Chapter 29
Tessa
Dropping the last box into my room, my breath comes harder. My legs grow weak, and the lowest point of my core aches in a way I've never felt before. I run through a mental calendar of the last time I worked out—at Krunk or in the gym—but then it hits me.
The single trash bag of towels Liam let me carry isn't what's killing me.
"Alright, that's the last one."
Liam drops a box twice the size of the last one he brought up and runs a hand through his hair.
Somewhere between trips four and five, he lost the crewneck he was wearing, and now the plain white tee he had on underneath is clinging to the peaks of his chest, and his bulging biceps are on full display.
My mouth runs dry as I imagine his lips on mine for the thousandth time today—and half of those happened before he kissed me in his truck.
But… he kissed me in his truck.
As always, that conversation between us left me with an almost pleasant whiplash.
I wasn't sure where he was going with the t-shirt thing at first. If there's one thing I can't take more of, it's a grown-man tantrum. But when he came out and admitted the truth—no holding back or pulling away this time—I realized that's something I never had before.
Real investment.
Deep feelings.
Honest communication.
And, my God, it turned me on.
Watching him sling boxes for the next half hour didn't help. But having to ride here in his truck with him smelling the way I like best—like him but with a hint of hard work—nearly put me over the edge.
Now, we're standing here, his hands on his hips and mine pulled tight across my chest to calm the peaks below my sweatshirt. The weight of our conversation from earlier is still hanging between us.
"Thank you," I say, my voice huskier than I intend for it to be.
He tips his chin down. "Of course."
I pinch my lips together to stop myself from blurting What now? What happens next? Liam shoves his hands into his pockets, which is sexy in itself, but the way he looks me over so thoroughly—so obviously—starts a fire I can only attempt to smother by pressing my thighs together tightly.
"What are you—what are you thinking?" I manage to string together.
Liam exhales something close to a groan and takes a step toward me. "We’re home now, Tessa.”
I gulp, too afraid of the sound I might make if I open my mouth. “Mhmm.”
He comes closer still, each step slow and deliberate. “And we said we'd finish what we started earlier."
"Uh huh."
He tries—and fails—to smother a smile as he steps toe-to-toe with me. "Talk to me."
My throat rolls as my shoulders reach my ears and my head shakes side to side slowly. The fact that I'm acutely aware that not knowing what to say makes it look like I’m having a medical emergency… doesn't help.
"In case it wasn't painfully obvious, I'm much better at fixing other people's problems than my own."
Liam brushes his knuckles down my cheek, and my shoulders instantly drop, betraying me. "Maybe we don't need fixing."
I lean into his touch, a complete contradiction to what I'm about to say. "Liam, this is messy."
He sighs loudly—defeated—and drops his hand. "I know.” He turns away, his palm sliding down the back of his neck, rubbing at the spot just below his hairline. That pull we have to each other returns as I resist the urge to go to him, to comfort him.
Before I can give in, Liam whips back around.
"But what are the reasons again?" he asks, his voice exasperated. "Because something switched back on in me when you showed up at my doorstep, Tess. And I’ve tried to fight it, but I don’t want to anymore.” He closes the gap again, searching my face like he’s memorizing each feature.
“I—“ He empties his lungs. “I can’t remember why I did in the first place. "
My eyes dart to the floor—his gaze makes thinking nearly impossible. "You're my boss," I finally answer. I look up again. "And Ruthie needs to be the priority. If this didn't end well—"
"What else?" he presses, like he needs more excuses, needs me to say something that will convince him.
A tiny scoff sneaks out. "I mean, our dating lives are a little… wonky. I just got out of a relationship and…"
"And I haven't been in one for twelve years."
The sympathy on my face isn’t for his confession. It's for making him say it.
He nods once, then hangs his head between his arms, his hands now propped on his hips.
"Why is that?" I ask quickly, grabbing his forearm. His head lifts.
"Because I was focusing on Ruthie—and baseball." His eyes fall to his shoes, his jaw working. "But mostly I knew she deserved all my attention."
"Right."
"And because I wasn't going to set her up to lose someone… again." The last word is forced out like it was bitter on his tongue, and my hand slowly drifts off his arm as if the weight is suddenly too much.
"Yeah…" I say, my voice as shaky as I am, my stomach twisted. "See."
Liam's breath heaves, his eyes finding mine again with a devastating steadiness.
"But that was before I met you. And before that switch flipped in me and I realized I've been living in the past. Baseball is ending, and Ruthie…
she doesn't need me to protect her like I did before.
She's capable of more now—of handling more. And she wants me to find someone."
My breath hitches, caught on the way he says it. Not date. Or meet. Find someone.
It solidifies everything I’ve been thinking. Because this—us—is a decision that can’t be made lightly. Liam seeing someone isn't casual. Not to him and not to his daughter who is desperately hoping that her dad won’t wind up alone.
My fingers twist together, the desire to give in to what I want nearly impossible to continue fending off.
"That's a lot of pressure," I admit, a soft chuckle blanketing my honesty.
Liam reaches for my hand and loops his fingers through mine.
“I’d be lying if I said you were wrong. I get why you feel that way.
I’d be worried if you didn’t.” His thumb sweeps across my knuckles.
“Because in a sense, yeah—it is a lot. Whoever chooses me has to choose Ruthie too, and that comes with its own set of responsibilities. But I’m not asking you to fix our life, Tess.
That doesn’t need fixing either. I’m just telling you the truth. ”
His voice drops, steady and unguarded. “Which is that I finally fucking feel something. And I don't want to keep pretending that I don't."
I stare at him, his expression soft, his eyes glazed with a peace I haven't seen from him before.
It's almost as if he's been carrying this around, and just allowing him to say it has changed something for him.
Like even if I don't give in to whatever is happening between us, he's realized that he's still capable.
Of feeling, of wanting—of being someone besides a dad and a ballplayer.
"I don't want to pretend either," I mutter. He pulls his shoulders back slightly, preparing for impact. "But, Liam, this is so risky. The lines are already blurred... And once we cross them…" I wait for him to finish for me, but he doesn't—not out loud, at least.
"There's no going back," I continue instead.
Liam huffs out a quick laugh—almost disbelieving—as he hangs his head. I flinch, taken aback by his reaction, but when he lifts it again, his smile is gone.
"Tessa…" He slides his hands free from mine, but he doesn't back away. If anything, the space between us feels hotter. Heavier. His eyes hood slightly, and I still, every nerve in my body on edge.
He lifts one hand and brushes the pad of his thumb across my lips slowly, corner to corner.
I stay frozen. I couldn't move if I tried.
"I know what these taste like,” he says, his voice low and full of promise.
My mouth opens slightly—air suddenly hard to come by—as his fingers trail down the center of my chest. I arch into his touch before I can stop myself, and when they pause just above my nipple, I stop breathing completely.
“And I know what these feel like pressed against me." His fingertips drag over my peak, light but intoxicating.
I expel the breath I'd been holding, everything below my waistline tight and heavy with need.
Liam lifts his hand again, brushing my hair off my shoulder. His fingers graze my neck—intentional or not, I’m not sure—and the spark it ignites nearly buckles my knees.
“And I know what you sound like when you’re touching yourself…"
His hand drops back to his side, leaving me desperate for him to put it back on me. To touch me anywhere.
He gives me a single, steady look. “I think it’s safe to say I’m already screwed.”
"So, what?" I ask, my voice needy, my body begging for him. "We just ignore the risk and hope things work out?"
Liam inhales deeply, his lips turning down almost amused. "It's how I got here."
My brow furrows. "What do you mean?"
"With Ruthie and baseball." He tucks his hands into his pockets. "I didn't plan any of it. Not really. I just… jumped. I trusted how I felt. In some ways, that's how the two best things in my life happened. How they've stayed this good for so long."
His words land like a brick in my chest.
He steps closer still. "Listen," he says, running his palms down my arms. "I'm not saying we throw ourselves off a cliff recklessly. But I also don't want to lose what feels…" His jaw ticks as his fingertips slide to the sensitive skin at the pulse in my wrist. "Undeniable."
"So… you want to try."
He tips his chin down like it's the easiest decision he's made all day. "I do. Despite the risk. Despite the lines."
I swallow, overwhelmed by it all.
"Okay," I say suddenly, more sure than I thought was possible—surprising even myself.
He gasps quietly, his breath floating past my cheek. "Okay?"
I nod, and he slams his lips to mine. It's eager at first as if his relief is physically leaving his body. But when I open for him, he rolls his tongue over mine slowly—savoring the hope that replaces it.
I relish in the brief moment of contentment before ripping my mouth off of his.
"But we need to go slow," I insist, my breath heavy.
"Yeah," Liam nods, before pecking my lips again. "As slow as you want."
We intertwine again, his hands weeding into my hair and mine wrapping around his neck.
"And I don't think we should tell Ruthie."
He stiffens slightly, his jaw tight. Still, he agrees. "Then we won't."
There's a hesitation that wasn't there before, and I realize how he took that. The way it sounded.
"But I don't want to lie to her either." His shoulders relax as he searches my face. "If she asks or finds out somehow—we tell her the truth."
That's all it takes for him to reach for me, sliding his hands around my waist and pulling me flush against him. I attempt to ignore the fact that he's hard between us, but my hips press involuntarily to his.
Liam's breath stutters. He drags his bottom lip between his teeth at the pressure, but his eyes don't waver from mine.
"I agree," he admits, his voice thick. "She doesn't need to know everything up front—I wouldn't tell her right away if it was someone else anyway.
" His hands tighten on my hips. "But I've never lied to her about anything. "
"I don't want us to be something anyone has to tip-toe around," I say. "I just… I want to give us time."
"I get it," he reassures, sinking his hand past my cheek. "We'll take it slow." I exhale, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, and he hums. "With her and with us."
We seal it with a soft kiss that quickly turns heavy.
I whimper my need into him, and he bucks his hips at the sound. My nipples peak beneath my shirt, and when I brush them against him searching for friction, he growls.
"How slow are we going again?" he asks, barely pulling back.
"I didn't really think that part through," I pant.
Liam kisses me one more time—hard and devastating. The type of kiss that stays with you. That taunts you long after it's ended.
"Okay," he breathes, exhaling slowly. "I, um—yeah. Okay." He drags his hand behind his head, his eyes sinking shut. "You should, uh… unpack."
"Liam…" My tone is as desperate as I feel.
"No, you're right. We should go slow." He turns away, but not before I see the corners of his lips turn up slightly.
"You're mean."
He shakes his head, standing in my doorframe with tousled hair, red cheeks, and an undeniable bulge beneath his belt. "I'm listening," he says confidently.
He turns to leave as my mouth hangs open and my leggings sit soaked at the apex of my thighs.
"Oh but, Tessa…" Liam looks over his shoulder, one foot already in the hallway, and I snap to attention. "Just know—tonight… I'll be thinking about you."