Chapter 23
Liam’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink as he smiles proudly over his summer moment that was somehow deemed newsworthy, ending up on a few sites.
I’ll admit I watched the video a couple of times. For the throw. Not for the footage of him shirtless on a boat in the sun.
“I’ve got good ball placement with a moving target.” He runs a hand over his jaw, and I follow the movement, but shake my head out of it.
I refuse to let myself get caught up in the beautiful exterior. He is handsome. I let myself admit that—daily, it seems. But I can’t let that distract me.
“It would appear you do.”
He smiles at me. Again. And it cuts me deeper every single time. It’d be easier to stay annoyed with him if he wasn’t also one of the nicest humans on the planet.
His smiles are genuine. They’re intentional. He doesn’t half-ass them. He’s all in when he’s showing you his joy, and it pulls me in a little more every time.
“So, you’re happy living here, though? That’s great.” He circles back to our original topic.
“I am. I actually really like it.”
“Actually?” He laughs. “Did you expect to hate it?”
“I just didn’t know what to expect, honestly. Moving in here included a lot of…” I inhale a deep breath and hold it in for a few seconds before finishing. “Firsts,” I finally say.
Pulling my legs into a crisscross position, I lean back on my palms.
Liam’s outstretched leg is almost touching my knee. He takes up so much space and rather than it feeling invading, it feels secure. It makes me feel secure.
“What kind of firsts?” he asks.
I find myself staring at his legs. He’s more muscular than I ever thought. In all fairness, I don’t see many of the athletes I work with in shorts. But his thighs are thick and defined.
“Only if you want to,” he assures me.
“It’s fine,” I say. “I’ve never lived alone.” Embarrassment wants to creep down my spine. Thirty-five and never lived alone, is that normal? But the way Liam’s looking at me makes me think—hope, almost—that I’d be able to say anything and he’d never judge me.
It’s a major contrast to how I began feeling in my marriage. My feelings felt like a burden. My wants felt unimportant. I questioned myself way more often as time went on and somehow began to feel inadequate with Brandon. Like I was no longer enough for him.
“It’s a big step,” Liam says as he looks to face me.
“I went from my parents, to college, then with Brandon, and then Alyssa for a little while…and I never truly got to choose where I wanted to be. I went to college where I was accepted—I mean, yes, it was one of my choice schools, but then afterward, I moved here because Brandon was drafted and then…well, you know the last bit.”
A look of guilt washes over his face as he shakes his head.
“And you didn’t exactly get to pick this apartment either. I’m sorry,” he says, his voice nearly a whisper.
“Just because you suggested the place doesn’t mean I didn’t choose to rent it. I love this apartment. I really love it.”
“I’m glad. It’s nice having you close by. Even if I’m certain you’re avoiding me half the time.”
His hand playfully reaches for my arm and the tips of his fingers gently make contact, sending goose bumps through my body, and instead of pulling away or even rolling my eyes, I softly smile.
The least I can do is be kind to him. Liam’s always kind to me. He’s always thinking of me and always willing to help.
“Choosing where to live and doing it on my own were big steps for me personally. I’ve spent the last nine months as a single woman for the first time in my adult life, and you know what?”
“Hmm?”
“I love it.”
“Good. You deserve to live life on your terms. You should be happy.” He smiles.
Liam’s feelings for me aside, I can feel—genuinely feel—he means that. And I hate that he’s making me second guess everything I thought I knew.
I’m flustered at how attractive he is. And not only physically—because, wow, yes. But everything. Lately, everything.
There’s a burst of sunlight peeking through two of the buildings that were previously blocking it from my line of sight, and I squint one of my eyes to adjust.
“We can switch spots.”
I shake my head. “Oh no, that’s okay. I’m fine. It’ll pass.”
But Liam’s already up and standing beside me as I peer up at him.
Black shorts, a white T-shirt, and a backward hat. I’m fully aware of the position I’m in and how many, many, women would kill for this view.
I feel myself swallow hard as I stare up at him.
“Dem?” He says my name, stirring me out of my daze. And I don’t miss the way he smirks when he takes a step back.
“Oh, please,” I mumble.
“No, no, by all means continue staring at me like that.”
“I wasn’t staring at you,” I lie to save face, but I’m certain he sees right through me.
“Okay,” he says, nodding at me sarcastically as he gives me a thumbs-up, and it makes me want to shove his thumbs-up into his eyes.
His really pretty, sparkly hazel eyes.
“Scoot over.” He bends down, motioning his hand toward the shadier part and he sits where the sun is literally cooking his face.
“Liam,” I urge. “You’re directly in the sun—”
“Dem, I’m fine. It’ll go down soon and I’ll do just about anything to keep this conversation going.”
My eyes glance his way, and I’m suddenly wondering how it might feel to lean closer to him. To be closer to him. With the way his eyes are scanning my body, I’m curious if he’s also thinking the same thing.
But anything more than what we’re already doing would be reckless on my part and quite honestly, unfair to him. Except my body’s reacting to him in ways I hadn’t expected and most certainly can’t handle right now.
His gaze is shamelessly rotating between my eyes and my mouth, and I can’t say that I’m bothered by it.
I’ve never been in this intimate of a setting with Liam, even though we’re literally just on the damn roof having a conversation.
It’s quiet. It’s secluded. It’s just us, and it’s calm.
It’s like the second I stepped out here my nervous system could feel the relief.
“Should we keep talking, or are you really into this staring contest? Just a hunch, though, but I’d probably win,” he quips, shifting his weight more to one side.
“Well, you’ve had a lot more practice than I have.” I say the response without thinking it through, and he starts to laugh at my admission.
“I knew you were staring,” he whispers.
“That’s…not what I meant.”
Electricity feels like it bolts through me as he plants his hand on the blanket next to mine, our pinkies grazing.
I’ve shaken his hand before. Hugged him even. But this? I feel pathetic and hopeless knowing how this small touch makes me feel.
“I like talking to you.” He stills.
And I like this side of Liam.
“Me too,” I let myself admit.
My phone chirps as it’s beside me and it’s just another notification from those stupid dating apps. Note to self: turn off the notifications.
“You can take that if you need to,” he says, looking away from my phone.
“No, it’s okay.”
The noise starts to pick up from the street, and I watch as Liam stands. The flutter in my stomach comes unexpectedly as he extends his hand to help me up as well.
“It’ll be a nice sunset tonight,” he says on an exhale.
The sky is already starting to change color, adding more pink and purple into its display. I cross my arms over my chest and look around at the city below us. It’s not that busy, nothing compared to somewhere like New York City, but it’s still enough to make me retreat a few steps back.
“You okay?” he asks, turning to me.
“Yeah,” I reply, his eyes locked on me, and I smile. “Sometimes I look into a crowd of people and think I’ll see Brandon. I don’t know why.” I shrug, keeping my arms over my chest.
“Are you afraid to see him or something?”
“No, definitely not afraid. Just more like I could do the rest of my life without having to.”
I’ve never said that out loud. I’ve barely formed the words together in my head before, but here I am spilling it to Liam.
I can feel the warmth of his body closing in on me and instead of forcing it away, I’m staying put, welcoming the comfort of a friend.
“Baggage for baggage?” Liam smiles down at me and I nod.
The phrase seems to have become our own little way of saying, you show me yours, I’ll show you mine. I tip my chin as an invitation to go ahead.
“I love playing football. I love the fans, this city, the adrenaline that comes with a two-minute drill, game on the line,” he says in a quiet voice. “But sometimes my dad makes me hate it.”
Something cracks in my chest at his confession. Because you’d never, ever know how strained their relationship is. You’d never guess Liam harbors so much internally.
He goes quiet for a moment, and I don’t say anything either as he turns and we both face the sky.
I don’t have anyone who I share things with like this. And I get the impression maybe Liam doesn’t either.
He slowly tilts his head back, and I notice him shift his weight on his feet.
I can only imagine the kind of beating his body takes every week.
I’m someone who gets aches and pains if I sleep wrong, how these guys get hit over and over and still walk straight is forever a mystery to me.
I press my fingers into my hip, thankful that somehow it’s feeling so much better.
Stretching really is helpful, who would’ve thought?
“You okay?” I lightly nudge my shoulder into him.
“Always.” His head snaps toward me and he grins.
I want to believe him when he says it. That he’s always okay. But I saw him the other day on the balcony—in a moment that felt too personal for my eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek, but can’t hold back my words.
“Well, if you’re ever not okay, you know, on the off chance, of course”—I tilt my head in his direction with a narrowed gaze—“you can talk to me.” I shrug, my thumbs circling one another.
Our eyes connect and he simply nods, a quiet agreement—one I hope he knows I mean.