eyes wandered around for a while until they settled on the kitchen. What I saw there caused my eyes to widen, and my mouth almost hit the floor.

There stood Liam, shirtless and making breakfast. My eyes automatically wandered to his well-built body and defined abs.

I shook my head to regain concentration and returned to think about what the hell happened that led me to this situation.

"Oh, you're awake."

Liam's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Y—Yeah," I muttered, looking at him sheepishly. I was trying so hard to remember what happened.

"I met you at the bar last night. You somehow got yourself stumbling drunk, and then you passed out," he explained, probably noticing the perplexed expression on my face.

"I don't know where you live, so I brought you here. And don't worry, I slept on the couch," he said with a slight grin.

A few pieces of yesterday's events hit me like a bus, making me wish for the ground to open up and swallow me down. I was still trying to prove myself to him and show him I was a good agent, yet I ended up being so wasted that he had to drag my ass home.

I slapped my forehead mentally. Why the hell would I do that? And what the hell did I do when I was intoxicated? Or say...

My eyes widened when I started remembering the conversation I had with Liam the other night.

"Hey, are you okay?" Liam asked.

I could really see genuine concern in his eyes. I locked eyes with him for a few seconds, saying nothing, still taken aback by what I had told him.

"Y—Yeah," I finally uttered, my tone a little low. Before I continued, I took a deep breath. "I'm really sorry, Liam. I have probably caused you a lot of trouble."

He gave me a soft smile. "You didn't cause any." Then I watched as his smile turned into his trademark smirk. "Besides, it was good seeing Miss Know It All a little drunk. Maybe I should have taken a picture."

I gave him a genuine smile, but it was shortly gone when my mind drifted back to what I had told him. "About what I told you yesterday, it's—"

He interrupted me before I could continue. "I will not open up that subject again unless you feel like talking, okay?"

I was a little taken aback by this side of him as I wasn't used to it, but a part of me felt like I could really trust him, and I found that to be strange. I had never felt that way toward anyone before.

"Thank you." I gave him a grateful smile.

He returned the smile, then he seemed as if he had remembered something. "I was just making breakfast. Would you like something to eat?"

I felt a nauseating feeling at the mention of food. I made a sad face before replying. "Well, I don't think my stomach finds breakfast an appealing idea at the moment."

He chuckled. "I will bring you an aspirin. It should ease the headache a little," he said. Then, he disappeared for a while and came back fully dressed, a couple of aspirins and a cup of water in his hands.

I took them from him with a grateful smile and gulped them down quickly, hoping they would help with the grumpy headache that felt more like torture.

He walked back to the kitchen. "Hey, what does your stomach think of the idea of coffee?" he asked, gesturing to the coffee pot in his hands.

"I think coffee doesn't sound so horrible?" I said, but it sounded more like a question, as I feared my stomach was going to disagree with me.

Liam chuckled a little as he poured us two cups of coffee.

My eyes wandered a little around the apartment as I waited for him to return with the coffee. They fell on a wall-mounted table that caught my attention. It had a couple of photographs and some other stuff on top of it.

I looked at the photos in intrigue. One of them was a picture of who I guessed was a little Liam with his family, and the other one was of Liam and another guy who seemed to be close to him.

"Here," said Liam as he handed me the cup of coffee.

He caught me staring at the photos. Great, now he must think that I was nosy above everything else. But I sighed in relief when I looked up at him and saw that he looked relaxed, and a slight smile was still playing on his lips.

"That's my family," he said, gesturing to one of the photos.

"You were a cute kid."

"I used to get into a lot of trouble."

"Why am I not surprised?" I gave out a little chuckle before I looked at the other photo. "Is this your brother?" I asked, pointing at the photo of him and the other guy.

I watched as his smile dropped and he stared at the photo for a while.

"No, he was my partner," he spoke up, not looking at me.

I was a little surprised. "I thought you didn't work with partners."

"I did. Once." He let out a little sigh, still not looking at me. "He was also my best friend. We got into the FBI academy together, and we became partners after graduation. The partnership didn't last for too long, though. He died in the line of duty."

My eyes widened. I was startled and didn't know what to say. "Liam... I—I'm sorry."

He gave me a slight smile, then he looked at the photo again. I knew his mind must have taken him on an unpleasant trip down memory lane.

"We were assigned to a case. A teenage girl was abducted, and we managed to figure out the identity of the kidnappers and their whereabouts. They were keeping her in an old, abandoned house.

"We made it there and were supposed to wait for backup because we didn't know exactly how bad the situation was. But then we heard loud screams coming from inside the house and we knew the hostage must have been in imminent danger. So we rushed to the house and raided it alone, without backup."

"Liam, you don't have to," I tried to tell him because I knew exactly how uncomfortable it would feel to talk about something like that. Also, he didn't have to share such a secret with me just because I shared mine with him.

"No, I want to," he told me.

I nodded in understanding.

He shifted his gaze away once more. "When we entered the place, we found ourselves face to face with a handful of armed men. We put up a really hard fight, but as they say, abundance overcomes courage. We both got shot. My shot wasn't fatal, but my partner wasn't as lucky as I was. He received a shot in the chest; the bullet pierced through his heart, causing him to breathe his last breath instantly at the scene." He looked at the ground. "The loss... I couldn't handle it. I blamed myself for a long time because nothing like that would have happened if we had just waited for backup."

Looking at him softly, I knew exactly how hard that could be. I took a step closer to him and put my hand on his. I felt he was a little surprised by my sudden touch.

"It wasn't your fault. I understand you couldn't stand still when you heard the hostage screaming. I probably would have done the same thing."

"I didn't want to be always reminded of what happened, so I asked to be transferred, and that's why I moved to New York," he said, then he looked at me with a half-smile. "Here you go; now you know why I moved to New York, and why I didn't want to work with partners."

Giving him a compassionate smile, I decided not to add anything else. He was right. Now, I had a better understanding of why he hated working with partners. He was too afraid that the past might repeat itself again.

Liam put on a façade that made most people think he was harsh, cold, and arrogant. But I believe that version of him was only a shell and a self-defense mechanism more than anything. He didn't want to get himself attached to anyone. And now, I really could see that he had a totally different side to him—a side that was perhaps his most genuine self.

I stayed for a while more with Liam. We decided not to broach those subjects again, so we talked about random stuff, and we finally started getting to know each other better. After that, Liam drove me home because my car was still parked in front of that bar.

The first thing I did when I made it home was to take a long, warm shower, then I put on a comfy pajama before I crawled under the covers.

Thoughts about Liam and what happened overwhelmed me as I lay down in my bed.

I knew I had some trust issues, and I never opened up to people easily. But, I really felt that I could trust Liam even though we hadn't spent a long time together.

Yawning, I felt my eyes becoming heavier. I rolled over in my bed and closed them.

Eventually, the hustle and bustle of New York faded, and I was sleeping deeply.

I didn't remember having any nightmares that night.