Chapter 21
Tessa
The Gators lost. It was only by one when the next Oilers' batter hit a grand slam into the stands. But it was enough to end any chance of a comeback—and add yet another unexpected twist to the weekend.
For the past forty-eight hours, my mind has been sprinting to keep up with Ruthie in a town I barely know while trying to figure out where I'll unpack when we finally get home. And underneath all of that motion, I can't stop thinking about one thing—that moment with Liam in my hotel room.
At first, I was convinced that it meant something.
That it had to considering the electricity between us.
I put all roadblocks and realities aside and told myself that our split-second accident of tight muscles and tangled breaths happened for a reason.
That it jump-started something in me I didn't realize had gone dark.
Like I've been sleepwalking for months, and Liam Montgomery shook me awake.
But then, doubt set in.
In the next breath, I told myself it was nothing.
He got a cramp, and I just so happened to be in the way.
Liam is my boss, a professional baseball player and…
my boss. I either imagined the chemistry or it was completely one-sided—thank you post-breakup emotions.
There is no way Liam Montgomery, who I just started to believe can actually stand to be around me, felt more than just a spasm in that moment.
But with all that in mind, I'm still left contemplating everything.
Is that what attraction really feels like, or did I just get caught up in it all?
Should I even be thinking about someone else this soon?
Was good enough with Trevor ever really enough at all?
Or was the fire Liam started my body's way of saying I felt more in that hotel room than I ever did in my relationship?
I'm so confused.
Which is why I'm sitting here, in the aisle seat of the last row of the plane, waiting to see how our first real interaction since the incident unfolds.
It's been almost two days since we really spent time together.
I was busy with Ruthie considering Liam was busy with baseball, and I spent most of my free time on the phone with landlords looking for a place to live.
But I also avoided this moment as much as possible.
Burying myself in the same book from the flight over, I contemplate which would be better—him sitting next to me or in any other seat besides one of the two open spots in my row.
On one hand, it would be a lot easier to pretend I don’t remember how he smelled or how his shadow loomed over me if he was further away.
Maintaining the distance between us would give me space to remind myself that nothing really happened. Or ever should.
On the other hand, it would be nice to get it over with—to deal with the awkwardness if that's how it goes or to see if I was right—things really did change.
Before I can decide, I hear his nickname tossed around at the front of the plane just as my eyes glaze over the words on the pages in my lap. I pull my arms close to my chest as if that will somehow smother the heat that, once again, immediately grows there, and take one long breath.
Motion in front of me attempts to grab my attention as I glue my gaze to the chapter heading.
This is ridiculous.
The sound of footsteps and a familiar neon green swoosh grows closer as my eyes drop to the floor.
He probably doesn't even remember.
Ruthie's giggling echoes from the front of the plane, the perfect reminder—a grounding anchor. And I force myself to breathe.
Relax, Tessa. I'm sure it was nothing.
The footsteps stop in front of me.
"Hey," Liam says, his voice low and husky.
My stomach drops.
Looks like I'm screwed either way.
I follow the grey sweatpants that hang loosely around his hips—and should absolutely not be allowed on an aircraft—until I get to what truly paralyzes me.
Did I know Liam wore glasses? Thin black frames that somehow make his eyes look greener?
Holy shit.
Yep, totally screwed.
"Oh, hey," I manage. I aim for casual, but my greeting comes out more strangled than anything.
He smiles softly and nods toward the open seats. "May I?"
"Uh, yeah." I scurry out, sliding into the aisle. "Of course."
Liam takes one step closer, peering down at me for what I think is just a passing glance.
But that's when it happens.
There's a half-beat of time where his lips part as his gaze drops to my mouth. One second of déjà vu where if I had blinked too hard I would have missed the way his eyes darkened simultaneously. One sharp breath in from him tells me everything I need to know.
I was right.
He felt it too.
That quick, Liam exhales it all away, his breath heavy from exhaustion, and slides into the row.
He takes the seat next to mine, which I instantly overthink, his body sinking into the cushion like he's still carrying the weight of the loss.
He drags his hand down his face, and the way he pushes his glasses back into place mesmerizes me.
He's not shirtless, and grey sweatpants aren't technically pajamas—and unlike in my fantasy, I'm the one with the romance novel—but still, this image of him completely steals my focus.
"You can sit," he says, his head falling to the side.
I glance down at my empty spot next to him and laugh awkwardly. "Right. Duh."
Grabbing my book off of the slate-blue cushion like a lifeline, I slip into the seat, overly aware of how close his elbow is to mine when he perches it on the armrest. We sit there a minute as his lids fall closed, and I pretend to search for where I left off in the book, knowing damn well that my week-old Drippy's receipt is wedged in a page somewhere holding my spot.
"Get to any good parts yet?" he asks without looking over.
"Uh… " Memories of the story flood my brain as I try to choose one that won't make this moment even more uneasy than it already is.
Sex.
Crime.
Him going down on her in the shower.
"She just moved into the apartment above his bar. Well, she didn't move as much as he lovingly forced her into…"
I peer over at Liam, his expression curious.
"She moved," I finish simply.
He smiles, nodding, then his face falls flat before sitting up straighter and turning toward me. "Wait…" he starts, his eyes full of concern. "You just moved in with Trevor, didn't you?"
My throat tightens at the reminder—and the change of subject. "Sort of," I mutter. I fidget in my seat, pulling one leg up underneath the other, then unfolding it again. "Yeah," I say more confidently. "Not my best move—no pun intended."
Liam hesitates like he wants to ask questions—or reprimand me—then shakes his head. "Are you still going to live with him?" he asks hesitantly. "You know… since…"
His jaw ticks as he swallows hard, and just briefly, we're back in my hotel room.
"God, no," I say with absolute certainty.
I look past him, staring out the window at the open field around us, my mind involuntarily going back to that scene in Trevor's bedroom that I've grown almost grateful for.
Only a handful of times in the last few days have I felt a tinge of sadness coat the memory of our relationship.
And recalling that moment washes it away every time.
It's sad in a way, that I'm not more heartbroken over losing the man that I was with for a while.
But I think it's because at the end of the day, I don't actually feel like I lost much at all.
A member of the ground crew in the distance ends his monotonous rhythm of dropping luggage onto a cart, and the change pulls me back. "No," I say again, rejoining the conversation. "Not after—"
"After what?" he asks eagerly. He creases his brow, more energy in his face than I've seen since the game.
I wave him off. "Nothing important." He tightens his jaw again, but he doesn't push. Instead, he waits for me to continue.
"I could go to my sister's. Or Brooke said I can stay at Drew's old apartment as long as I need to."
"Well, that was nice," Liam says to the headrest in front of him.
My gaze drops nervously to my hands. It's true—supposedly, Drew has no problem keeping his place while I find something more permanent.
I, on the other hand, have a huge problem with allowing him to pay my rent.
My salary from Liam isn't chump change in any sense, but I'm by no means making enough to maintain the Flames' star forward's penthouse.
I force a smile. "Mhmm."
He looks at me, his eyes narrow. "But…"
I shrug. "Nothing."
"Tessa…"
"Liam…"
He arches a brow.
"It's probably easier if I just get a hotel room," I admit. "Until I find something else."
He stares blankly, looking long enough that I glance over my shoulder thinking someone might have stepped up behind me. His face scrunches briefly, almost as if he's having an argument with himself mentally, but then his expression evens out again.
"No," he says definitively.
My forehead creases. "Huh?"
He leans back in his seat, his head pressed against the cushion like he's forcing it there. "No."
I, once again, look around confused. "I—I don't understand what's happening here."
Liam relaxes his shoulders—either confident or defeated—his eyes falling shut. "You'll stay with us."
"Ohh," I drag out, shaking my head, my heart instantly working double time. "No, no, that's not necessary."
"You're not staying in a hotel, Tessa," Liam says, jerking his palms to the armrests.
"Well, no, not forever." I look down at his giant hands wrapped around the padding and watch as his fingers curl in tighter. "Just until I can—"
"You're. Not. Staying. In. A. Hotel." His voice is stern but sincere, his words breaking off in chunks like he's trying to hold them back. But they hit me with an unexpected heat.
I stare at him, not that he notices considering his lids are still closed, attempting to swallow his words—and my reaction to them.
Eventually, he cracks one eye, then sighs in surrender. He sits up, squaring his shoulders my way. "Look… you were going to stay through my next series, then help with Ruthie's party, right?"
I nod.
"Then, there ya go. You can stay with us this week and help me with the prep since I'll be gone again, anyway.
That'll give you the time you need to find something else without staying in some sketchy hotel.
" I go to argue, but he cuts me off. "And it'll give me peace of mind that you won't bring bed bugs into the house. "
I tilt my chin down as he cracks a smile that—mixed with the sweatpants and glasses—should really be illegal. I inhale deeply, considering his suggestion. Admittedly, in the midst of all the action this weekend, I sort of forgot about both his next series and the party, anyway.
"I wasn't planning on staying in a Motel 6…" I mumble defensively, loud enough for him to hear.
He chuckles and rolls his eyes playfully, more at peace than he was before. "Listen, we have a room that's already deemed yours, and you need a place to stay. It's a no brainer."
"I know," I admit. "And I appreciate that, but…"
My voice trails off as Liam paints an expression I haven't seen in probably fifteen years. One that says he's not taking my bullshit, and arguing with him will get me nowhere.
I part my lips, then slam them shut, then open them again. "Did you just…"
The corners of his lips turn up, and I scoff.
"Did you just give me the dad look?"
He purses his lips playfully and lifts one shoulder. "Maybe."
My mouth hangs open as I try to decide if I find the idea more annoying or attractive, then laugh to myself. "Damn," I mutter aloud accidentally, my voice breathy and seductive. I immediately sink into my seat as I come to the obvious conclusion. That was hot.
A chill runs down my back as I replay it in my head, but when he glances in my direction, I fumble for a cover. "You, uh, you really got this whole girl dad thing down."
Liam holds my gaze, licks his lips, then smiles, and I'm forced to look away. I fan the pages in the corner of my book, hoping the slight breeze may cool me down from his silent—yet apparently seductive—reprimand.
"I'm serious, though, Tess. It's not a big deal.
You'll stay with us for the week at least. What's an extra couple of days when I'll be gone, anyway?
If you hate it, you move out after. I'll help you even.
" With that, he peers over, his green eyes piercing through the glass like they do to me. "Please."
His last word hits me in all the right places—the wrong places?
I’m not even sure anymore. Once again, there’s a turn of events for this already emotional weekend, and I’m left with more questions than answers.
Is Liam asking me to stay with him and Ruthie because he wants me there for her?
Because he wants me there for him? Because he feels bad for me and thinks he should?
Either way, I know he means it.
And, surprisingly, the relief I feel outweighs any hesitation.
"Okay," I say softly. "Just for the week. And I'm paying rent."
His shoulders drop from his ears as he falls back into his seat. "It's a perk of the job."
"Not when I'm desperate."
He shakes his head, the corner of his lip curled up, but his hands tight again around the armrest—his body one big contradiction.
"Consider it your party-bonus."