20. Emma
CHAPTER 20
EMMA
I breathe deeply, taking in the smell of sweat and sex and the faintest hint of ocean salt. I bury myself a little deeper into Liam’s chest, pressing my face against him. His hand traces up and down over my shoulder, his fingertips sliding over my skin in a way that seems to leave a trail of sparks behind him.
All of a sudden, I realize that I don’t want to let go of what’s right here beside me. For once, I think I might have found something worth holding on to.
I’ve felt this kind of passion before, this deep want inside my chest, but it hasn’t been so strong in years. In fact, I don’t think it’s ever been this real.
“Does this have to end?” I whisper.
“When is your flight?”
“In the morning. Early in the morning. Probably only in a few hours now.”
“Oh,” he says, his breath hot on my skin. “Right.”
“When’s your flight?”
“Later. I don’t know. I don’t even remember if I booked it yet.”
“You didn’t? That doesn’t seem like you.”
He hums quietly under his breath, as if he’s thinking How do you know anything about what I’m like?
But he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he wraps his arms tightly around me, squeezing me to him, like he’s trying to figure out a way to never let go.
“Let’s meet again,” he says eventually, just as I feel I might be falling asleep again.
“What?” I breathe. “You and me again? How?”
“We live in the same city, don’t we?” he says. “We’ve had a great time together, haven’t we?”
“Yes, and yes,” I say. “I would really like that.”
“Good,” he says. “Because…” His breath catches in his throat like he doesn’t quite know what he’s trying to say. “I would like that too,” he manages to get out. “I’ve had more fun with you this week than I’ve had in a really, really long time.”
“Me too,” I say. “I don’t remember the last time I had time off. I didn’t expect to actually enjoy it.”
He hums again, and I feel his voice grumble inside his chest. “I’m not saying we should be anything serious,” he says, “but…”
“But?”
“Well, it’s not that I don’t like you. Because I do.” This is the most I’ve ever seen him floundering, and it’s almost cute to see. “I just am not looking for a real, intense relationship, and I want you to know that now, okay?”
I don’t want to say to him that I am because I don’t want to scare him off, but I also don’t want him to feel any pressure. “Let’s just see where it goes,” I say. “We’ll only know if we try.”
He nods slowly, contemplating my words, mulling them over.
Neither of us can quite think of anything to say after that, so we just sit in the bliss of hormones and warmth that we’ve created.
Outside, the trees murmur in the wind like they’re trying to whisper something. Like they know something I don’t know. Obviously, the trees aren’t telling me anything at all, but as I lie here in the stillness, in the quiet, pressed against Liam’s chest, I can’t help but wonder if this could be something more than it seems to be.
Could this be what I wanted? To have someone who makes me feel this sort of passion, someone who doesn’t want to let go?
It almost seems too perfect. Here is this guy who isn’t afraid to butt heads with me, who seems to agree with all of my core values. Who seems to work just as much as I do. Maybe this time it could be different. Maybe this time Liam could be the kind of person who understands why I work so much.
For the first time in my life, maybe work won’t ruin any chance I have a relationship after all.
“What time is it now?” I ask.
“Don’t know,” he mumbles. He twists his arm to grab his watch, which is sitting on the bedside table and stares at it. “What time do you have to leave?”
“My flight leaves at seven. The airport isn’t too far away, but I want to get there with plenty of time to spare.”
“It’s just past midnight,” he says softly. “So we have a little time yet.”
I take a deep breath, taking in his musk, not wanting to forget it. “A little time for what?”
He rolls over and leaves me shivering as I lose his warmth against me. But he doesn’t move far. He gets up onto his hands and knees and looms over me, dipping forward so I can feel his breath against my skin. “A little more time for this.”
With that, he presses a kiss into my shoulder and starts making his way down my body, tracing a line of kisses like he’s following a treasure map. He definitely acts like he’s found gold when he reaches my hot core, because the things he does with his tongue are like magic.
I cry out and my hips buck, pleasure overtaking my body, making me writhe and moan under every touch. A couple of times, I manage to crack my eyes open to look at him, and the sight of him there between my legs almost feels as good as the way he is moving his fingers.
But not quite.
When I’m wrung out and exhausted again and dizzy on pleasure, he crawls back up to take me into his arms. We kiss and the taste of my wetness covers his lips, and his hardness presses against my leg. “Don’t you want to take me?” I ask breathily.
“Of course I do,” he murmurs. “But if you’re too tired, I can wait.”
“I’m not too tired,” I say, kissing him again, looping my leg over his.
Still facing each other, embracing, he slips inside and we move together, our hips in rhythm, our breaths falling in tandem. It’s a slow and intimate thing, not like the passionate, loud lovemaking from before.
This is so real I could call it true love.
Is that crazy? To love a guy I’ve known for a week?
But he’s everything I wanted the man of my dreams to be. He isn’t perfect, but when he puts his mind to it, he’s thoughtful and kind. He works hard. He’s wickedly funny. He seems like he would be loyal and faithful.
What more could I want?
The next thing I know, he’s shaking me gently awake.
“Emma? Emma, wake up.”
“Wha…?”
“It’s three thirty. You should think about getting up.”
“I have to leave?”
In my half-asleep, postcoital state, that seems like the worst thing in the world. Having to leave these warm, strong arms, this bed. Returning to reality. For the first time in my whole life, I don’t want to go back to work.
Liam sits up and I whine, not wanting him to go. The groan he lets out tells me he feels exactly the same. “Here,” he says, handing me his phone. “Give me your number.”
I obey, typing the digits in and adding my name. Then I text myself, my own phone dinging in the corner proof of it. This way I have his number too, so even if he flakes out on me, I can still reach him.
If he was being serious, though, he will reach out. If this meant anything to him, he’ll go through with seeing me again.
If he feels even a fraction of what I’m feeling right now, there’s no way he’ll forget me.
Slowly, I peel myself out of bed and pull my clothes on. I’m not fully packed, but fortunately I made a head start yesterday, so it shouldn’t be too tough to shove everything else in my bag.
The hard part is going to be saying goodbye.
When I’ve brushed my teeth and packed up, I knock on Liam’s door. He’s looking tidier too, like he’s showered and pulled himself together. It’s like our night together has vanished, the only proof of it ever existing in our minds and hearts.
“Well,” I say hesitantly. “My taxi will be here soon.”
“I hope you have a good flight.”
“You’ll text me, won’t you?”
His face softens into a smile. “Of course I will. What, you want me to say Meet me at the Empire State Building if this really means anything to you ?”
“I didn’t take you for a movie buff.” I grin.
He shrugs. “I’m not much of one, but my college roommate was, and his girlfriend was worse. They both made me watch so many movies.”
I can’t think of anything else to say to that, so I don’t.
“I know this great little diner in town,” he says. “Let’s meet there next week. Let’s make it a date.”
“A date?” I say with a smirk.
“Unless you don’t want it to be.”
“I do,” I say, leaning in to wrap my arms around him. “Thank you. For everything.”
He leans down to press a kiss onto my lips. “No, thank you.”
That kiss stays with me all the way home, a ghost on my lips reminding me of the future I’m about to step into.