Chapter 12 Liam
Liam
Anna. My heart stops as recognition slams into me like a freight train.
Hazel eyes meet mine and her brows crease. “What are you doing here?”
Her dark hair is pulled back in a low bun, exposing the delicate column of her neck. The same neck I spent considerable time kissing, sucking, marking a month ago. Her face is bare of makeup and bloody perfect. Just as I remembered.
She looks smaller today than she did that night, and I drop my gaze—ah, flats.
She’d be five-four, five-five at most. Every delicious curve is on display.
A light pink blouse is tucked into tight high-waisted trousers, and I catch my breath, knowing exactly how good she looks underneath those clothes.
I rack my brain for something intelligent to say but lose myself entirely. She steps forward before I can form a word.
“You can’t be here right now, I’m expecting a parent.” She cranes her neck to look around me.
An entire month of searching, and she’s here. Right in front of me.
Then it clicks—oh, shite. I’ve been lusting after my son’s teacher this whole time?
I lift a hand. “Wait. You’re Miss Browne?”
Great, Liam. Well fucking done.
Her face crumples, then her eyes widen as the pieces fall into place.
“Oh no. No, no, no,” she chants, shaking her head and taking a step back.
I move toward her instinctively. “Anna, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you—”
“Your real name? Yeah, that probably would have been helpful,” she snaps.
I hold my hands up in surrender. “You need to understand—”
“You’re Finn’s dad? The football player everyone’s been talking about?”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Of course they’ve been bloody talking about me. This fuck-up is following me everywhere.
I try not to wince. “Look, Anna—”
“I can’t believe this,” she says, her voice stern.
I crouch down to pick up the pen that fell from her fingers, offering it to her. She yanks it from my hand and retreats behind her desk. Her eyes fix on the scattered papers in front of her before turning to the windows.
Looking anywhere but at me, apparently.
“Anna,” I say, taking another step forward. “Let me explain.”
She reluctantly trains her gaze back on me and sweeps a hand in front of her. “Please, enlighten me as to why you gave a fake name, had sex with me, then left without so much as a goodbye.”
Her words barrel through me, knocking me off balance. I’m an arsehole.
My jaw pops as I consider my next words carefully, deciding they’d better be honest. “You were the only one in that bar who didn’t look at me like the rest of them do.”
She pauses. “And how’s that?”
“Like I’m either their meal ticket or a disgrace,” I say, meeting her gaze.
I can see the moment that understanding dawns. She was there that night. She probably noticed the people watching us at the bar, waiting to see if I’d live up to my reputation. If I’d lash out or take one of them home with me.
“I made some poor choices back in Dublin. And now Finn’s living with them, and I just . . .” God, what am I saying? I sigh. “It felt good not being known, I guess.”
She looks away and I can’t read her expression.
I step closer. “I apologize for lying to you, Anna.”
She dips her chin. “All right.”
“All right?” I say, hopeful.
“Well, no. It’s not all right. It was total bollocks. But I understand why you did it.” She takes a seat, gesturing to the chair opposite. “Regardless of your shite behavior, I think we should talk about Finn.” She clasps her hands together on the desk.
I clear my throat. “Right.” I throw a thumb over my shoulder. “I saw him playing outside with his friend.”
She nods. “Yes, Yuki. They’ve become great pals.”
Finn barely speaks at home, but he has mentioned Yuki briefly in passing. I’m beyond relieved that he’s made a friend.
“Before we get into this, I want you to know that I think you have an amazing son, Mr. Murphy—”
“Liam,” I say. “Just call me Liam.”
“Right. Liam.” She rolls my name around her tongue as if she’s tasting it for the first time. And hell, I like the way it sounds.
Her lips flatten. “And I also feel like I need to offer an apology.”
My brows furrow. “Why would you need to apologize?”
“For what one of our students said to Finn. That comment he made—”
She doesn’t use his name. “You mean Josh,” I supply.
Her chest rises with a slow breath.
Hold on, I didn’t know about any comment. My spine snaps straight as my pulse turns to pricks. “What comment?”
She opens her mouth to speak but closes it again, brushing her hair behind her ear.
“Christ,” I say, rubbing a hand down my face. My voice turns hard. “What did he say to Finn?”
She swallows. “He called Finn’s mother… a two-bit whore.”
My nostrils flare as rage floods through me. Where the fuck does a seven-year-old learn to say something like that?
Is this what Finn’s been dealing with? While I’ve been worried about him being quiet at the dinner table, he’s been getting torn apart at school by some little shite whose parents clearly don’t monitor what comes out of their mouths.
No wonder he’s shut down at home. He’s already paying for his mother walking out, now he has to deal with other kids throwing it in his face?
He didn’t ask for any of this. Not Tash leaving, not my reputation, not starting over in a new school.
“Fucking hell.” My face drops into my hands.
There’s steel in her eyes when she looks at me.
“I want you to know that I’m taking this issue further.
I’ve documented everything. The student’s behavior and attitude have been completely unacceptable and, frankly, I don’t really blame Finn for wanting to hit him.
However, because of school policy, I have to treat the physical altercation fairly and figure out what’s causing this other student to behave so badly.
Finn will need to be suspended for two days. ”
I open my mouth to respond but she holds her hand up. “Liam, I can’t be seen to pick favorites or choose sides, even though we both know the other student provoked him.”
My jaw tightens. “And what happens to Josh?”
“The other student will face much harsher consequences. I’ll be having a serious conversation with his parents and the school principal about his behavior.
This isn’t the first incident this student has been involved in in this way, and I’d like to stress that Richmond Private doesn’t tolerate bullies.
” Her voice hardens. “I’ll make sure everyone understands that. ”
I drop my head in my hands. How did we get here?
He learned it from me. From hearing about me losing control and going after Adam bloody Keogh.
I look up. “I understand. He shouldn’t have hit that kid. That’s on me. I’ll talk to him.”
She reaches forward, her hand covering mine on the desk. A jolt shoots through me at the contact, and I have to resist the urge to turn my palm up and thread our fingers together.
“Give yourself some credit. He’s done an amazing job at ignoring the taunts until now.
I can read kids, Liam. I know punching someone isn’t a natural response from Finn.
It wasn’t his first reaction, it was his last.” She leans closer.
“Finn is a good boy. He was defending himself and his family. As a human, that matters to me, even if policy says I can’t show it. ”
I see the moment she realizes what she’s done. Touched me. She jerks her hand back, curling it in her lap.
“I appreciate it. Thank you,” I say, my voice thick.
She nods once. “I’ll have everything written up and you’ll hear from the Head of Year about Finn’s suspension dates. If there’s anything else you need, please don’t hesitate to get in touch.” She stands, pushing her chair back.
“I won’t. Thanks for looking out for him,” I reply, extending my hand to shake hers.
It’s innocent enough, but I notice the faint flush that spreads across her cheeks and the way her breath hitches slightly as her palm slides against mine.
For a moment, we just stare at each other, hands still connected.
I remember exactly how those fingers felt, running along my bare chest, tracing the lines of my tattoo.
She’s the first to pull away, clearing her throat and twining her hands in front of her. “You’re welcome,” she says.
I start to leave but pause when I reach the door, like my brain refuses to let my body leave without sharing another honest truth with her.
I want to see her again. I want to call her.
“There is one other thing I regret, you know,” I say, turning back to face her.
She’s still standing behind her desk. “What’s that?”
“Leaving without saying goodbye.” I meet her eyes, letting her know exactly how much I mean it. “I’ve regretted that every day since.”
Her lips part slightly and I think she might say something. Instead, she watches me with those caramel eyes that have haunted my dreams for a month.
I want to ask her out. Want to take her somewhere with low lighting and good wine and see if what happened between us that night was real, or just two people acting on impulse and desperation.
But then I look around the room. At stick-figure drawings tacked to the walls, glitter everywhere, tiny chairs, and reality seeps in. This is who I am now. A single father who’s done nothing these past few months except set a bad example for a son who’s become a shell of himself.
Anna deserves better than what I’ve made of my life.
My focus is Finn.
So, instead, I knock my knuckles against the doorframe and force myself to walk away from her. Again.