Chapter 26
Emma
“It could’ve been worse,” I said to Maya over the phone.
I was sprawled across the bed, my arm over my eyes as I talked to my cousin. Liam and I had gotten home twenty minutes ago after what felt like the longest flight back to Iowa ever, and he’d been in the shower ever since. He’d barely spoken to me since we left the venue, nicely brushing me off when I asked if he was all right, and it had my insides twisting.
He was obviously angry about everything that went down with Bridget after his performance, but he wouldn’t talk to me about it. It meant everything to me that he’d defended me so fiercely, but I didn’t like that he took the brunt of Bridget’s wrath and was now suffering in silence. I wanted to help, but he wasn’t letting me in so that I could.
“Sounds like it also could’ve gone better,” Maya offered.
I blew out a breath. “I’ve never seen him like that. He was so…protective of me.”
“He’s always been that way though,” Maya said.
I squinted at the ceiling. “What?”
“Ever since you two were kids, he’s been protective of you. Like a big brother.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Trust me, there was nothing big brother about him tonight.”
Especially when he pushed me against the wall and kissed me senseless.
His words about not believing that he waited twenty years to kiss me kept replaying in my head. They were simple words, but I kept spinning them over and over, trying to figure out what he meant. Did he mean that he was happy he finally tried it? Or did he mean that he liked it and wanted to keep kissing me? Or…
I sighed. There were too many possible meanings, and Liam wasn’t exactly being forthcoming with his feelings.
For all I knew, he was being the guy the tabloids made him out to be. A womanizer, kissing any girl that would kiss him back. Or maybe he was taking advantage of the fact that we were married.
I didn’t like that option very much, but the more I thought about it, the more I didn’t think Liam would do that.
Maybe in the end, he was just as confused as I was.
Maya hummed, breaking me out of my thoughts, and I knew it meant she was about to meddle.
“Why don’t you just talk to him about it?”
“Maya, the great meddler of relationships, wants me to talk to Liam? Not come up with some ridiculous plan to get him to admit his feelings for me?”
I could hear Maya’s eyes rolling through the phone. “What can I say? I’ve seen the light.”
An unattractive snort came out of me. The day Maya stops meddling will be the day the earth freezes over.
“What?” she snapped. “It’s true.”
“Ha. You not meddling? That’s a good one.”
“Ugh. Just talk to him, Em. You’re clearly both feeling something, and you need to get on the same page. You might be married, and it might be fake, but there’s still room for both of you to get hurt, and I know you don’t want that. Talk to him.”
The idea of admitting my feelings terrified me. I’d been hiding them for so long, I didn’t even know how to put them into words anymore. Those three simple ones didn’t seem like enough, and yet they were the only ones that came to mind.
I didn’t have the energy to argue or come up with excuses, so I said, “I’ll try.”
My stomach gave a lurch then, and the faint pulse of an incoming bad headache started in my temples.
“I should get some sleep,” I said, glancing at the clock. It was after midnight now.
“I mean it, Em. It’s time for you two to have a feelings talk.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go snuggle your husband.”
There was a smile in her voice as she replied, “Right, snuggle.” She paused before adding, “I’m waggling my eyebrows in case you couldn’t tell.”
I laughed. “Bye, Maya.”
“Toodles!”
The call dropped and then it was just me, my spinning thoughts, and the sound of the shower running in the adjoining bathroom.
I did consider—for a brief moment—doing what Maya said and trying to talk to Liam. But after everything that had happened tonight, I didn’t know if I could handle him saying he didn’t have feelings for me. I was pretty sure I was well past getting my hopes up.
The shower turned off, effectively coiling my nerves into knots. What should I do? Pretend to be asleep when he emerged smelling like an Old Spice ad? Or should I actually be an adult and ask to talk?
My decision was made for me when the door suddenly swung open, a wall of steamy air cascading around Liam’s enormous body—and the measly towel he had slung around his hips.
I wasn’t proud of the way I stared or the way I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
I’d seen him shirtless—plenty of times. We’d spent half our childhood at the pond at the Walker Farm after all. This was nothing new.
What was new was the tattoo I could finally see in its entirety, which wrapped up his upper arm and over his shoulder. It had sunflowers and music notes swirling in mesmerizing patterns. There was more to the design, but I was too far away to see it. What was new was the six pack that definitely wasn’t there when we were kids. I could neither confirm nor deny whether my mouth went dry as cotton at the sight of it.
“Sorry,” he said, stepping further into the bedroom, running a second towel through his hair. “I thought you’d be asleep by now.”
“It’s fine,” I managed to croak.
“I’ll just grab my clothes and get out of your way.” He tossed the hair towel into the hamper in the corner before crossing the room to the dresser and rummaging through the top drawer.
“You’re not in my way,” I muttered beneath my breath, but the smirk he threw over his shoulder told me he heard it.
Liam closed the drawer and opened the next one. “Have you seen my watch anywhere?”
I rolled off the bed and pretended to look around. “Nope, where did you have it last?”
I didn’t have the slightest idea where to look for his watch, but I tried to be helpful—not to mention distract myself—and dropped to my knees to look under the bed.
“Em, what are you doing?” Liam asked, amused.
“What does it look like I’m doing? Looking for your watch.”
“Why would it be under the bed?” he asked.
“Well, I don’t know,” I said, pushing to my feet before letting out a dramatic gasp when I turned to find Liam’s chest right there.
My hands slammed into his bare skin and muscle, and like the traitors they were, they glued themselves to his chest.
Don’t think about his soft skin or his rippling muscles, Em. Stay strong!
Liam smiled down at me. “You okay there?”
Listen, I tried to pry my hands from his chest, I really did, but the dang things wouldn’t budge.
“Um, yep,” I managed to get out. “All good here.”
His resulting smile told me he knew the effect he was having on me, and that I was one thousand percent the most awkward person ever.
I expected him to chuckle and pull away, resuming his search for his watch, but instead his feet stepped forward, brushing against mine. Our faces were only inches apart.
Was he going to kiss me again?
We hadn’t talked about what happened in the dressing room, so I wasn’t sure if that was a fluke or something he wanted to keep happening. My stomach made that weird lurch again, but I just chalked it up to nerves at being so close to Liam.
“Are you still angry at me for leaving, Em?”
The question caught me off guard. I’d been so consumed by our wedding and then moving in together and storm chasing that I hadn’t really had time to think much about it. I was angry, for a long time, even after he returned. It had just been so easy for him to leave and that had broken my heart.
But now…after everything, seeing how Bridget had treated him and how awful the tabloids could be, and especially after seeing him come to my defense repeatedly, I couldn’t find it in me to be angry anymore.
“No,” I said softly. “I’m not mad at you. I’m sad that we lost two years of friendship, and wish that it could’ve been different, but I understand.”
His forehead pressed against mine, and for a moment I let myself breathe in his scent, let it calm the swirling of my stomach.
“I really am sorry. I wish it could’ve been different too.”
We stood like that for a long moment, saying nothing else until I finally dared to whisper, “What does your tattoo mean?” Through the dim light of the bedroom, I could just barely make out all the details I had missed earlier. The way the sunflowers swirled and wrapped around his bicep, up over his shoulder, intertwining with music notes, and…were those mini cows hidden in there too?
His fingers gently traced a line across my cheek before tucking a stray hair behind my ear, and the smile that pulled at his mouth set my heart racing.
“It’s a story of us,” he replied, and my stomach flopped onto the floor.
I must have had a confused look on my face because Liam laughed quietly. “The sunflowers—your favorite flower—wrapped in with the music. I worked with a tattoo artist in Cali to design it. I wanted something that reminded me of home, and all I could think of was you.”
My fingers traced over the lines of the tattoo. I reminded him of home? To the point he permanently put it on his body?
“I figured it would be a little creepy to tattoo your face on my arm, so I settled for pieces of each of us instead.”
I snorted at the thought of my face inked on his arm.
“Of course, I couldn’t forget the cows.” His eyes shimmered as he pointed to what indeed were mini cows hidden in the swirls. “Too many memories of cow tipping with you to forget that part.”
Liam stepped even closer. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t get my tongue to work.
“Listen,” he said, forcing my attention back to his face. “I know tonight was kind of weird, but I’m really glad you were there with me.”
I swallowed, words utterly fleeing from my mouth.
He leaned closer, and I was certain he was about to kiss me. Mere centimeters separated our lips.
Then my stomach made an unholy gurgling noise and Liam froze before laughing quietly.
“I’ll let you get some sleep, Em. I’m sure you’re tired after all the excitement tonight.” He winked and heat crept over my cheeks.
“Oh, sure. Yeah, I should sleep.”
Then he did the last thing I expected—he pressed a kiss to my forehead. It was so sweet, so tender, that I sank into it, relishing Liam’s affection that I never imagined I’d be able to have.
For a moment, we lingered like that, neither of us willing to move—or at least I wasn’t. But then he pulled back, his brows lowering over his eyes. Then he held the back of his hand to my forehead.
“You’re really warm. Are you feeling okay?”
“What? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”
I struggled to give a reassuring smile as my stomach gurgled again.
Liam smiled at the sound, but the concern didn’t leave his eyes.
“All right. Get some rest, Em.”
And then he grabbed his clothes and left the bedroom, taking my heart with him.