16. Piper
SIXTEEN
PIPER
Me
Hello! Are you busy tonight?
Liam
Depends who’s asking.
Me
I am! Does that change how you’re going to answer?
Liam
Possibly. If it involves other people, I have plans.
Me
And if it doesn’t involve other people?
Liam
I’m listening.
Me
I figured we should get to know each other before your sister’s wedding, and I was going to invite you over.
It’s not like a date or anything!
It’s two friends casually talking about things you like and things you don’t like.
Liam
You’re doodling my name in a journal, aren’t you?
Me
Guilty.
Do you drink coffee? What’s your favorite food? Which is better, breakfast or dinner?
Liam
Yes. Meatball sub. Breakfast.
Me
Great! Now I know everything about you! Should be easy to convince people we’re in a relationship when I have no clue how to take your coffee.
With eight sugars and extra pumps of vanilla, probably.
Liam
Black.
Me
Darn. So close.
Liam
Point taken. Send me your address. I’ll come by after weight training.
Me
Could we maybe add in another lesson? One that doesn’t involve ice skating but you on your knees?
Liam
One orgasm and you’re learning to speak your mind?
Glad my fingers can give you some confidence.
Me
I’m going to hide now.
See you later!
GIRLS JUST WANT TO HAVE FUN(DAMENTAL) RIGHTS AND GOOD SEX
Maven
Dinner tonight? June is at a friend’s house and Dallas is out of town for an away game. I’m bored.
Emmy
I’m in Pittsburgh with a bowl of room service pasta.
Lexi
I’m sorry to hear that.
Emmy
You don’t like Pittsburgh?
Lexi
I don’t like room service pasta. I’ll spare you the details.
Emmy
Lovely
Me
I’m busy tonight. Sorry!
Lexi
Okay, casually dropping that on us? What are you busy with?!
Maven
Or WHO are you busy with?
Me
32.
Emmy
That’s either Liam’s number or thirty-two men.
Lexi
I kind of hope it’s thirty-two men. Talk about a plot twist.
Me
Sorry to disappoint, ladies. Just the one man.
Lexi
And is he disappointing you?
Me
… no comment
But the answer is not no.
Lexi
Damn. Goalie Daddy can get it.
Liam, I’ve learn, is always early.
I look out the peephole and find him outside my apartment at seven on the dot, standing in the hallway with his hands shoved in the pockets of his sweatpants like he’s been waiting for an hour.
“Hi,” I say when I open the door. I look him up and down and frown at his wet and wavy hair. A rogue lock curls on his forehead, and I want to brush it away. “Aren’t you cold?”
“I’m almost two hundred pounds. If I had a coat on, I’d be sweating.”
“I apologize for the temperature you’re about to experience. You’re going to think it’s a sauna.” I step back so he can slip inside. “You can put your shoes wherever.”
“Jesus, Mitchell. It’s like a fucking terrarium in here. Are you a lizard?” He scowls, hands drifting to the quarter zip he’s wearing. He yanks at the hem, pulling the cotton over his head, then tosses it on the floor. “I’m going to melt.”
“Open a window and stick out your head. You’ll be fine.” I grin when he scowls again. “How was the weight room?”
“Hell. Much like the temperature in this apartment.”
“And how is your ass from our fall on Wednesday?”
“Bruised beyond fucking belief. Playing last night was painful. How about your knee?”
“Fine. My ego is more damaged. Lexi caught the whole thing on camera, and it’s humiliating.” I shut the door behind him and turn the deadbolt. “Did you eat dinner?”
“I grabbed a sandwich on my way over. I can’t go too long after a workout without putting fuel in my body.”
“Want a tour?”
“Sure. If we can make a pitstop in Antarctica along the way, I’d be fucking grateful.”
I nudge him with my elbow and lead him down the hall to the living room. “This is where I spend most of my time. I don’t have a home office, so I do a lot of my work on the couch.”
“It’s bright, which comes as no surprise based on your wardrobe.” Liam peers at the bookshelf in the corner and the potted plant with leaves that crawl down two shelves. He touches the stack of coasters I bought on a solo trip to Italy the second the divorce papers were signed, then glances at the pile of blankets on the ottoman. “Very you.”
This is the first time I’ve had a man in my apartment, and I wonder what it looks like through his eyes.
I moved in after my separation, using the money from our prenup to create a home that’s totally mine. To create a place that doesn’t hold any ghosts from the past.
There are fresh coats of paint—yellow, blue, fuchsia, and green—on the walls. New finishes on the cabinets and kitchen drawers. Backsplash in the shower and a funky lamp on my bedside table.
It’s my safe haven. A place full of all the love I missed out on for so many years, brought to life with photographs of me with my friends. Postcards that are displayed on the fridge from all my travel destinations. Tabs in my books that mark the scenes I hope to live out one day.
Like me, it’s a work in progress. Something that’s only getting better as time goes on, but it’s mine .
“My last place was modern. Monochromatic and full of sharp lines. It felt so sterile in there. I hated it,” I say.
Liam turns his attention to the bookshelf. “You like to read?”
“Yeah.” I smile and run my finger down one of the spines. “I love to escape in a good book. Gives me hope in the world, you know? It’s a shame you’re not part of the boys’ book club. I’d love to hear your opinions on dark romance.”
“I’m dyslexic.” His shoulders curl in as he says it, his tall frame nearly shrinking in half. “It takes me a while to read something, and I have a hard time imagining things creatively. I’d never survive in a book club.”
“I had no idea.”
“I like to think I hide it well.”
“What about audiobooks? You could try the content in a different form.”
“Does that count as reading? The guys would probably say I’m cheating.”
“They absolutely would not. Audiobooks are reading, Liam, and they’re a way to make stories accessible to everyone.”
“Oh. Maybe I’ll check one out then.”
“Is your dyslexia why you don’t like to talk to the media?” I sit on my couch and gesture for him to get comfortable wherever he wants. “You never do interviews.”
He picks the chair by the fireplace and perches on the edge of it. “I don’t like to talk to the media because I had a bad experience my rookie year in Minnesota.”
“What happened?”
“This dickbag journalist started going in on my family. He asked if my mom’s breast cancer showed any signs of coming back. Brought up my sister and her old party habits. Mentioned my dad and his job as a postal worker, as if it was beneath him. It’s like I was a punching bag. I’ve never trusted anyone with a microphone since.”
My heart almost shatters in two.
I knew there had to be a reason for his disdain.
Liam isn’t an asshole.
He’s blunt and closed off. Far from being a people person, but not malicious. Learning someone was purposely condescending to him in the name of journalism makes my blood boil. Makes me want to get the name of this jerk and make sure he never works in this league again.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Liam. I’m not excusing their behavior, because what they did was so shitty, but we’re not all like that. I’d never talk about something so invasive.”
“Doesn’t change that it happened.” A muscle in his jaw works, and I want to hug him. I want to tell him it’s okay. I want him to know that for as long as he’s with the team, I vow to never air out any of the personal details he wants to keep safe. “So, there you go. The reason why I’ll never stand in front of a microphone again.”
“Is your mom okay now?” I ask gently.
“Yeah. Been in remission six years.”
Relief floods through me like a dam. “I’m so glad to hear that, and I’m really sorry for bringing up something so personal.”
“Not your fault.” He lifts his chin, eyes meeting mine. “You said you wanted to spend tonight getting to know each other?”
“We don’t have to. I’m sure I can figure it out as we go and?—”
“It’s a good idea. Being around my family for four days is going be tough if I don’t know how I take your coffee. Let me guess: milk, six sugars, and some sort of hazelnut twist.”
“I don’t drink coffee. Caffeine can be an instigator for my migraines, so I stick to chamomile and hibiscus tea instead.”
“How often do you get migraines?”
“Depends. Sometimes I go two or three months without having one. Other times I get one once a week. There’s no rhyme or reason to it.”
“Do you take medicine for them?” Liam asks.
“Over the counter stuff. The prescription drugs are too expensive to take regularly even with my insurance. I try to do acupuncture and visit the chiropractor, but every appointment adds up.”
He rolls his lips together and stares at me, assessing me in a way that makes me feel on display. “I have a sensitive question to ask.”
I draw my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs. “Let’s hear it.”
“You have money, don’t you? Your ex is a millionaire.”
“How do you know he’s a millionaire?”
“Casual internet information anyone could find if they wanted to.” Liam pauses, and a stormy look clouds his dark eyes. “His nose is crooked.”
“It is crooked, isn’t it? He’s so self conscious about it.”
“Would be a shame if someone decked him in the face to even it out.”
I tip my head back and laugh. “Please save the physical violence for the ice. As for the money, our prenup was iron clad. I was young and na?ve and thought we would be together forever. I didn’t bother to push for more ways to protect myself if the marriage dissolved. I ended up with enough to afford a place of my own, pay off some debt, put away savings, and that’s about it. I can barely keep up with healthcare on my salary, but I refuse to ask him for more spousal support. He’d find a way to hang it over my head.”
Liam stands. He walks to the couch and sits next to me. His touch is soft on the curve of my elbow, fingers pressing gently into my skin, and I glance over at him. “Do me a favor, Mitchell. The next guy you fall for, make sure he’s not a tool with a punchable face.”
“I like that that’s the bare minimum for men now. You’ve got yourself a deal, Sullivan.” I smile at him. “Is Alana your only sibling?”
“Yeah. I wouldn’t have survived if there were two of her. She’s a firecracker. I think you’ll like her.”
“I can’t wait to meet her, even if it is under false pretenses.”
“What about you? Siblings? Pets?”
“Nope. I’m an only child. God, is this what people do on first dates? It’s so boring .”
He shrugs. “Don’t know. Haven’t been on a first date in years.”
“I never thought the bedroom might be the easy part. This is excruciating. Do you have pets?”
“I have a cat.”
“ What ? Where was he when I came over?”
“Hiding. He hates people. Takes after me with that.” Liam smiles and scratches at his beard. “His name is Pico de Gato, and I found him when I went on a school trip to Costa Rica. He wouldn’t stop following me around, so I flew back after the trip and brought him home with me. Only understands Spanish, but we make do.”
“Do you speak Spanish?”
“I’m fluent in it.”
“Wow. I’ve learned more about you in five minutes than I have the whole time I’ve been with the Stars.”
“I’m a boring person. I go to practice. I come home. I eat and sleep, and I repeat the cycle over and over again. There’s hardly anything worth knowing in there. Do you speak any other languages?”
“I know sign language. I have a cousin who is Deaf, so I learned ASL when I was younger.”
“Alana knows sign language too. You all can shit-talk without me knowing.”
Silence settles between us, and I sigh. I reach out and play with the fringed edge of the blanket draped over the couch.
“I’m not sure what other questions I have,” I admit. “There’s probably a website out there that has a list, but I’m afraid to look at it. It’s probably overwhelming.”
“You have my number. You can text me if you think of something you’re curious about.”
“I figure you care about what your family thinks about your personal life, which is why you agreed to this fake dating thing in the first place. Being comfortable and familiar with each other would make things easier.”
Liam hums, and I think I might have hit the nail on the head. “I’m not embarrassed that I’m single. It’s more that I’m sick of all the questions. When am I going to have kids? Why haven’t I settled down? Who am I dating?” It’s his turn to sigh, but it doesn’t sound like it holds any real frustration. “I’m twenty-nine. Hockey is the love of my life right now. It’s not always going to be that way, but I want to enjoy this for as long as I can.”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to live in the moment. You have plenty of time to figure out what you want down the road.”
“Appreciate the pep talk.” He reaches over and wraps his fingers around my ankle. His thumb strokes up my calf, and I blow out a breath. “Do you want to keep talking, Piper? Or do you want to do something else?”
“Something else,” I say, gathering the courage to tell him what I want and wondering how he’s going to react.
Liam’s eyes roam down my body, a hungry, greedy blaze behind his gaze. “Ready for another lesson?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“We’re going to stick with what we did last time. Sex, even if it’s only being used for pleasure, can be emotional, and I don’t want to do too much too soon. We’re going to ease into it to make sure you’re comfortable.”
“We can go slow,” I hear myself say, but I think I might be out of my body. Craving his mouth on my skin and dreaming about how he’ll make me come tonight. “Patience is a virtue, right?”
He tugs on my leg, hard enough to move me, and I suck in a ragged breath. My back presses against the seat of the couch as Liam runs his hand up my thigh and toys with the stitching of my lounge shorts.
“These are fucking distracting,” he murmurs, his voice a husky rasp.
“Then take them off. I’d hate for you to be off your game, teach.”