Melting for You

Chapter Thirteen

April

Ellis

I am adult enough to admit I’m acting crazy. My hormones are changing so fast that even Liam is having trouble keeping up. One moment I feel like I did after the scan: like an earthquake is rumbling from somewhere in my soul. Then moments later I’m on cloud nine, excited to be on this journey. One big moment of anger was when he admitted the guys know about the baby. I hit the roof. I asked for one thing, for some time to come to terms with anything and he couldn’t give me that. If he can’t follow that simple boundary I can’t imagine how co-parenting is going to work. Obviously he apologised, and his teammates promised to keep it a secret, but it still hurt regardless.

I’m also craving crumpets. I haven’t eaten a crumpet since I left Reading at eighteen, but right now, the warm, buttery taste is all I can think about. I’m lucky that Liam will do anything in his power to make me comfortable, because shipping costs to get British crumpets over here is super expensive. He covered every penny.

I eat them by the packet-full. It feels like each time I blink my emotions switch. There’s an aching need to find some balance. Some stability in the hurricane of my mind. And that is why I have spent the better part of a week trying to convince Liam we should find out the baby’s sex.

To give him credit, Liam does have some good reasons why we shouldn’t, but I just really want to know. Every new polaroid I take to compare my bump growth makes me want to find out even more. There is a baby in there and I don’t know anything about them except their size. I have had Liam all but running between my flat, where he spends as much time as he can, his place where he sleeps, and the rink for training and games.

Though he offered me a key to his place, I’m rarely there. My flat is closer to Bloom and Blossom anyway, and I don’t like spending time at his without him. It just feels wrong to be in his space alone.

Instead, I ask him to come here, to this two-bedroom walk-up. I’ve taken Jack to Liam’s house a few times, wanting them to build some kind of relationship. The two of them aren’t exactly best of friends yet, but they are as good as they can be for now. Jack has surprised me. He isn’t used to having men around, but he doesn’t seem to mind the new addition to his life.

Another one of my most consistent hormone changes is how desperately horny I am. The second trimester has made Liam even more attractive, which I didn’t think was humanly possible. His hair just falls so naturally sexy and when his dark eyes look into my soul, my panties are soaked through instantly. There is no doubt that Liam is hot; he is kind and gentle and fills out a suit like a god.

Whoever penned the rule that NHL players should wear suits to and from games deserves a medal. Or some kind of sainthood at least. Before every game I get the visual treat of him dressed to the nines, and I revel in it every damn time.

But it’s truly a joke from the universe that I have one of the sexiest men in the NHL at my beck and call, and yet I can’t sleep with him. Since the day of the twelve-week scan, my libido has been making me flirt with him, even unconsciously. Scout’s honour that it isn’t my fault, just my libido moving me like a marionette. I’ve done all the things that used to work back in university: biting my lip, touching his thighs, batting my eyelashes and laughing at all of his jokes even when I don’t think they’re funny. And still I remain untouched. Liam is staying true to his word and the boundary we set. At the very least, it means I can trust that he keeps a promise. But sometimes I wish it could be broken, just for one more night.

There is also the very real possibility that he no longer finds me attractive now that I’m pregnant. My belly has popped and I’m finally looking like a pregnant lady, but what man isn’t attracted to growing boobs? I have some new stretch marks and sometimes I don’t have the energy to wash my hair so the blonde strands lay flat against my head, but Liam looks at me as though he wants me. There is a heat in his gaze and every time his fingers graze my skin electricity sparks between us. But he has never leaned in for a kiss, never lets his touch linger.

If sex isn’t on the cards, I was hoping to convince him to find out the gender as a distraction. But it’s been to no avail. Instead I have to listen to him give valid reasons on why we shouldn’t.

Every day, the sixteen-week scan grows closer, and the anticipation of knowing is eating me up. It would be so much easier if I could just tell him that if we can’t find out the gender, there is another need we could both satisfy. But I can’t be the one to break the agreement. Over the past four months I have come to the realisation that I am very demanding. I like things done a certain way and I don’t see why I should expect less than what I want. However, I am going to enter a co-parenting dynamic in the near future, so my way or the highway is no longer going to be the default. I had the great idea that I could loosen the reins and be chill about finding out the gender. Right until Liam told me he wanted it to be a surprise. Sentimental bastard.

I know I’m being selfish, about both the gender and the flirting. I think deep down the reason I want to sleep with him is because I need him to fuck me. Not want – need.

Is it possible to die from a lack of satisfaction? I think I will be the first documented case: killed from lack of sex. Maybe my libido will get so high that all the blood will go to between my thighs and away from my brain until I die. Dramatics aside, that is simply how turned on I am.

Take this for example: Liam is sitting in the armchair in my living room in grey sweatpants and a white T-shirt, the sluttiest outfit a man can wear, naturally. He is man spreading with his head resting against the back of the chair, his longer brown hair wet and stuck to his forehead. His face is angled up away from me but I know his eyes are closed and a small smile is gracing his face. He only came over to check on me and bump on his way back from the rink and all of a sudden he was taking everything off my plate by doing the chores I was putting off. He might be still trying to make up his indiscretion to me. To prove he is dependable.

It has been an hour since he got here and in that time he washed my dishes and cleaned my bathroom before jumping in the shower from working up a sweat. He was just a wall away from me in my shower, naked, and there was nothing I could do to stop my mind from imagining a million sordid things. Imagining him stroking his cock to the thought of me. Thinking about joining him and falling to my knees to get the taste of him I have been craving. Imagining him using my showerhead to get me off in record time because I already feel seconds from coming and he hasn’t even touched me.

Jack is at Lyndsey’s house because she wanted to give me the night off, so there isn’t even anyone here to create a buffer. There’s nothing for me to focus my energy on except for Liam and whether or not he has underwear on. He is here to make sure I am feeling okay. I know he wants to feel useful and deep down I am enjoying letting him wait on me. That’s why I haven’t asked him to leave even though we both know there isn’t anything left for him to do.

I angrily eat some more crumpets, which Liam made for me, like if I chew hard enough I can wipe the thoughts of him away. It feels silly to imagine him like this when just a few months ago it was a reality: us all over each other like no time had passed. Now I’m daydreaming as though I don’t know every inch of him.

It’s taking a lot of my willpower not to go sit on his lap. I don’t think he would push me off, judging by the way he looks at me, but that doesn’t mean I should test it. God I would love to feel his thighs underneath me, to feel if he is hard at the weight of me on top of him. I wonder if I sat at the right angle would he be able to feel how wet I am at the thought of him. Shit , I’m doing it again. I have to stop fantasising about us—

“Do you want it to be a boy or a girl?” Liam’s voice is a welcome reprieve from my runaway thoughts. I knew he wanted to talk more about what are lives are going to be like after this pregnancy, but I thought we would be talking about a schedule of when he will see the baby.

I casually shake my head and toss my hair behind me, as though I haven’t just been thinking about him naked. “I think it would be easier with a boy, but I would love Jack to have a little sister.”

“Why do you think raising a boy is easier?” he asks, cocking his head to look at me where I lie on the couch.

“Raising them won’t be easier. But I have a bunch of Jack’s old clothes they could wear, so that saves money. And I have a list of boy names I didn’t use before.” Another reason we should find out the gender sooner rather than later , I think to myself.

“Ellis, we can afford new baby clothes.” He laughs.

I wave my hand dismissively. “That’s not the point, reusing is good for the environment and stuff; but anyway, there are some clothes there that would be good for a girl too.”

He lets a silence linger before focusing on me intently. “What names have you thought about then?”

“Well, that depends.” I grimace slightly, familiar anxiety settling in my chest.

“On what?” he quizzes.

“Their surname.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

I pick at my nails, the stillness in the room enveloping me. I move to sit on the cushion closest to him, not wanting to make this conversation any more distant and awkward than it needs to be. This is Liam and I here. We shouldn’t be uncomfortable.

“Is it selfish if I want them to be baby Ruinsky?” He takes my hand, squeezing it as he speaks.

“No, not selfish just… I guess it’s the done thing,” I say softly. “We could hyphenate, but Ainsley-Ruinsky is a bit of a mouthful.”

I knew deep down he would want the baby to have his name. It was one of the first thoughts I had when I told him I was pregnant, but hearing it stings a little.

“Sunshine, if you want the baby to be an Ainsley that’s fine, it’s just…” He trails off, biting his lip.

“Just what?” I push.

“I guess it’s just that you and Jack are both Ainsley. It’s stupid really, but I guess if the baby is Ainsley too then I feel like I’m not a part of the family.” When his dark eyes meet mine they are glazed over. My heart drops into my stomach at the sight.

“Liam.” I wish I could be even closer to him, wish I could give him comfort, and he must agree because he pulls me even closer until I am sat on his lap.

“I know it’s stupid, this baby is my family. Hell, you and Jack are part of my family too, but I guess I feel a little left out.” He tightens his arms around my waist as his hand settles on my bump before he continues. “The baby will live with you and I know I am going to miss out on a lot because of hockey. I just feel like a background character in all this.”

“You will never just be a background character, do you hear me? You’re their dad, Liam. You always will be no matter what. Even when you annoy me you will still be their father, nothing will take that away.” Shock laces my words at his revelation; it never crossed my mind that he would feel less than. I’m still a little bit mad that he told his team and mad that he is so attractive it hurts, but I know he cares about this baby. My hands come up to cradle his jaw to offer him some comfort. Liam is the more rational out of the two of us and it never occurred to me how hard this must be for him. Again, I know that’s selfish, that I have spent so long thinking about all the things changing in my life that his life has barely crossed my mind.

I don’t know what else to say to make him feel better so I settle for putting a hand on his shoulder, hoping it will bring comfort. If we were dating I might have stroked my fingers through his hair but that isn’t my comfort to give. I have to remember that I’m the one who fought for co-parenting and nothing more.

“I have an idea,” Liam says, rubbing circles on my bump. It seems like it is as calming for him as it is for me.

“Oh, do you now?” I ask with a small laugh. Liam’s ideas are rarely plausible, but I will let him tell me anyway if it makes him feel better.

“Yep, and it’s a pretty flawless one in my opinion.” The look in his eyes has shifted from sadness to mischief.

“Hit me with it.”

“You and Jack change your surname to Ruinsky and boom: we can all have the same surname,” he says with a smirk. Oh, god . Of course, that is his idea.

I laugh at him gently. “If that’s your marriage proposal, it was pretty lacklustre.”

“If I asked you to marry me, would you say yes?” He quirks his eyebrows at me. A part of him must already know the answer, otherwise he wouldn’t put it out there.

“No,” I answer definitively. But damn, now I’m thinking about it. Liam is already a great dad based on how attentive and supportive he’s been; it’s a partner that I worry about. He will give the baby everything but will we butt heads constantly when it comes to how we are going to raise them. There is little I want more than to give my children a family like the ones I’ve seen on TV. Loved-up parents dancing in the kitchen, two kids and a dog causing mayhem, and I wish I could have that with Liam. But it’s not realistic. Men like him don’t have their happy endings with women like me.

He chuckles slightly. “Exactly then, I’m saving myself the heartbreak of your rejection.” I can hear that he is joking by the lilt in his voice, but in his eyes there is something else: pain. Fear. Hope. Maybe he feels it too? The crushing weight of hope that we could be so much more. But I’ve been overthinking so much recently, I’m probably overthinking his every action and word too.

I try to keep the mood light and nudge his shoulder. “Oh, you would be broken hearted?” My breathing is more strained as I can feel the heat from his body burning me.

“Being rejected by you, yeah of course I would.” His face is inches from mine and for a second his eyes drop to my lips.

There is no stopping me from leaning into him. His lips are pink and pillow soft, and the thought of them pressed against mine is too strong to ignore. I am a magnet being drawn to this man in every way. Our lips touch for a brief second before he pulls away.

No. No. No. No.

This can’t be happening. I thought he wanted me. What am I missing?

“El, stop.” I’m such a fool. Of course, he doesn’t want to kiss me. Embarrassment flushes my cheeks.

“What? I–I thought you wanted – shit, I’m so sorry, I just—”

“No, stop,” he says as I try to stand, but he holds me down, pulling my back against his chest. “Hey, stop just wait a second.” His words are warm against the side of my neck where he has pulled me closer, but I need to get away from him. From all of this.

“I’m such an idiot, I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.” My skin is red and heated from the obviously unrequited attraction.

“Ellis, listen to me.” His voice is strong and I know there is no running away from this one.

“I want to kiss you,” he says with a sense of passion. “I want to do a lot more than that, but not like this. Not just because your hormones are making you horny and I’m available for you. If I kiss you again one day, it’s going to be because you are mine and it means something. It will be because you want to be with me.”

“What?” I mutter. I can’t seem to find any other words, my head feels completely empty.

He continues, “I am attracted to you, I wouldn’t have done what we did in December had I not been. But I can’t kiss you or do anything else… It wouldn’t be fair on either of us.” He finishes talking before releasing me.

I scramble off his lap and back to the safety of the couch. Liam stands and steps towards me, leaning down to leave a small kiss on my forehead. I’m stunned into silence from the interaction until he says, “Tea?” forcing me to glance up and nod.

I watch him walk away into the kitchen and begin pottering with the cupboards. “Oh and Ellis,” he shouts from the other room, “I’ve been messing with you; I do want to find out the gender of the baby. I just wanted you to start asking for what you want. If you want something, I will do whatever I can to make it happen.”

He says nothing else after bringing me my tea. The atmosphere shifts entirely as he goes about his day, using my home as though it’s his while I am left reeling from his confession. He keeps throwing me for a loop. I think we understand each other and then he tells the team about the baby. I think there is a chance we could work together but there is always something holding one of us back.

Despite it being what I wanted, I don’t even enjoy the satisfaction of knowing we are going to find out the sex of the baby. Instead, my mind is hyper-focused on everything else he just dropped on me. Never for a second did I think anything more would come from this, but his confession changes things . If he kisses me , he said. He needed my confirmation on how I truly feel. But yet again, I struggled to show what I actually want.

In December I said one night and he agreed, didn’t he? He might have said he wanted more but I didn’t think he meant it. I thought he wanted the same as me. Relive our glory days for one night. But that isn’t true, I want to believe it is but I can’t hide from the truth, he did want more. Liam told me that he wanted more than one night, but I thought he was just trying to woo me. Trying to get me into his bed. It never crossed my mind that he might have meant what he said. Now that I know him better I can see he wasn’t just using his words to lure me in but I haven’t really thought about it. I had to convince myself that he was some playboy using sweet words to get a girl in his bed. It was the only way I could get myself to leave without feeling guilty. I have been in denial, pushing myself to believe the worst in him to soften the blow when I walked away.

But his admission makes me think seriously for the first time: could it ever work? Liam and I are very different from each other for a start. He’s still my ex – and do I want to get back with my ex? He also went behind my back and told the Spears about the baby. Then there is the fact that if we didn’t work out it would be impossible to recover from the heartbreak. The internal debate consumes me; the constant back and forth is like emotional tennis. And then you add hormones and health complications into the mix, and suddenly I don’t have a clue about anything.

But is it worth the risk? Knowing that I could lose him and still have to be in his life facing that heartbreak at every step. No. No it wouldn’t be fair. Not to him and not to my heart.

Anyway, it’s probably just my hormones talking for me. It has to be. I can’t fall in love with him again just for my heart to get broken again. I put the limit of a year on us back then because I knew I was going to fall in love with him. But I also knew I couldn’t hold him back from the draft. Instead, I set a boundary and stuck to it, even if it ripped me apart to watch him play on the other side of the country when all I wanted was for him to hold me in his arms. Now when I want to trust him he does the one thing I ask him not to. It just shows me further that I need to listen to my head. I can’t listen to my heart or the sexual tension I feel. I have to protect myself even if that means stewing in my denial a little bit longer.