"What? You've lived and showered with soldiers. No one ever saw you naked?" It only suddenly occurred to him just how bohemian his childhood must have been. His dad was buttoned up. He was probably born with a suit and tie but Liam recalled walking in on his mother prancing around naked, usually covered in paint, when she taught classes at home. It never phased him. Naked hippies and artists were just background. When his father died, Liam had even posed nude for a few art classes to get by. The pay was pathetic otherwise he'd have kept at it. "There's pants somewhere around here. Felicity usually does the laundry. At least I think she does," he said.
Without thought, he took one of the many notebooks scattered and started scribbling down an idea. Maybe his mistake had been trying to invent a story when there were so many right here. "Just be careful with Yvette," he said suddenly. He had a feeling nagging at him that he couldn't shake off. "She's a little sheltered," Liam knew what he was getting them into. It wasn't difficult to see where it would go. So if it all blew up in his face, he had no exit strategy. Maybe it would have been better to leave the strategy to Lucas and Liam could go back scribbling on napkins. But as he looked at the door, waiting for it to open, waiting for something new, he didn't want to go back. Instead, he announced to himself as well as to Lucas, "If they don't hurry up, I'm going back to the damn cafe and..." and what... throw Mary over his shoulder and drag her off? He almost laughed at the idea. "And drag them out of there. No one ruins my unscheduled day off,"