23
The hotel key card beeps twice before West gets it to work, and I try not to read anything into the fact that his hands seem slightly unsteady.
“Sorry,” he says, pushing the door open and holding it for me. “These things never work on the first try.”
“No problem.”
I step into the room, and my heart does something complicated.
Two beds. Just like we booked. Just like we planned.
So why does seeing them side by side make my chest feel tight?
“Nice room,” I say, because I need to say something.
“Yeah. Good view.”
I walk over to the window and look out at the ocean, dark now except for the moonlight reflecting off the waves. During the day, this would probably be stunning. Right now, it just looks vast and mysterious and slightly overwhelming.
Kind of like everything else about this weekend.
“I’m going to change,” I announce, grabbing my overnight bag.
“Yeah. Me too.”
In the bathroom, I stare at myself in the mirror while I wash off my makeup.
My cheeks are flushed from the champagne, from the dancing, from the conversation that got interrupted. I can’t stop replaying it in my head.
This was never fake for me.
It just felt like the timing was never right.
I’ve dated girl after girl. None of them ever compared.
What am I supposed to do now?
What am I supposed to do with the way he looked at me when he said it, like he was confessing something that scared him?
What am I supposed to do with the fact that when he said it, I wanted to kiss him so badly I had to physically step back?
I change into my silk shorts and a matching camisole pajama that I literally only packed to entice him.
I give myself a stern look in the mirror. I need to keep it together. He’s paying me. Don’t get this confused because he was also right, he lives states away, and my parents need me. I can’t date someone who doesn’t live nearby. This is getting too complicated already.
I brush my teeth and try to psych myself up for whatever awkward conversation we’re about to have about sleeping arrangements and boundaries and all the things we should have discussed before we ended up alone in a hotel room together.
When I open the bathroom door, West is sitting on the edge of the bed closest to the window, scrolling through his phone. He’s changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants, and his hair is messed up like he ran his hands through it.
He looks up when he hears the door, and his eyes do a quick scan of my pajamas before meeting mine.
He pauses. Just for a second. Just long enough for me to notice.
Shit, this is too sexy, isn’t it? Suddenly I’m self-conscious. Suddenly, it feels like I’m still playing a facade, putting on a show. The real Liv would not be wearing this right now. Would I wear this around my house for fun? No.
And he knows it. That look is written all over his face.
“All yours,” I say, nodding toward the bathroom.
“Thanks.”
He disappears into the bathroom, and I hear the water turn on. I settle onto the other bed and try to focus on checking my phone, but all I can think about is the way he looked at me just now.
Like he was trying very hard not to look.
Which somehow made it more obvious that he wanted to.
When he comes back out, his hair is damp and he smells like soap and toothpaste, and I have to actively stop myself from staring.
“That was a fun wedding,” he says, putting something in his bag.
“It was,” I agree.
He sits on the edge of the bed, facing me. His elbows are on his knees as he leans forward. He is built like a muscle machine, and it’s not fair.
“About earlier,” he begins, and I sit up to listen to him. I let my legs fall on the side of my bed as I sit on my hands and look at him. “I didn’t get to finish.”
“Harry was really excited you’re a pro player.”
West smiles. “Yeah, he was… I don’t know where I left off,” he says. “I don’t know if you want me to continue.”
“West,” I say, stopping him. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
He scratches his chin with a soft laugh. “I definitely want to do this, Liv.”
“Okay, then give me your speech.”
He shakes his head with that beautiful smile. “I don’t have a speech.”
“I think it went something like: I dated girl after girl, and none of them compared. You were dealing with your sick mom, and I had hockey. I was moving around. I didn’t want to complicate things, and––you were cut off there.”
He’s blushing, and I love it. I love seeing the effect I have on him.
“You remembered all of that, huh?”
I chuckle. “I’m not drunk, and of course, I would remember all of that. It was so sweet. Those were words I’ve always wanted to hear.”
His eyes dart to mine now, questioning.
“I don’t date, West. I’m sorry I kissed you at your sister’s wedding. I was drunk and so sad over my mom. It was reckless.”
He’s shaking his head vigorously. “No, don’t apologize for that kiss. I needed that to realize something, okay? I knew your life wasn’t going well, and I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you. But you don’t need to worry about hurting my feelings–”
“I thought I did hurt you. I thought that what I did wasn’t fair, and it took me a long time to come to terms with the idea that you and I were never going to be together. And for a very long time, it hurt. I wanted you so bad, and that kiss destroyed me.”
I’m rocking on my hands now, and he’s on his knees below me. I don’t know when that happened, but he’s rubbing my thighs.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
I suck in the tears I feel coming. I’ve always been good at holding it in. “You had hockey, West. It’s okay. Really. It’s not like we were even a thing. You moved away. You had to… to chase your dream.”
His hand glides up and down my thigh, and I realize how big this man truly is. His hand is large against my thigh. My entire body shivers.
“Liv,” he says as his eyes dart down my body. I think the pajamas are doing its magic, and I feel guilty that I’m even wearing it.
“West,” I almost laugh. “I came on this trip this time, wishing I would be good enough for you and––”
He grabs my waist and shakes his head. The pressure of his large hands on me makes me inhale.
“Liv, listen to me. You are good enough. Please stop saying that. Stop thinking that. Don’t think anything like that. It’s not true.”
“It is true,” I say, cupping his face. My fingers touch the stubble on his chin. “You have always been so cool, West. Hot. Athletic. A hockey player. Popular. And I don’t bring anything to the table.”
He puts a hand over my mouth this time, hovering over me. “I told you not to talk like that.” He releases his hand and digs his finger into my ribs. My body jolts, and I scream, falling back onto the bed. “Someone’s ticklish,” he says while doing it again.
I squirm under him, laughing and shouting at him to stop. Suddenly his hands are caging me in on the bed and he’s crawled over me.
“Liv,” he says.
“Yes?”
“What will it take for you to think you’re good enough for me?” he asks as he leans down. His face is an inch away from mine as he says, “May I?”
I nod and then his lips are on my cheek. His breathe is warm, and my entire body comes alive. He tickles me until he reaches my ear.
“You’re good enough for me, Liv,” he whispers.
He presses a kiss to my ear, and my hands grab his lower back.
“What is it going to take?” he asks, kissing my neck.
“For you to know.” He kisses my collarbone.
“That I’ve been crazy about you.” He kisses the opposite side of my collarbone.
Then the opposite side of my neck. He leans up to my ear and says, “For fucking years, Liv.” He kisses my cheek, and I can’t take it anymore.
I grab his face and look him in the eye. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious.”
Our lips smash together, and it’s years of pent up energy released in a single kiss. He presses my legs wider with his hips, and when I feel the hardness of him, I inhale, pulling him closer.
We can’t stop kissing. His hands trail my body above my pajamas, and I know I’ll forever be in debt to these pajamas. I rub his back, feeling his back muscles under my palms. Our tongues dance for a few minutes, and then I need air before I pass out.
“I’m seeing stars,” I say, sitting up on my elbows.
He sits up quickly, breathless. “Are you okay?”
I nod as he stands up and grabs me a bottle of water.
“Thanks,” I say taking it. I drink a sip and offer him some.
He sits next to me and takes a sip. “That was intense.”
“Yeah,” I agree after a moment.
We both stare out of the sliding glass door at the night.