Chapter 42
No, no, no, no.
Please don’t tell me he just said what I think he said. My body tenses against him. This is my fault. I led him on. I put us in this situation. My heart begins to race and I can’t move. I can’t speak. I don’t even know what I’d say if I tried.
“I—fuck. I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”
Liam’s hands hold the outside of my arms as I lean up and he tries to make eye contact with me. But I can’t. I can’t look him in the eye, knowing one look from him is going to break my fucking heart.
“That was an inside thought that should have stayed there. I got caught up in the moment.” His explanation is hurried, and I sit up completely, bringing the blanket with me as I wrap it around my chest.
His hand grabs at his hair when he sits up, pulling through the dark brown strands.
I don’t want to hurt him. But this isn’t what this is. It can’t be. It can’t be love.
“Um, it’s okay,” I stutter, sounding so fucking stupid but I’m nearly paralyzed with guilt right now. “I just—I don’t know what to say, Liam,” I whisper.
The top sheet is up around his waist, but I still see his abdomen flex every time he moves. Which is a lot right now because this man can’t seem to sit still when he’s scrambling for words.
“Nothing. Say nothing. I shouldn’t have even said it. I-I wasn’t thinking straight and I take it back.”
I shouldn’t feel like I’ve just been gut punched by that statement. If anything, I’m the asshole here. I know that. But hearing him say he takes it back doesn’t exactly feel any better than hearing him say it to begin with.
“Oh.” My eyes dart to the door.
I have to leave. We can’t have this conversation right after sex, our brains aren’t working properly, and most importantly, I need time to process the last three fucking minutes and figure out what to do.
“I mean—” He pauses and sits up straighter. His eyes searching mine for understanding and hope. I see it so clearly. He’s begging me not to hurt him, and I just don’t know if I can live up to that expectation. “No.” His arms cross over his chest. “No, I don’t take it back.”
“Liam, I’m not ready for…that, for this to be anything more than what it is.” At least, I don’t know if I am. I didn’t picture myself spending time with someone again so soon, and I sure as hell didn’t think it would end up being Liam.
“I’m not asking for you to say it back. I’m not asking for you to feel it. But it’s how I feel.” He stands from the bed, completely naked before grabbing his boxers and shorts, throwing them on.
I feel my shoulders sink and my stomach drops at how genuine he’s being. I love spending time with him. I love talking to him. Kissing him. Texting him. Laughing with him. Having sex with him. But do I love him? I can’t answer that right this second.
“Um…” I feel so fucking stupid right now. I can’t put words together, or thoughts. I shouldn’t have been so careless with his very clear feelings for me. I see that now.
He shakes his head and hands me my clothes from the floor. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ll let you get dressed.” And he leaves his bedroom, closing his door behind him.
I’ve never rushed to the bathroom and gotten dressed so quickly in my life.
And to top it off, I’m back in his clothes because mine are still soaking wet from the ice plunge.
I smell like him. And I love it too much.
There are too many things about my time with Liam that I do love, now that I’m forcing myself to think about it.
Exiting his bedroom, Birdie greets me with a tiny meow, and I let her rub against my ankle before I walk out to the kitchen and see Liam leaning against the counter.
“I’m really sorry about that,” I say, jerking my thumb toward the bedroom as if that apology fixes things.
“Nothing to be sorry for, Dem.”
“I should go.” I reach for my clothes that he brought in from drying outside and grab my phone and keys from the counter.
Liam doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. He knows me well enough by now to know I need space. He follows me slowly to the door and then reaches his hand out in front of me to open it. But I pause.
“I noticed you always call me, Dem,” I say after I step out into the hallway.
He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, hair perfectly messy with just the right amount of stubble covering his jaw as he stares at me.
He gives me one steady nod. “I do.”
“Everyone else calls me Demi.”
His hand reaches up to the top of the door. Because of course he can touch it. His stomach flexes, and I feel a lump form in my throat when I watch him swallow, his Adam’s Apple bobbing.
“Everyone calls you Demi because it’s short for Demetria.
I like being the only one who calls you Dem because it’s short for Demi.
” He shrugs and there’s something so authentic and tender about this moment it makes my heart ache.
“You know I don’t like to be like everyone else.
” He smiles, but I hardly believe the curve of his lips means that he’s happy. “Have a good night,” he says.
“You too.”
I turn away just as his door is closing.
Back in my apartment, I throw myself on the bed. Not even bothering to shower or change my clothes. My head hits the pillow and I stare at the ceiling, watching my fan spin around and around.
I replay the last couple months in my head. None of it’s a blur with Liam. I remember every second of us. Every beautiful, fleeting moment that brought me so much more happiness than I ever even knew I was missing.
But the reality is, this was supposed to be casual. And maybe I missed my opportunity to make that clearer to him. I got lost in the conversations and the warmth. The security I felt and the ease of being with him. I craved so much about Liam’s entire presence that I was selfish with him.
My index fingers pick at the nail polish on my thumbs as I lie here.
I should’ve been more careful with him and his feelings.
Liam was so up front with me from the get-go, and I took that and ran with it because it made me feel safe and cared for.
I hate myself for how I let things get so far away from me.
I feel my eyes sting as I reach for my phone and call my mom.
She answers on the second ring, and my emotions take over immediately. Tears well in my eyes and a sob builds in my chest the moment she asks how I’m doing. I didn’t think at thirty-five I’d still be running to my mom for guy problems.
“Mija,” she says softly into the phone as I rub my eyes before finally filling her in on every detail of the last couple months.
There’s no lulls in our conversion. No moments where she’s trying to convince me one way or another on things—except she does mention many times how handsome Liam is, and I agree every single time.
“Well.” She sighs. And I can picture her right now.
Out on the front porch in her rocking chair, looking out at the Arizona mountains across the street from the house I grew up in.
“You know I will be the first one to tell you how special it is to love someone. I knew you seemed happier lately when we spoke, but I wanted to wait for you to tell me why. Or should I say, your father told me not to bother you with questions since you’re a grown woman. ”
I laugh at that and envision their conversion over my love life and the ups and downs it’s seen in the last year.
“I’m not telling you what to do, I know that’s not why you called me.
But I am going to say one thing, and I need you to listen.
” She clears her throat, and I know that means she wants me to really hear her.
“You deserve a calm love. I know you’ve been working on moving forward, trusting again—and, my love, I think you did it without knowing.
It happens like that sometimes. An ordinary dinner, a simple conversation, maybe in ways you wouldn’t have pictured.
Life won’t feel so hard, things will slow down. You’ll finally exhale.”
I swallow the lump in my throat at her words.
“I’m not saying you love this man or don’t love him, I’m simply saying that you’re free.”
My head nods up and down as she speaks, pivoting to comparing moving on to growing up. She does that sometimes. And I smile to myself at the way she so seamlessly flows through conversations and subject changes.
Is she right, though? Did something happen without me even realizing it? Did I somehow let Liam in? The hotshot quarterback who’s had his eyes on me for years. Would it be the worst thing in the world if I did love him? Could I?
“I just don’t know what to do. I need time to think.” I sigh.
“How is work?” she asks, switching gears, and I’m thankful for it. “Any word on that promotion?”
I should have led our conversation with that—but somehow that’s not the most pressing thing happening in my life at the moment.
“Yeah, actually. I think it’s a real possibility. My boss is great and really pushing for me, so we’ll see.”
My job is another thing to consider with all this Liam talk too. If I get this promotion, my home base can be anywhere. I’ll travel with a network for prime-time games—and my association with Liam would be minimal, if at all, professionally.
She asks about the holidays, and we end our call shortly after that, but not before I thank her. Not just for the talk tonight, but always.
When I lost Bri, I thought I lost the only person I’d ever really share my secrets with. But, it turns out, when you’re an adult your mom doesn’t have to only be your mom, she can be your friend too.