TWENTY-THREE
My stomach rumbled, caving in on itself.
“Shit,” I muttered.
I opened and closed the kitchen cupboards for the third time that hour. Since Liam had started making all my meals, I didn’t need to buy anything for the little kitchenette in the annexe. I checked my phone—eleven p.m. It was too late to order anything; all the restaurants on my phone were closed.
Fuck’s sake.
I was pretty sure Liam was asleep, so I shoved my feet into my fluffy slippers and padded outside and down the stone path, mentally berating myself.
All day, I’d done a good job of avoiding Liam. I distracted myself. I reordered the spices in the kitchenette. I attempted to read, shifting in the armchair, but I was too restless sitting in one spot. I bit my lip until it bled and my nails down to the quick. I was in purgatory between a stupid kiss and an awkward conversation. I knew it was cowardly, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at Liam. To sweep it under the carpet. To say I hadn’t meant it .
A loud screech sounded from the trees, an owl.
“Shut it,” I hissed as I approached the bifold doors.
I tested the handle, and it lowered. Liam had left it open, and I winced as the door creaked. I made a note to lecture him about safety, but how much could I lecture him now? Were we even friends?
I tiptoed into Liam’s kitchen, finding a loaf of bread in his bread bin. I thanked some random deity for carbohydrates and placed two slices in the toaster, my stomach roaring to life like a disused engine.
“Kat?” A low grumble came from behind me, and I whipped around, giving a short, sharp scream. Liam stood in the doorway in blue boxers and a dark grey hoodie with white sports socks on his feet. His large muscled thighs were on display, and I held back the thought of running my tongue across those muscles. No. Those were not appropriate thoughts about the man I threw myself at the night before. He ran his hands through his hair, revealing a line of defined muscles above his boxers.
Liam squinted, his hair sticking up at the back. He had no idea he was the perfect combination of cute and sexy right now.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice concerned.
He rubbed an eye, coming over to where I stood, frozen, at the toaster. He looked me over, sweeping down my bare legs in my pyjamas—the same floral silky ones I had been wearing when he’d come into my house unannounced. His eyes sat there for a beat longer, making me squirm.
He made a low sound, almost like a groan. The noise shot straight through me and lower. “Are those the only pyjamas you own, Red?” he asked, voice gravelly. “Or are you just trying to torment me?”
“Torment?” I laughed awkwardly. “I’m just making some food. I’m sorry I woke you up. I didn’t have anything at the annexe. You’ve been making so much food for me, so I haven’t had to buy anything. I hope you don’t mind—” The toaster popped, and I watched Liam’s large hand lean from behind me to pick up the toast. His forearms brushed my shoulder. He must have asbestos hands because he didn’t even flinch at the heat.
“I’ll make you something,” he said, his breath moving my hair. It smelt minty, like he had just brushed his teeth.
Liam’s hands came to my shoulders, mercifully covered, but he lingered there like he didn’t know what to do next. Gently, he moved me to the side, pulling out a butter dish and pans out from the kitchen cupboards.
I smelt cedar, too. I thought it was his cologne, but maybe it was his body wash.
“Nduja cheese toasty sound good?” Liam asked, his eyes moving back to my legs, lingering there again.
“Yeah, that sounds amazing,” I admitted. “Thank you.”
Silence fell in the kitchen, heavy.
“Kat—” Liam began, just as I blurted out, “So, have you always liked to cook—”
Liam stared at me for a moment before relenting. “Yes.”
“Nice. Cool.” I winced. Fucking freak. More silence. I played with the hair bobble on my wrist, looking anywhere but Liam. Eventually, I snuck a peek at him, only to find him looking at me, a smirk on his face, his arms wide across the kitchen worktops. The pan was slowly melting a knob of butter.
“You hate quiet, don’t you?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Red.”
“Okay, yes. I hate it. Could you please just talk about something? Anything.”
“I wanted to be a chef.”
Oh. I hadn’t expected that.
“Before the pandemic, I was about to open a restaurant with my brother. Ren and I had signed a lease on a unit just around the corner. We’d built the concept and planned the menus. Ren was going to be the general manager and oversee the bar. I would be in the kitchen. The one thing—the only thing I had to do was tell my dad. I was dreading it. I put it off. So when the pandemic happened… well, it felt like a sign. The worst timing in the world to open a hospitality business. It wasn’t a good time to take risks. So, I was saved from having to tell Dad.”
I tried not to get distracted by Liam’s forearms as he grated cheddar, spread a dark red paste onto the bread and assembled them into sandwiches.
“I can’t imagine being that close to something you wanted so badly.”
Liam shrugged, but I could see the sadness in his eyes, even as he glanced away.
“Would you do it again?” I asked. “If you had the chance?”
Liam placed the sandwiches onto the hot pan, making it sizzle.
“I let him down.”
“Who? ”
“My brother. I let him down. It’s the reason he up and left the country. He’d quit his job—” Liam hissed as he accidentally burnt himself, turning over the toasty with his hands. I jumped up, striding over to him, instinctively.
“Careful,” I chided as I got a closer look at his hand, which was red and irritated.
“It’s fine, Red.” He smiled when I met his gaze. “I do it all the time.”
We stared at each other a moment, and I wondered if he was also aware of the last time we stood this close, in this kitchen. Liam was the first to look away, turning to flip over the second toasty, more careful not to burn himself this time.
“You should talk to him,” I said after a few seconds. “About the restaurant. If it’s something you want to do.”
Liam was quiet for a moment and then said, “Yeah. Maybe.”
“Do you still want to do it?”
“I think about it all the time.” He kept his gaze down, and his cheeks flushed like he was confessing to something embarrassing. “I think about menus before bed. Wake up the next day wanting to test them out at home.” He shook his head. “But it’s my fault. I chickened out.”
“You should talk to him even if it’s just an excuse to make things right. I know I wish I had with Dad. Before it was too late.”
Liam turned to me. “Okay, Red, if it makes you happy. I will.” His tone didn’t sound… happy. It was almost resigned. He stared down at the pan; one side of the toasty was a golden brown, the other sizzling away.
“You avoided me today. ”
“I—”
“Why?” He turned to face me, his expression frank and earnest. He was so bloody direct. I took a deep breath in.
If he wanted direct, he’d get direct.
“I felt awkward about the kiss situation. And what I said after meeting Yasmin and Abigail. I didn’t know what to say. Well, actually, I did know what I wanted to say.” I exhaled, preparing my speech. “I’m really, really sorry about what I said this morning. I was a total bitch, and I really shouldn’t have brought all my baggage into this. And I’m also sorry for the drunken kiss—that was a moment of true insanity that I don’t think I will ever live down in my whole life. Like full-body cringing forever.
“So you hid.”
“What? Did you hear what I just said?”
“I heard you. I just want to understand why you hid rather than saying that to me.”
“I was being a chicken.” I threw my hands up. “A big fucking chicken.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“If you need to hide for a while, that’s fine. But let me know when you need space. I was worried. I didn’t like it.” His eyes searched mine in a way that made my throat tighten.
“Okay. I will,” I said, dumbfounded.
Liam nodded and slid the toasty out of the pan onto my plate, all crunchy yet gooey. I bit into it, tasting the sharpness of the cheddar cheese followed by the smoky, spicy taste of the nduja. It was a perfect midnight snack .
“Do you want some?” I asked around a mouthful.
Liam’s lips twitched. “No, I’m fine, Red.” He moved closer as I finished my last few bites. “Did you eat today?” His eyes were roaming mine like he was looking for the answer in my skin or the colour of my eyes. I smelt cedar again, and I wanted to rub my head into his hoodie like a fucking cat.
Ugh, so pathetic.
This was a full-blown crush, and I felt utterly out of control. And I had enough I needed to control—for example, myself.
“Hmm?” Liam asked expectantly. Right. He’d asked a question.
“Ah—no.” I racked my brain. “I don’t think so. I had a coffee with Lydia today.”
Liam tutted. Actually tutted.
Was that hot? Did I want him to tut at me again?
Is that what he would be like in bed? Demanding, coaching, and maybe a little stern. Would he guide my hands to places he wanted them? Would he place my hand in his hair as he—
“Don’t look at me like that, Red,” Liam said, his eyes darkened. “Or I’m—no, we’re—going to do something you’ll regret in the morning.”
“What—what do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” Liam stepped forward, taking the plate from my hands, his warm hands lingering on mine. His thighs brushed mine as he leaned forward.
“Oranges,” he murmured near my hair. “That smell has been driving me insane. At work and then at home, too.”
“Has it?” I asked in a voice that sounded so foreign.
I craned my neck up to look at him. His eyes were tracking mine, gazing into me like he was trying to read me. I glanced down at his lips. They looked so full and soft. Liam’s hand reached up to hold my jaw.
“This okay?” he murmured.
“Yes.”
He leaned down and ran his nose along my neck, making me arch into the touch. This—this was incredible. Liam hummed appreciatively and kissed my neck right where it was sensitive. I gasped at the contact. It was such a soft, delicate kiss, but my body did not register it as soft or delicate. It was burning up from the inside, white-hot.
“You make the sounds I imagined, too,” he said so quietly I could have missed it. My hands reached his biceps to pull him towards me. I needed more of him.
Liam’s other hand grazed where my shorts met my thighs. “Driving me mad in these shorts. When I saw you in them the first time at your house.” His hand moved further up, and I shivered. “I didn’t know where to look. I thought it was a good thing you kicked me out. It was a good thing you didn’t want to hire me. Because at least I didn’t have to see you in these shorts.”
I inhaled sharply, lust-addling my thoughts for a moment. Then, I remembered where I was and who said those words to me.
“Liam. What are we doing?”
It was like a pint of water had been thrown on Liam’s head. He stepped back, and I watched him subtly rearrange his boxers.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” Liam ran his hands through his hair. “I swore to myself I wouldn’t go there, even when I wanted to. Then, I couldn’t deny it anymore. Not when you felt so good in my arms when we danced.” His eyes followed my curves, lighting little fires across my hips and my legs. “So I told myself I would ask you out properly once I spoke to Yasmin.”
I gasped. “What—you. You want to ask me out?”
“Yas and I agreed to give each other a heads-up when we started seeing someone seriously so we didn’t confuse Abigail. It’s not the kind of conversation I wanted to have over the phone. They were due back tomorrow. But then they came over this morning—”
“Wait—Liam. What are you saying?”
Liam took the final step and closed the space between us. My hands couldn’t help but wrap themselves into his hoodie. It was softer than I expected, and my squirrel brain idly wondered if he had a thing for cashmere. I could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes and ridiculously long, dark eyelashes. His eyes searched mine, then got caught on my lips.
“I like you, Kat.”
“You like me.”
“I like you. I think I’ve liked you since you ran at me with a lamp.” His lips twitched. “Or maybe since you called me a prick in the church car park. I liked you even more when you were determined to renovate a house all by yourself, with absolutely no experience.” He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “And I couldn’t resist helping you because when your beautiful face drops in disappointment, it’s like a punch to my stomach. I can’t stand it.” Liam shook his head, like he still couldn’t quite believe it himself. “So yeah. I like you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I annoy you.”
“You don’t annoy me.”
“Liar! I’ve seen it on your face!”
Liam gave me a small smile. “I think you’re entertaining. Chaotic. Captivating. But you don’t annoy me. Usually.”
“‘Usually’ implies I annoy you sometimes.”
“You’re annoying me now.”
“Prove it.”
“Okay.” He stepped back. “Well, I agreed to renovate your house, and I saved you from a collapsing tent.”
“That was just to gloat.” I crossed my arms.
Liam smiled. “That was just a bonus. I fixed the lock on your house because I couldn’t stand the thought of you not being safe. I make you dinner every night because I refuse to let you starve. And ’cos a bag of crisps doesn’t count as dinner.” He took a step forward, standing in front of me. “And there is the fact I can’t stop thinking about you all the fucking time. I can’t get you out of my head.”
Breath left my lungs at his words, but a bit of me couldn’t believe what he was saying.
“But when I kissed you, you looked like you wanted the ground to swallow you up.”
Liam looked at me through dark eyelashes. “I didn’t want the ground to swallow me up. You were tipsy. And you’d had a rough day. You were grieving, and I didn’t want to… take advantage. Knowing you might not be in control of all your decisions. That you might regret it.” Liam’s face tightened. “I’ve woken up and regretted things I’ve done before. It’s not a pleasant feeling.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
“It’s fine,” he said, twirling a lock of my hair around his finger.
My eyes were laser-focused on his earnest face as he shared this with me. This was so new, so delicate. We were both walking on a tightrope, both scared to look down. His eyes met mine, then flickered to my mouth. I felt a swoop in my stomach.
He leaned in, whispering in my ear. “The kiss was everything, Kat. I haven’t felt this way about anyone. Ever. So I wanted to be careful. I wanted to do things properly. I’ve spent so much time fucking things up, and I can’t do that again. Not with you.”
His hand touched my elbow and traced it down to my palm tentatively. Exploring. Asking a question. I answered by touching him back. A flicker of relief on his face. It had taken a lot for him to confess.
His chest was heaving, his voice faltering.
Liam was nervous.
So, I made the first move.
I pushed up onto my toes and pressed my mouth against his.