Chapter 20
Twenty
Teddy
“There you go! You got it!” I shout excitedly as the little kid next door, Mikey, scoots around on my longboard.
I was nervous when I got Liam’s text; he’s not one to make sporadic plans.
He does the same thing every day, sticking to a precise schedule—especially during weekdays when he’s working.
So, I did the best thing to calm my nerves.
I smoked myself into a weed coma on our little front porch area.
As I sat there dazedly staring off at the palm trees and loud traffic, body wrapped in the warm comforting blanket of weed, the little dude bounced toward me, hand in hand with his mom.
He immediately noticed my board that I had been using as a footrest and latched onto it.
I told him he could play with it as long as his mother was okay with it.
She seemed relieved and more than happy to have some time to herself.
She had drawn him in for a hug and looked over her shoulder at me saying, “If he gets to be too much, just send him inside.”
I’ve been watching this kid run back and forth, jump around, talk and talk nonstop for the better part of two hours, and I’ve come to the conclusion that this is how people must feel when they’re around me.
Some might see that as a bad thing, I always have, but one thing I can say for certain is I haven’t stopped smiling since he got here. And that’s worth something, I think.
I hear the rough scratch of wheels powering against asphalt and my eyes immediately track Liam as he rolls to a stop in front of me.
He grabs his board up and clasps his other hand around my throat, bringing me in for a searing hot kiss.
He licks into my mouth with such possessiveness that my knees begin to shake.
“Love you, angel,” he breathes, words soaked in adoration, as he lets go of me. I nearly collapse after the intensity of that greeting. I gulp and try to regain my composure.
“Where have you been?” I ask, voice cracking.
“Was at Jazz’s house.” My brows furrow in confusion. I didn’t even think he liked Jazz, certainly not enough to kick it like friends. “He tattooed me. Never knew he did them, but Dame recommended I give him a shot, and damn. I’m glad I did.”
His eyes are bright, and there’s an electric quality to his movements. I narrow my eyes at him because he’s just acting unusual at this point. “Well, let’s see it!” I say expectantly.
“Send the kid home, come inside, and I’ll show you.” He has a secret smile on his face as he heads into our room.
Okay then. “Hey, Mikey, I’m going to turn in for the night. We can play again soon, though.”
“Aw, man!” he complains, but he picks up the board and trudges over. I walk him the few steps to his place and reach out to knock as he rips the door open, words spilling from his mouth about how much fun he had.
I shut the door behind him and rush back to my own room, anxious to see this tattoo that’s got Liam acting like a different person—a cheery person. The thought doesn’t even sit right in my brain.
I push the door open and find Liam in the bathroom, shirtless, looking at his chest in the mirror. I wrap my arms around his middle from behind and lay my cheek against his broad, hard back. He hugs my arms around him before turning around. “Take a look,” he says, voice rough and gravelly.
My eyes find the shiny skin easily and they widen as my mouth falls open on a loud gasp. “Oh my God, Liam! No fucking way!”
“Yes way.” He chews at his plush lower lip a bit, the only sign that he may be a little nervous.
My Golden Angel.
The words grow louder in my head, as does the rapid beat of my heart.
I take in every detail in the tattoo until my eyes grow blurry and my chin trembles.
For me. He got a tattoo for me. Because I’m his golden angel, and he loves me.
The tears welling in my eyes cascade down my blazing hot cheeks.
I look up at him through bleary eyes. “Is this for real? I feel like this is a joke,” I say through the sobs wracking my chest.
“It’s real. It’s permanent, just like us. I told you I’m never gonna go away, and I meant it,” he says the words confidently, not a lingering doubt to be found. He pulls me to him, holding me close to his side, letting me get it all out.
All these years, I’ve longed for this—for him to love me the same way I have always loved him.
For so long, I’ve endured the pain of loving someone, wholly convinced that they could never love me back.
I had to watch him fuck other people, had to watch other people give him the smiles and the laughs I so desperately wanted to give him.
I had accepted the fact that it’d never happen for us.
I tried to move on, tried to give myself to other people, but it never worked.
Nothing could remove him from my heart, and I secretly didn’t want him to go.
And now, here he is, holding me like I’m precious.
Like I’m the most important thing in his life, my memory engraved in his skin forever.
It’s fucking surreal. Things this perfect don’t happen to me.
They just don’t. But I’m looking at the embodiment of my hopes and dreams, right now, in the flesh. I finally have him.
My sobs fade into whimpers. Finally with a crack of a smile, I say, “Look I have one to match.” I lift my shirt and point at the tiny, circular cigarette burn scar. “It’ll probably fade soon, but I can get a tattoo to say Liam was here .”
He laughs loudly, and my smile grows wider. “Yeah, no. Please don’t do that.”
“Try and stop me.” I shoot him an evil smirk. I’m joking of course, well, at least I think I am. I wouldn’t mind putting Property of Liam West on my forehead if I’m being honest with myself. He shakes his head at me.
“I don’t think that came out nearly as threatening as you intended it to,” he teases.
“Hush!”
“Come on, I want to talk to you about something serious.” He walks over to the bed and collapses back onto the pillows. His eyes fall shut as he exhales deeply.
I follow after him and curl around his side, sniffing his spicy, manly scent openly now, without a care in the world. “Can’t we just sleep instead.” I pout.
“No. We need to discuss this, it’s been heavy on my mind, angel.
” He sighs exhaustedly. “I’ve been living in hotel rooms my entire god damn life, and I think I can finally make it out of here.
I’ve been saving up money, hoping that if I show enough money to pay out the rent for a few months, they won’t mind my lack of a credit score.
There’s nothing wrong with someone staying in a hotel until they can get on their feet, but I don’t want to make it a home like my mom always did.
I want a real place to call my own, one where I can buy furniture, and never have to worry about how many people have slept on my bed or sat on my couch before me.
” He visibly cringes but continues. “And you’re coming with me.
You’re going to move in with me and never worry about not having a place to lay your head ever again.
No more sleeping on the beach or crashing at people’s houses.
Fucking never again will you deal with that shit.
” His breathing is labored by the end, the words coming out forcefully.
I don’t even need to consider it, and I don’t mind that he’s telling me what I’m going to do.
I’ve always let him tell me what to do because he only ever wants the best for me.
I’ve always been okay with following his lead.
“Of course, I’ll come with you. But I don’t make nearly as much money as you do, so I don’t know how you want to split up the bills.
We can work it out when the time comes. I have one condition though,” I say, propping myself on one elbow.
He opens his tired eyes. “And what would that be, T?”
“You have to let me decorate however I want to. It’ll look so nice, just give me free rein.”
The corners of his mouth curve upward into the cutest little smile ever. “You can put as much colorful shit into our place as you want to. As long as you’re there, I don’t care.”
Drapes and blankets and tables and rugs drift through my mind, and excitement bubbles up in my chest.
“I can hear you thinking from here. Go to sleep, T,” Liam groans and hugs me tighter.
The past week has flown by in complete calm—every night spent, wrapped around Liam, moves me further and further from the this is too good to be true feeling, and firmly into this feels right territory.
He adores me. I can tell by the way I catch him observing me when I laugh or even when I yawn.
I can tell because he wraps one of my curls around his finger, toying with it while he falls asleep.
He calls me his golden angel when he fucks me .
I’ve heard those words warped by growls and groans and moans.
Heat spreads deep in my chest as the memories flash behind my eyes.
The door chimes, interrupting my thoughts. I glance upward to greet them, and a smile spreads across my face. “Mad!” He walks over to the counter in that lazy stroll of his, and I walk around to meet him with a hug. He squeezes tightly before releasing me. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I needed some blunt wraps and smokes,” he says slyly, a grin on his face.
“Well, shit, I thought you came to see your favorite person.” I shrug. I know he came here for a reason, but I’ll play along with his dumb jokes. It’s so nice to see him again. Every time we go awhile without talking, I assume he’s in jail or something.
“You know I did, Teddy. I do need that stuff, though.” He laughs. I turn around and grab his cigarettes and head toward the blunt wraps.
“You want a whole box, right?” I ask.