Chapter 6 Liam
Liam
She doesn’t know who I am.
She thinks I’m Cooper.
For once I don’t have to be Liam Murphy, the guy who beat the shit out of his teammate, whose girlfriend left him: the single dad with baggage. I don’t have to worry about whether she’s only interested in me because of who I am.
Tonight, I’m just a normal guy.
I shift my hold on her to thread my fingers through hers. “Is this okay?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she replies, dropping her gaze to our linked hands.
We weave through the crowd, and my thumb runs over the inside of her wrist with soft, gentle sweeps. It’s a small gesture, but it’s my way of ensuring she feels safe.
We brush past the boys as we search for a spot to sit, and they look as if they’re gearing up to leave. I give Jack a nod as we pass him.
“We’re out, mate, you good?” His eyes flick to my hand, joined with Anna’s.
I look at Ravi and Omar, each with an arm slung around a blonde woman. “Yeah, man, I’m grand. I’ll see you Monday,” I say.
I guide Anna to a corner booth, tucked away from the noise and gawkers. She slides in ahead of me and, yeah, I take the opportunity to appreciate her figure.
Incredible.
I follow her in, catching subtle notes of her perfume. Something vanilla and warm, and I bet she tastes just as good.
“Better?” I ask, now that we’re away from prying eyes.
She nods, taking in a deep breath, her breasts pushing out with the movement as her shoulders relax. My cock stirs in my trousers, and the sensation is almost foreign, it’s been so bloody long.
“Much. Thank you,” she replies.
I study her face in the dim lighting. She’s something else, that’s for sure. “Beautiful” doesn’t quite do her justice. Her eyes are hazel, like caramel shot through with gold and green flecks, with thick, dark lashes. And when they find mine, it’s game over.
Lust climbs me like ivy.
Sure, when I initially followed the lads here, I had no intention of seeking female company. But after meeting Anna? I can’t wait to get my mouth on her.
“Tell me something about yourself.”
She blinks. “What do you want to know?”
I wait a beat. “I want to know you.”
Color sneaks into her cheeks. “I’m a primary school teacher.”
My brows shoot up. “Yeah? Christ, you must have the patience of a saint.”
She smiles. “I love it. The children are great.”
I lean back into the seat, hooking an arm behind her. She doesn’t create distance; instead, she presses into me.
“I don’t doubt it. What class?” I ask.
“Year two.” She laughs and the sound almost has me changing shape inside. “They’re so cute.”
Her students are Finn’s age.
“What do you love about teaching?” I ask, genuinely curious.
She answers in a beat. “I’ve always loved kids.
Every child is different. You’ve got the shy ones who bloom when you help them find their confidence, the cheeky ones who keep you on your toes, the ones who struggle but work twice as hard as anyone else.
” She shrugs. “To be honest, I think I learn more from them than they learn from me sometimes. Kids are simple in the best way. They say what they feel and they mean what they say. No hidden agendas, no bullshit. It’s refreshing. ”
I can see the passion in her eyes and, Christ, it’s a turn-on.
“Plus, there’s this moment. When something finally clicks for a kid who’s been struggling, or when the quiet one finally speaks up in class…
it probably sounds cheesy, but it feels like what I do actually matters.
Like I’m helping shape these little humans who are going to go out and change the world. ”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t sound cheesy at all.”
“Anyway, I don’t mean to bore you.”
That’s new. Her confidence wavers, as if she’s insecure talking about herself, and it does something to me. I tilt my head. “Why on earth would you think that bores me?”
I could listen to her all bloody night.
She gives a small shrug. “Most people’s eyes glaze over when I talk about teaching. I know my ex’s did.”
Her ex sounds like a knob.
I might not understand what it’s like to help a classroom full of children, but the way she describes teaching is exactly how I’ve felt watching Finn grow up.
Like the first time he rode his bike without training wheels, wobbling down the street with the biggest grin on his face.
Or when he ran into the kitchen to show me his drawing of the two of us, a pair of stick figures holding hands.
Or the pride that swelled in my chest as he stood up at assembly to receive his first achievement award.
Those moments when you realize you’re watching someone become who they’re meant to be.
I might have only just met this woman, but what she’s shown me is real. And it’s been a long time since I’ve met someone like that.
“Don’t ever apologize for loving what you do,” I reply. “You have an honorable job. What you do is important. You should be proud of that.”
The corners of her mouth lift. “Thanks.”
Her eyes glance up through her lashes as she toys with the rim of her glass. I have to fight to keep my breathing even. Damn, I want this woman.
“And what about you?” she asks.
My gaze narrows slightly as I lean into her. “What about me?”
“You know I’m recently out of a relationship, about my job. You have to give me something.” She pushes her hair back over her shoulders and I track the movement, down the graceful line of her neck to the dip at the base of her throat.
“I’m Irish,” I deadpan.
She barks a laugh. “Obviously.” Her hand lands on my thigh and the contact burns through me. “You aren’t doing a great job of wooing me yet.”
A faint smile forms on my lips. “All right, I guess that’s fair. I moved here from Dublin three months ago.”
“Why the move? Work?”
I shrug. “Partly. That and my own relationship fell to shite.”
Her smile drops. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” There’s true sincerity in her voice.
“Don’t be.” I frown. “I’m not.”
She studies me for a while, her eyes falling to where her hand rests on my leg. Her lips part as if she’s just realized she’s been touching me for the last few minutes. I cover her hand with my own, skating my fingers up her forearm then down again.
Her breathing turns shallow but she doesn’t move. Cautiously, I run my fingers further up her bare arm toward her shoulder, watching as she breaks out in goose bumps.
“Tell me if this is okay,” I say, my voice rough.
When she doesn’t protest, I trail my fingers up further, resting at the nape of her neck. Her skin is so damn soft.
It feels like forever since I’ve wanted to touch a woman. I’ve had opportunities—plenty of them—but I never felt that spark of desire for anyone. Until now.
“It’s okay,” she whispers.
Her pulse races under my fingertip as I move my hand to tangle in her dark waves.
“What about this?”
She nods slightly. “That’s okay too.”
Her hold on me tightens as I move closer, waiting to see if she’ll break first. When her body shifts toward mine I brush my lips over hers, barely.
“Now?”
“Yeah,” she breathes.
When my mouth finally presses against hers, she responds instantly.
Her lips are warm and pliant against mine, and the second my tongue traces the seam of her mouth, she parts for me, moving her tongue against mine. I groan into her. I’m not sure if it’s due to those girly cocktails, but she tastes so damn sweet.
She releases her grip on me, both hands raking through my hair, pinning me in place. Fine by me, I’m not going anywhere.
I cup her face in my hands, angling for a deeper kiss, and now I’m bloody ravenous. My dick is so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t burst through my zipper.
She pulls away, her lips swollen and eyes wild.
“Do you want to come back to my place?”
I smirk. “Well, that wasn’t too hard.”
“Oh, piss off,” she says. “Do you want to do this or not?”
A slow smile spreads across my face. “Let’s get out of here.”