23. EMERSON
23
EMERSON
Six Summers Ago
Callum and George bid us a goodnight, claiming they were tired and wanted to return to the hotel. Their fake yawns were theatrical at best.
It’s only Liam and me now. This is our first time alone since I woke up in his arms this morning.
“Are you tired too?” Liam asks me. “We can head back if you are.”
I’m exhausted, but I want this little bit of alone time together. It’s potentially the last I’ll get before we go our separate ways tomorrow, and I still have this itch to know more about Liam—all of him, really.
“No.” I yawn. “Would you care to take a walk, though? It’s nice out tonight.”
We’ve already finished our drinks as the place gets busier. The bar is body to body, and people are waiting in the wind to snag our table the minute we leave.
“Let’s go.”
His accent still throws me occasionally. I’m not enamored with it; okay, that’s a lie. I might be a teensy bit obsessed, but it’s when he uses words or phrases that I don’t know that it throws me. Or, like tonight, when he drinks, and it gets thicker and rougher, the sound of it is like morning stubble being brushed against my most sensitive skin.
I watch others around us, heading to dinner, drinks, or to get lost in the night. Everyone appears happy. We appear happy.
I am happy. I’m happy being here with Liam .
An emotion I’m slightly scared to admit to myself.
“If I haven’t told you already, I’m sorry.” Liam breaks the silence between us. “You look beautiful tonight.”
Liam hadn’t told me. I didn’t need him to say it to know he was thinking it. He’s looking at me the way he did earlier at the beach. I don’t think I was supposed to see him looking, but I caught the glances between conversations, behind his sunnies, and when I was walking along the shoreline. Each time a seed of feelings was planted in my stomach, I’d shake it away but then catch him watching me again, and that feeling would blossom again. By now, I probably have a whole garden in there.
Have you ever had someone look at you as if they can see right through you to exactly who you are at your core? I hadn’t till I met Liam. That’s how he looks at me.
With eyes on me, backlit by the moon and stars, I think that maybe I could love him.
A cluster of laughs and recklessness barrels at us from the small convenience store to the right, startling me from that obscured thought. A group of six children, not paying attention to where they are running, and their trajectory unintentionally aims straight toward me.
They are going to ram right into me.
Liam reaches out, pulling me to him before they have a chance to trample me. He growls curses at them to watch where they are going, but they ignore him and run along. Liam doesn’t let go of my waist once we are away from them down the street. He shifts his hand to the lower dip of my back, guiding us back toward the hotel.
“I had a great time today,” I tell him.
“Me too.” Liam leans his head toward me and smiles. His smile takes up the entirety of his face. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone smile so big or been this attracted to a smile before.
“You are a great friend to Callum and George. You know that? ”
“They are great to me too. The two of them are the brothers I never had. Cal is the sensible one, as you can probably tell. And George, he’s the pesky younger brother, always buggin’ you and up to no good. I didn’t have many friends like them till I got to uni. We’ve been through a lot together, and honestly—I don’t think I would be here without them.” His hand rubs my back in small little circles. “Tell me more about your friends and family. You didn’t speak about them earlier.”
“I always wanted a sibling—a big family. But my parents never wanted another child; thinking back, I see that it was for the best. They divorced when I was in middle school. Nat, the friend with whom I was on this trip, is basically my sister.”
“I remember you mentioning that this morning.”
“We went to college together—we didn’t even apply to different schools—and we’re moving to Chicago together at the end of the summer. Looking back on my life, it’s always been the two of us.”
“I think friends can be family. Sometimes, the best family we have is the one we find.”
“I agree. She’s kind of like George.” We laugh at the comparison, even though he doesn’t know her. “They are almost the same person. I swear they’d be two peas in a bed if they ever met.”
“I owe a lot of myself to her. She’s stayed around. A lot of who I am and what I do is for her. Losing Nat would be a heartbreak I don’t think I’d ever overcome.” I go on to tell him more stories about the two of us from growing up.
“What about your parents?” I ask him, over talking about myself.
“My mom passed away three years ago from a long battle with cancer.”
“Liam, I’m so sorry.” I squeeze his hand, which I interlocked with mine.
“It’s weird when she passed, I was sad, still am, and don’t think I won’t ever be when I think about her, but I was relieved that she wasn’t in pain any longer. The last two years were utterly brutal for her. She fought with everything in her, but it wasn’t enough. Knowing she is in heaven and has a healthy body again is the joy I find in the situation. I’ll see her again someday, I know.” He tugs a tight, worn smile. “My dad and I don’t speak much. He was angry that I didn’t return to football after being injured.”
“Is that what ended your career?” I ask him.
“No.” Liam shakes his head, his tone slightly cold. “I could have returned, but I didn’t want to. I loved the sport, but it became too much about my dad and getting to the professional level that I lost my love of it. As kids, coaches tell us to have fun, but I think people forget that at some point along the way. It wasn’t fun living with his pressure. I used the injury as my way out.”
“When did this happen?”
“I was starting my second year at university. At that point, several teams were bidding for me to join them.”
“I guess. . . I don’t get it. You were there. Practically, in the pros. Why not return?”
“Not my dream, States.” He sighs.
“What do you mean?”
“It was my dad’s dream for me to play professionally, not mine. I didn’t want to disappoint him, so I lied and used the injury. He demanded excellence growing up, pushing me constantly, and as a kid, I thought I had to do what he wanted. I let his dreams confiscate my own till university and when my mom passed.”
“What is your dream?”
“Travel. Hotels. Fun.”
I tip my head up toward him, creating a space for him to elaborate—if he wants. He’s given me the opportunity and safe space to speak freely. The least I can do is return the favor, but selfishly, I do it because I want to know more.
“I want Hayes Hotels to become a global hotel line. Luxury places to stay worldwide known for their community impact and incredible views, giving people an excuse not to stay home. ”
Liam continues telling me about Hayes Hotels. Without ever stepping foot into one, I feel as if I have. He talks about them and his dreams as if they are canvas and he is the painter, fluidly moving the brush, creating the most vivid picture. I can’t help my gaze as it focuses on him, mesmerized by his rhapsodic smile and the childlike excitement in his eyes.
“I have two in London and am working on a third.”
“That’s incredible. Where is the third?” I can barely ask through the memorization of him.
“Edinburgh.”
“Did you always want to do this?”
Liam chuckles. His cold tone is no longer present. It’s replaced with lightness and passion.
“Oh no. From age five to ten, I was properly convinced I wanted to be a tube operator.”
“A what?”
“The person who operates the underground train in London. I was fascinated with trains and thought the tube was awesome.”
“I can picture it.” I grin at him, trying to contain the laugh bubbling in me. “A striped denim cap on your head. Three-piece navy blue suit. Total Tom Hanks in Polar Express vibes. There is still time to change career paths,” I tease.
“Sounds riveting, but I might stick to this.” Liam pulls me closer to him. His mouth up against my ear, he says, “Unless that is. . . your type.”
“Hmm. . .” I turn so that my lips are to his ear. “I’ll pass. I think I like this Liam a lot.”
“Is that so?”
I shrug.
“When did you buy your first hotel—wait, how could you afford that? I don’t expect that to be cheap or something you casually fall into?”
“It’s not. My mom is how I came into the money. Her parents had left her and me a trust. The terms of my trust from my grandparents gave me access when I turned twenty-one. When my mom passed, all of her possessions and money became mine.”
“So you are rich?”
“I’spose. I’ve invested a lot of the money into my company.”
“But you’re twenty-four? You didn’t do anything dumb with the money?”
“Didn’t say that. I enjoy myself, but don’t overindulge.”
“That’s why you didn’t ask for me to pay.” He nods. “Did someone teach you or help you?”
“I studied business at school, but a business professor of mine invested in me—time, money, and wisdom. He helped me create a business plan and then lay the foundation. In the fall of my final year, he invested in the company after I found my first property—a hotel that had already opened and was searching for new ownership. Hotel Magenta reopened two months after I graduated.”
“He must be proud of his return on investment,” I say, but I don’t mean the money. I mean Liam. He’s driven and brilliant, and despite his presumptuous behavior, he’s humble about everything he’s achieved. He’s incredible.
We fall into a comfortable silence for the remainder of the walk back to the hotel.
Every so often, I pretend to miss a step, forcing his grip to become firmer, bringing me physically in balance but more emotionally unbalanced.
At the hotel, Liam walks me to my room.
Your room is below his. He has to pass your floor naturally. Don’t read into this, Emerson, I have to tell myself.
In the hallway, we are standing outside the door to my room. I turn to face him. Liam reaches up and tucks a strand of loose hair behind my ear. His fingers graze my cheek in the process. He leaves his hand tucked in my hair, his focus dropping to my lips. Again.
“You’re staring at them like you’re trying to decide whether you should kiss me,” I call him out.
Yes. Yes, you should kiss me. I try to tell him with my eyes .
He takes a deep breath.
His chest rises and falls.
“Tell me not to,” he breathes out, fluttering his eyes close.
“I can’t do that.”
He doesn’t move.
“It doesn’t need to be anything more than it needs to be,” I say with encouragement for the both of us. “It’s just a kiss. A way to satisfy our curiosity, nothing more.”
Except I know that it’ll mean more, and I’ll want more. A kiss won’t be enough.
“Emerson—” His eyes are pleading with me to put an end to this, but his body is telling me a different story. It’s a story I want to finish writing together and on the other side of the door.
Without thinking twice, I rise on my tiptoes and kiss him.
If he isn’t going to do it, I might as well. Pressing myself against him gently, letting my top lip linger between his for a few seconds.
“Now, are you going to kiss me, or should I go get Geor—”
I’m unable to finish my sentence. Liam’s lips fuse with mine.
He’s fiercely kissing me as his body moves closer. My body hits the door behind me with a thud. He brings his free hand to cup my other cheek, holding me to him. Liam trails his fingers up my sizzling skin and into my hair. He leverages my head, tilting it to bring my mouth closer to him and deepening our kiss. I release a soft moan into his mouth.
It’s good. A damn good kiss and no kiss should ever be this good.
My hands roam his back as I feel every curve and line of his muscles. They shudder under my touch.
There isn’t much space between our bodies, but I push on him, trying to bring him closer because I need him closer.
Liam stops kissing me and removes his lips from mine. One hand falls to my waist, the other from my hair to my face. He drags his thumb over my lips until it reaches my mouth’s center. “No one, and I mean no one else, gets to kiss these lips. They’re mine. I want you to be mine.” He says it as if it’s a question for me to answer.
Pulling his thumb down and catching my bottom lip, he stops when he reaches my chin, nodding in agreement.
The world around me goes quiet as Liam places both of his hands under my thighs. He picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist, putting us level. My hips ground into him as he sandwiches me against the wall. I thought the last kiss was good, but this kiss takes me to heaven. I’ve never gotten off from only a kiss before, but with his possession and precision, I might—not to forget the incredible hardening length that is supplying ample pressure to my core.
Our kiss breaks when the footsteps in the stairwell echo down the hall. I’m placed on the ground, watching in shock as Liam pulls away. Standing there, Liam’s eyes roam up and down my body, watching as my chest rises and falls in tune with my heavy pants as I try to find air that isn’t him.
His hands that were holding me are now firmly planted on the wall next to either side of my head. Liam extends his arms, putting distance between us. He, too, is panting.
The footsteps become muffled as they climb higher and further away from us. A quiet tension now looms between us. Unlike earlier, this silence is uncomfortable and feels weighted. I can see it in his eyes that he is contemplating what next.
Option one, we open the door and find out what else could be good—based on those kisses, I’m pretty confident it would be.
Option two, we pretend that this kiss didn’t happen and go back to being strangers to friends.
I’m not positive there is a correct next move, but I know which one I want. Like I already knew, this kiss isn’t enough.
I turn to face the door, scanning my door key.
“Do you want to come in?” I ask over my shoulder, glancing back to see that Liam already selected option two.