Chapter 27 Liam
Liam
I don’t even think before I jump into action, calling Roman and organizing for Finn to stay with him tonight. I help Finn pack an overnight bag and rush him over.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” Roman asks, his features creased with worry. Finn barrels through the doorway, oblivious to my concern as he darts upstairs, calling out to Melody.
“Dunno, Anna rang. Said she needed me,” I say, my voice clipped.
His mouth pulls into a frown and he leans against his doorway. “Just casual, then?”
I’m not in the mood for his shit. Not when all I can hear is Anna’s panicked, helpless voice. The sound funnels through me, a punch straight to my chest.
I must be wearing my thoughts like a mask because Roman’s face smooths into something more serious. “Shit, it’s bad? Is she all right?”
“I don’t know,” I reply, scrubbing my hand over my jaw.
He nods in understanding. “You’ve got my number if you need anything. Finn’s good with us for the night. If you need us to drop him off at school tomorrow, just say the word, aye?”
I clap him on the shoulder. “Appreciate that, thanks. That’d be grand.”
“Too easy, mate.”
“He’s eaten. He might ask for more food, he’s been a bottomless pit lately. And he hasn’t had a shower yet, so he might need to—”
“Liam.” Roman’s hands land on my shoulders. He jerks his chin toward my car. “I’ve got this. Go.”
The engine growls to life as I tear out of the street.
By the time I reach her building, I’ve managed to calm down.
The twenty-minute drive gave me space to focus on my breathing and distract my racing thoughts with a podcast. There’s no point losing my shit until I know what’s happened.
Right now, Anna needs me steady. Whatever’s happened, I need to be present for it.
She buzzes me in and I race up the stairs, rapping against her door. When she opens it, her gaze doesn’t shift from her feet.
“Hey,” I say, my voice cautious.
“Hey,” she whispers.
Silence hangs between us for a moment.
“Hey, you all right?” I ask, unsure of what to say.
She pauses before dipping her chin slightly.
I step forward, my fingers finding her chin and gently guiding her face up until she’s looking at me. The moment our eyes meet, my heart fractures. She’s pale as paper, her eyes red-rimmed and hollow, purple shadows hanging beneath them. She looks wrecked, exhausted, and not at all like my Anna.
My Anna.
“Baby, what happened?” I gather her into my arms and she collapses against me, her whole body quaking as she gulps down shaky breaths. I rub my hand in slow circles over her back, letting her take all the time she needs to let it out. “What happened?” I repeat, my lips brushing against her ear.
“I just… I don’t want to talk about it,” she murmurs into my shirt.
“Okay,” I stroke her hair. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need you,” she croaks. Her fingers find the hem of my jumper and she begins working it upward with unsteady hands.
I walk her backward carefully, reaching behind me to push the door closed. I help her pull the jumper off and toss it aside. I stand before her, my chest rising and falling with deep breaths.
“Are you sure?” I ask quietly, searching her eyes.
She nods, her hands already teasing the waistline of my joggers. “I need to feel something else.”
“Something else?” I ask.
“Please, Liam,” she begs.
My expression falters. “Is this really what you want?”
She looks fucking small.
But determination flickers across her face. “No pressure, no expectations. Just two adults using each other for mutual benefit, right? That’s what this is.”
I force back the knot in my throat. “Yeah,” I manage. “That’s what this is.”
Her gaze pins me in place. “Then use me.”
Not like this. This isn’t her. “I can’t.”
Something about her demeanor is setting me on edge. Sex isn’t what she needs right now. What she needs is to be cared for.
Her eyes fall closed as I reach for her. “Liam,” she breathes, her fingers closing around my wrists.
Her voice breaks something in me. I brush my thumbs across her cheekbones, wiping away tears as I lower my voice. “I’m here, Anna. I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe. You can tell me what happened.”
She chews her lip, looking away momentarily before returning her focus to me.
“Baby, please,” I say. “This arrangement will only work if we’re honest with each other.”
She chews her lip, dropping her gaze to my chest.
“Anna,” I whisper.
She takes a deep breath. “There’s a man at work, Roger. He’s been hitting on me ever since Mason and I got divorced.”
I tamp down the surge of jealousy and possessiveness. She isn’t mine.
I continue stroking her soft skin. “Okay,” I say, my tone level.
“He made a pass at me,” she croaks.
A muscle in my jaw ticks. “When you say he made a pass at you . . .”
She doesn’t look at me. “He . . .” She trails off.
“He what?” I press, straining to keep my voice gentle.
“He cornered me in the staff room and tried to force himself on me. He tried to kiss me.”
A sudden flare of heat surges through my chest, licking at my skin, and I freeze.
“Did he touch you?”
She sniffles.
I wait for her to answer and when she doesn’t, I lower myself to her level, staring into her eyes. “Did he touch you?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
My nostrils flare and I fight to hold back the blaze of anger that’s clawing for release. Without hesitation, I draw her in closer.
“He’d been pestering me to go out with him for months, and I always said no,” she murmurs against my bare skin. “But when he covered my class as a favor, I felt obligated to say yes when he asked again.”
She looks up at me, her whiskey-colored eyes finding mine, misty and earnest. “The drink was horrible. Awful, even. I only went because I thought if I suffered through one drink with him, he’d finally leave me alone. It meant nothing, I promise.”
I squeeze her harder. “You don’t owe me an explanation for having a drink with a colleague. And you sure as hell don’t owe him anything for doing his job. What he did after that? That’s entirely on him.”
She pulls back. Her nose scrunches the tiniest bit. “He obviously got the wrong idea.”
“Christ, Anna.” I shake my head. “I hate that you even had to think like that—that you thought suffering through one drink might make him back off. You shouldn’t have to manage other people’s inability to respect boundaries.”
“I know, but—”
I thread my fingers through her hair. “None of it was your fault. None. Okay?”
The thought that someone laid hands on her, that he essentially blackmailed her into a bleedin’ drink? It makes my blood boil. The bloke must be totally bloody pathetic.
“Okay,” she whispers.
“Thank you for telling me,” I say, my voice soft. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”
“I called you because I couldn’t get the feeling of his gross hands off me. I needed . . .” She trails off, but I understand.
“I know.” And I do, completely. It makes perfect sense that she wanted to forget, to replace his touch with someone else’s. To reclaim her body with something that felt safe. The fact that she trusted me to help her feel in control again? It means so much more than she could ever know.
“I’m honored you called me. Truly, I am.” I press my forehead to hers. “I hope you know that.”
The corner of her mouth twitches.
“Can I do something for you?” I ask.
She hesitates briefly, then gives another nod.
I might not be able to erase the memory of Roger. But I can help her feel something else. So I do.
I reach down to lift her in my arms. She doesn’t protest, she just rests her head against my shoulder, my arm under her knees as I carry her toward the bathroom. I set her down gently on the bath mat and twist the shower tap to heat.
“Arms up,” I say quietly. She raises them overhead so I can pull her shirt off. There’s nothing sexual about the way I undress her, but the moment is more intimate somehow. Her socks and trousers are next to go, followed by my own.
Once the water’s warm, I take her hand, leading us both under the spray. I give her the majority to make sure she’s kept warm. I’m bloody freezing, but I ignore it. This is about her.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice a wisp.
“Taking care of you,” I say, squirting a dollop of her honey and vanilla shampoo into my palm. “Tip your head back.”
She tilts her head back under the spray, lashes wet, lips parted, and I work my fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp until it foams. She releases a low moan when I rub the spot behind her neck, right where it meets her spine. Her shoulders drop as I work my fingers in circles.
“That feels so good,” she breathes.
My mouth curves into a lopsided grin and I lean in to steal a kiss, my fingers still threaded through her hair.
I rinse her carefully, then repeat with her conditioner. I move slowly, as if I have all night to worship her the way she deserves. “Turn around, baby.”
She obeys, and I drag her body wash over every inch of her. My hands slide down her back, over her breasts, between her thighs. When I drop to my knees to soap her legs, she braces both hands against my shoulder to steady herself. “Thank you,” she says.
I lift one foot, pressing my thumbs into her arch, rubbing until she sighs. “I’ll do anything to make you feel better,” I croak.
“My face too?” she asks.
My eyes flick up to lock with hers, and the corners of my lips lift as I nod. “Yeah.”
I push to stand as she passes me her face wash, lathering it in my palms as well. “Close your eyes, baby.”
I smooth the cleanser over her skin slowly. I have no clue if I’m doing it right, but she doesn’t make any comments, so I keep going. My touch is firmer as I massage along her jaw and temples, and she leans into me.
“Done,” I whisper. She tips her head back to rinse and I watch as rivulets of water dance down her delicate features, clinging to her thick lashes and beading on her plump lips.
When she opens her eyes, her mouth ticks up at the corners. “Hi.”
That smile wrecks me, melting straight through my chest like lava.
“Hi.”
Her chin trembles as moisture pricks her eyes, and I draw my brows together.
“Have I done something wrong?” I ask, cradling her face.
A tear escapes, racing down her cheek. “Nothing’s wrong,” she whispers, curling her fingers around my wrists to keep me in place. “That’s the problem. Nothing’s wrong and I don’t remember the last time I felt this—” Her voice breaks and she lets out a shaky laugh. “This cared for.”
I kiss the tear away, holding her steady. “You deserve that, Anna.”
Her lips part and tremble, and she presses her forehead to mine. “I don’t know what to do with you,” she breathes.
I shake my head slightly. “Then don’t do anything,” I murmur, brushing her sodden hair back. “Just let me.”
Turning off the tap, I help her towel-dry and wrap her in her fluffy cream robe. She stays silent when I lift her up and set her on the bathroom counter.
I scan her vanity; I know women use creams and stuff on their skin. Tash had all those products. “Where’s your skin stuff?”
She points to a purple zip-up bag. “There.”
I pull out the products one by one and she smiles, telling me in which order to apply them. I do my best, following her instructions.
“There,” I say when I’m finished. “Better?”
Slowly, she peels her eyes open. “Why are you doing this?”
“You should know what it feels like to be taken care of. And because . . .” I pause.
“Because what?” she whispers.
I’d be lying if I said that whatever’s happening between us didn’t feel right. Because, fuck, it does. I hope to hell she feels it too, because right now I know one thing for certain: whatever’s twisting me up inside isn’t fading. Not anytime soon.
“I want to be the one doing it.”
She gaze is almost pleading. “Liam—”
I shake my head. “You don’t have to say anything.”
She places her hand against my cheek and sighs into me. I wrap my arms around her.
“I’ve got you,” I rasp against her ear.
I bundle her up, tucking her head under my chin as I carry her through the flat. In the bedroom, I lower her onto the mattress and tug the sheets around her, wrapping her in warmth.
“Do you need anything?” I murmur, pushing her hair off her face. “Water?”
Her eyes flutter open as she nods.
When I return with the glass, she’s already fast asleep. Her breathing is steady and her lips parted slightly. I set the water down and slide into bed next to her, drawing her into me. She stirs but doesn’t wake, nuzzling into her pillow.
I tell myself that tomorrow I’ll detach and leave, honoring our agreement.
But tonight, after giving her what she needed, I allow myself to lie awake in the dark with her curled against me, holding her tight.
And, suddenly, I find myself wanting to stand guard against anything that might wrestle its way back in to steal her peace.