Chapter 22 Liam
Liam
My body hums as I dream of a small hand wrapping around my dick. It’s soft and tight, sliding over me in a slow, steady rhythm that has me groaning in my sleep. I shift against the sheets, chasing the sensation as my cock leaks pre-cum.
Only, when I blink awake, the dream doesn’t stop. My breath stutters as my eyes adjust to the golden wash of Anna’s bedroom.
I stayed over.
I turn my head to find her perched on one elbow beside me, a determined look on her face. Her hair is wild around her shoulders; her plump lip caught between her teeth as her fist glides up and down my length.
“Good morning,” I rasp, my voice gravelly from sleep.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she whispers, shrugging a shoulder. “You were hard.”
I smile, bucking my hips into her fist as a rumble vibrates in my chest. “You’re killing me,” I growl, my hand traveling down her soft body to find her pussy wet and ripe.
She shakes her head. “Not killing you. Taking care of you.”
And fuck if that doesn’t undo me.
“Then let me do the same,” I say.
My fingers work in tandem with her fist, as we coax each other to climax, my cock pulsing and coating my stomach with ropes of cum as she shivers and jolts, my fingers buried inside her.
When we both slump in relief, I drag her on top of me, pushing her hair out of her face and crushing my lips to hers.
“What time do you need to pick Finn up?” she asks.
I turn my head, eyeing the clock on her bedside. “I’m due to pick him up at ten,” I say.
It’s 8:30 am.
Her lips curve. “Time for coffee?”
I smirk. “Would love one.”
We untangle and I shove my legs back into my jeans, slipping my phone from the pocket and reading the notification banner.
Danielle: Call me when you’re free.
I ignore the message, and follow Anna into the kitchen. She’s slipped another small robe on—fluffy and cream-colored this time—and I find myself watching her smooth, toned calves as she stretches up on her toes to reach the coffee pods from the shelf.
She turns around as we wait for the milk to froth, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.
I settle into one of the chairs at her small kitchen table, scooting out and patting my thigh.
An invitation. She pads over, curling up on my lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I bury my face in the curve of her neck, breathing in her sweet, sleepy scent.
Then it hits me.
Shite.
This is couple-y as hell.
I should be pushing her away. But I can’t make myself move. Selfishly, I enjoy her company too much. My hands move on their own, one settling on her hip while the other passes over her bare thigh.
“Did you sleep well?” I say against her neck.
She nods. “Yeah. Did you?”
I haven’t slept this well in months.
“Yeah,” I say simply.
“Thanks for staying,” she says, heat coloring her cheeks.
I give her a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for having me.”
“How did you get here last night?”
“Uber. I left my car at the training grounds.”
“Oh,” she says, chewing her cheek. “Do you need a lift to pick it up?”
“Yeah, actually,” I say, giving her another squeeze. “If you don’t mind, that would be great.”
She smiles. “No problem.”
The milk frother hisses to a stop and she fills two mugs, bringing both back and handing one to me. I take a long pull and almost moan. Coffee always tastes better when someone else makes it.
She plops down in the seat opposite me. Cradling her mug and sipping quietly.
“What are your plans for today?” I ask.
“I’m not entirely sure,” she says, tucking a leg up under herself. “I started back at yoga so I might see if there are any drop-in spots available for today’s classes.”
“You do yoga?” I ask. That explains why she’s so flexible.
She drops her gaze. “Yeah. I just started back recently. After my last relationship, I kind of… stopped doing things I enjoyed. Yoga was one of the casualties.”
I understand that feeling. After Tash left, I didn’t want to do anything except lie in bed and feel sorry for myself. The only reason I dragged myself up each morning was Finn.
“How did it feel?” I ask. “Going back?”
Her face brightens. “Actually, it felt really good.” She smiles softly. “Gemma and April basically forced me into it… but what they failed to tell me was that it was hot yoga.”
I wince. “Sounds brutal.”
She laughs. “It was. But it also felt good to do something just for me again, you know?”
I do know. I’d stopped seeing mates, stopped calling Roman. Stopped going places that reminded me of Tash or the life we’d built together. Part of the appeal in coming to England was escaping all of that.
“Yeah,” I say. “I get that.”
“Did you . . .” she starts, then hesitates, ducking her chin like she’s not sure she should ask. “Did you also stop doing things you loved?”
I haven’t really talked to anyone about this. But I don’t know what it is… there’s something comforting about being here with her that makes it feel safe to be honest.
“Yeah,” I swallow. “For a period, I didn’t care if I ever touched a football again. Cancelled plans with friends, ignored my family. But after a short while, I realized I had to keep going.”
“For Finn,” she says, definitively.
“Yeah. For Finn.”
The corner of her lips tilt. “He’ll see that, you know? How hard you’re trying.”
I almost scoff. “I’m not sure he will. I think he’s just so .
. .” I have to force the next words out.
“He’s so caught up in his own grief and I .
. .” I drag a hand through my hair. “I messed up, hitting my teammate. I know I did. But when I found out about him and Tash, I just… I didn’t know what else to do with all that rage. ”
The admission floats between us. I didn’t intend to be this vulnerable.
“You were in pain, Liam,” she says. “We don’t all make perfect decisions when we’re hurting. What matters is that you’re still here. You didn’t let it break you. And that’s what Finn will remember.”
I nod, taking a sip, unsure of what to say. Because how is it that this beautiful woman, who barely knows me, can somehow see something in me that I’m not sure I see in myself?
“Finn’s a good kid,” she says.
“He’s the best,” I say without hesitation.
She flings one leg over the other, leaning in. “Tell me more about him.”
“Yeah?” I ask, surprised.
She chuckles. “Yes. I’d really like to hear what he’s like. At school he’s so . . .” Her expression softens.
Quiet. He’s so quiet.
“He’s a happy kid. He always was,” I say, staring down at my coffee. “Tash and I were only twenty-four when we got together. We didn’t—” I clear my throat. “We didn’t plan to have Finn. But, God, he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
I look up at Anna. “He’s brilliant. Not just book smart, but for a seven-year-old? He’s so emotionally intelligent. In a way that catches me off guard sometimes. He feels everything so deeply.”
I think about who Finn was before his world went to shit.
“He used to wake me up on weekends by climbing into bed and telling me about his dreams. Asking me about mine. Or about the book he read or the TV show he was watching.” I laugh to myself.
“He doesn’t care about football. He’ll watch a game if I’m playing, but otherwise? Not a chance.”
“Really?” She leans in and props her chin on her fist, listening intently.
I nod, grinning. “Hates it. Prefers basketball.”
She doesn’t ask about Tash. She doesn’t ask about my training schedule or matches or what it’s like being a professional athlete. She doesn’t seem impressed by that world and hasn’t treated me differently because of it. And, Christ, it’s refreshing. Feeling seen for who I am rather than what I do.
When most people find out, their entire demeanor shifts. Suddenly I’m not just Liam. I’m Liam Murphy. They want to know about the money, the fame. They see the headlines and think they know my story and want to be part of it.
Anna’s just… present.
And I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do with that.
“What?” she asks, catching me staring.
My mind’s racing. Where the hell do we go from here, when she has to pretend to not know me? Does she expect to see me again?
Jesus. What the hell am I thinking? What am I doing? My eyes dart to the time on the oven. “I should probably get going,” I say, draining the rest of my coffee.
“Oh,” she says, sitting up straighter, her brows creasing. “Of course. Just let me change and I’ll grab my keys.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind driving me? I’m honestly happy to get the Underground, or an Uber.”
“I’m happy to.” She smiles.
I settle onto her sofa while she disappears into the bathroom. I pull out my phone, scrolling through Instagram notifications from last night’s match when something catches my eye.
There’s a small pile of documents neatly stacked on her coffee table. I lean over slightly, squinting at the letterhead:
Little Seeds Reproductive Care: Egg Freezing
My thumb stops mid-scroll.
I stare at the papers without really reading them, my mind spinning. I never asked Anna why her last relationship ended, but suddenly the pieces are clicking into place.
Curiosity gets the better of me. What else is underneath that first document? It’s none of your bloody business, my brain warns me. My fingers itch. Unable to help myself, I gently lift the top piece of paper, revealing what’s underneath.
Final Order in the Family Court sitting at West London
My brows hike up. So she was married. I lift to the next document.
Sperm Donor Profiles: Your Path to Parenthood
Holy shit. It’s a brochure of donors. I flip through it: photos, descriptions, medical histories.
Anna wants to be a mum.
I jolt as a melodic voice interrupts me. “Find anything interesting?”