Chapter Twenty-One
Maggie
There’s something deeply primal about watching a man tend to a fire, even if it’s a gas one.
The way Liam crouches down, adjusting the flame’s intensity with steady hands, is captivating.
His broad shoulders move with precision, his back flexing beneath his shirt, and I catch myself staring, my heart pounding in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with the warm glow of the flames.
I sink deeper into the plush couch, curling my legs beneath me, but it does very little to quell the heat building between my thighs.
Every movement Liam makes only stokes it further.
It’s maddening. How can one person be so effortlessly magnetic?
His tousled hair, his strong hands, the way he carries himself—it’s like he was designed to mess with my head.
He finally stands, brushing his hands on his jeans, and turns to me with a satisfied grin. “There. Perfect.”
I nod, my throat dry. “Thanks. I didn’t realize watching someone adjust a thermostat could be so… enthralling.”
His lips quirk, and he crosses his arms, leaning against the wall like he knows exactly what effect he has on me. “Enthralling, huh? I’ll take that as a compliment.”
I roll my eyes, trying to play it cool, but the way his gaze lingers on me makes my pulse race even faster. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late,” he teases, flashing that lopsided grin that could probably charm a nun.
I clutch a throw pillow, as if it’ll somehow shield me from the pull he has on me. “So, what’s next on our blizzard survival agenda? More snacks? Storytime? Or do we just stare awkwardly at each other until the power comes back on?”
He chuckles, moving to sit on the other end of the couch. The space feels simultaneously too close and not close enough. “How about we play a game?”
I arch a brow. “A game?”
“Yeah. Something simple. Like… twenty questions.”
I laugh softly. “You want to play twenty questions? What are we, in middle school?”
“Hey, don’t knock it,” he says, leaning back and draping one arm casually over the back of the couch. “It’s a classic. And besides, it’s a great way to get to know someone.”
“Fine,” I relent, mostly because I’m curious what he’ll ask. “You first.”
He strokes his chin dramatically, pretending to think. “Alright. What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?”
I groan. “We’re starting strong, huh?”
“Absolutely,” he says with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Okay.” I chew on my lip, debating which story to share. “When I was in high school, I was so nervous before a big presentation that I tripped over the microphone cord and knocked the entire podium over. Papers everywhere. Total disaster.”
Liam bursts out laughing, and I can’t help but laugh with him. “That’s amazing. Wish I’d been there to see it.”
“Of course, you do,” I reply, tossing the pillow at him. He catches it easily, his grin never fading.
“Your turn,” he prompts.
“Alright.” I sit up a little straighter, feeling bold. “What’s your biggest regret?”
His smile falters for a moment, and something flickers in his eyes—something deep and unguarded.
But he recovers quickly, leaning forward slightly.
“Not taking enough time to enjoy the moments in between competitions. I’ve spent so much time chasing goals that I think I missed a lot of the little things. ”
His answer catches me off guard, and my chest tightens unexpectedly. “That’s… honest,” I say softly.
“I try to be,” he replies, his voice equally soft.
The air between us shifts, becoming heavier, more charged. The game falls away, replaced by a silence that feels like it’s holding its breath. I realize I’m staring at him again, my gaze tracing the strong line of his jaw, the way the firelight dances in his brown eyes.
“What’s your favorite food?” Liam waggles his eyebrows at me.
“Italian,” I reply, though our eyes meet and no matter how hard I try, I can’t look away.
“Your turn,” he says.
I blink, breaking the spell. “What?”
“It’s your turn to ask a question,” he reminds me, though his tone suggests he’s not in a hurry for me to come up with one.
My mind blanks. The only thing I can think to ask is, Why do you make me feel like this? But instead, I say, “What’s something you’ve never told anyone before?”
His gaze locks onto mine, and for a moment, I think he’s going to deflect or turn the question into a joke. But then, he leans in just a fraction, his expression unreadable. “That I’m terrified of what comes next.”
His honesty cuts right through me, and I don’t know what to say. But I don’t think he’s looking for words.
Before I can stop myself, I reach out, my fingers brushing against his hand where it rests on the couch. He glances down at the contact, then back up at me, and I see the same heat reflected in his eyes.
Neither of us moves for a moment, the room silent except for the crackling fire. And then, slowly, deliberately, he shifts closer, his warmth overwhelming, his presence magnetic.
“Your turn,” I murmur. It comes out breathy and filled with something I don’t dare acknowledge.
But he doesn’t answer. Instead, he closes the remaining distance between us and I instantly react, seeking his mouth with my own. He’s warm and welcoming, and I feel the fire rage inside me, angry and hot.
His fingers run through my hair as I climb into his lap and straddle his waist. He tastes like bad decisions and danger and chocolate.
I gasp softly against his lips, but the sound is quickly swallowed by his kiss, hot and demanding.
His hands tangle in my hair, tugging just enough to make my scalp tingle.
A low growl escapes him, and it sends a shiver racing down my spine, pooling heat low in my stomach.
Without thinking, I grind my hips against his, needing to be closer, needing more.
His hands slide down to my waist, gripping me with a possessiveness that makes my pulse skyrocket. I feel his strength beneath me, the way his body tenses and reacts to mine, and it’s intoxicating.
“Maggie,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice a mix of awe and desperation. His breath is balmy, ragged, and every word fans the flames inside me. “You’re going to ruin me.”
I smile into the kiss, my hands threading through his messy hair, tugging just enough to earn a sharp intake of breath from him. “Right back at you, Thompson,” I whisper, low and teasing.
His lips curve into a grin that I feel against my mouth, but he doesn’t stop.
Instead, he pulls me closer, his hands skimming up my back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
The world outside the room disappears—there’s no snowstorm, no blizzard, no story.
Just us, tangled in the glow of the firelight, the only sound the crackling flames and the soft, heady gasps we draw from each other.
His heartbeat pounds beneath my palms, fast and erratic, matching the rhythm of my own. “You’re playing with fire,” he growls, his lips skimming down the curve of my neck, his stubble brushing against my skin and making me shiver.
I tilt my head back, giving him more access, my fingers curling against his shoulders. “Good thing I like the heat,” I manage, breathless and trembling.
His laughter is low and rough, reverberating through me. “Maggie Cooper,” he murmurs, the sound filled with both amusement and awe. “You are dangerous.”
“So are you,” I counter, my lips finding his again, and this time, the kiss is deeper, more consuming.
It’s reckless and wild, and for once, I let myself lean into it, let myself feel everything. His touch, his heat, his presence. It’s overwhelming in the best way, like diving headfirst into the deep end of the pool.
Right now, with the firelight casting golden shadows across his face and the storm raging outside, I don’t care about consequences or tomorrow. I only care about right now. Here. With him.
My fingers drift to the hem of his shirt, skimming the sultry, taut skin beneath. My touch is tentative at first, but as his body jerks in response, I feel a surge of confidence. His reaction—the way his muscles tense and a soft groan escapes his lips—makes me smile against his mouth.
Slowly, I tug the fabric higher, feeling the ridges of his abs under my fingertips.
Liam doesn’t stop me; instead, he deepens the kiss, his hands sliding up my sides, encouraging me.
When the shirt bunches near his chest, he raises his arms over his head, and we break the kiss just long enough for me to pull the material free and toss it aside.
For a moment, I just stare. His chest is broad and strong, the firelight casting amber shadows over the defined lines of his muscles.
His skin is warm under my palms, and something unexpected twists in my chest. It’s not just desire—though that’s there in spades—but a longing I haven’t let myself feel in years.
I’ve missed this closeness, this raw intimacy that comes from letting someone in.
But then the voice in my head starts up again. You have to stop, Maggie. You don’t know him. You’ve barely spent any time with him.
And yet, when Liam leans forward, cupping my face with both hands and kissing me with a tenderness that feels like it might undo me, every ounce of logic evaporates. His lips, his touch, the way he holds me like I’m the only thing that matters—it’s all too much, and not enough, all at once.
His fingers trace patterns down my back, pulling me closer, until there’s no space left between us. It’s maddening, this barrier of clothing that keeps us apart. My resolve crumbles completely. One night, I tell myself. One reckless, passionate night.
With a deep breath, I make a bold move, tugging the sweater over my head and letting it fall to the floor.
Liam’s eyes widen, his gaze locking onto me with an intensity that makes my breath hitch.
The firelight reflects in his chocolate-brown eyes, and his expression shifts from surprise to something deeper, something that makes my skin flush.
“Wow,” he breathes. His hands hover at my sides, as if he’s afraid to touch me, afraid to break the moment. “You’re… stunning.”
A blush creeps up my neck, but I don’t look away. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
That lopsided grin of his makes a reappearance, and he leans forward, his lips brushing against mine in a kiss so gentle it feels like a promise. His hands finally settle on my waist, his thumbs grazing my skin, and the warmth of his touch sends shivers racing through me.
As the fire crackles in the background and the snow continues to fall outside, I let myself get lost in him. Just for tonight. Just for this moment. Right now, there’s only Liam.