Chapter 29
Emma
Iwas floating on a cloud of happiness the next day as I deep-cleaned the bathroom and washed the bedding. Thankfully the food poisoning had only lasted that one night, and I’d been on the mend ever since. Yesterday was a blur of kissing Liam, watching movies on the couch like old times, and sneaking looks at him when he wasn’t looking.
I didn’t know what was happening between us, but happiness coursed through my veins like an IV of caffeine. We had created a little bubble with just the two of us, and neither one of us appeared to want to break it.
At least until this morning when Liam had to leave for a meeting with Bridget. I took advantage of the alone time to pick up around the townhouse and deep-clean every surface that reminded me of throwing up. A glance at my watch told me it was well after noon, and the fierce growl of my stomach confirmed the fact. Throwing the cleaning supplies into the bathroom closet, I wiped my hands on my pants.
There, much better. Time for some food.
Walking back into the bedroom, I changed out of my cleaning clothes, threw on a tank top, and leggings and headed for the kitchen. That’s when I spotted the two tickets sitting on the dresser. That weather exhibit was coming up soon—the one Jameson and Mom had gotten me tickets to for Christmas. In the chaos of the wedding, the gig, and then the whirlwind of the last couple days, I’d almost forgotten about it.
Maya liked to call it a nerd convention, but it was actually super cool. It would have all the newest and greatest instruments and gear for storm chasing, plus lots of panels about the latest research on severe weather and tornadoes. It was a weather-lover’s dream. I had wanted to attend for years, but the tickets were always out of my budget, and if they hadn’t been gifted to me, I never would have been able to afford them—especially not after losing my internship.
I had put it out of my mind for months because I had been hoping by the time it came around, maybe I’d have someone to bring with me. I never imagined this was where I’d be though.
Snatching the tickets, I went downstairs to make lunch, freezing on the bottom step when I noticed that Liam was back. He was sitting on the couch, a notebook in hand. Was he writing a song? My heart did a little skip at the thought. I’d always loved Liam’s music, even if it ended up taking him away from me. He didn’t look up when I came down, so he must’ve really been into whatever he was working on.
Not wanting to interrupt, I opened the fridge and pulled out a package of tortillas and some cheese. Cheese quesadillas—a lunch of champions. I snorted at myself.
“Something funny?”
I flinched, looking up to find Liam watching me over the back of the couch. His mouth was tilted into a smirk.
Flustered by the way he was looking at me, I stubbed my toe on the island and started hopping around, muttering curses under my breath.
“Nope,” I ground out through the pain. “Just snorting at myself.”
Liam closed his notebook and stood, crossing the living room to stand in front of me. The distance he left between us was definitely not in the friend zone. His toes touched mine, and he was firmly in my personal space.
Space? Who needs space?
“Were you working on a new song?” I dared to ask, nodding my head toward the couch.
Liam’s mouth lifted into a half-smile. “Yeah, the words have really been flowing since coming back here.”
Was it me or was he getting closer? Would he kiss me again? Or had we burst that little bubble when he left the house this morning? Was it like a balloon released on the wind? Here one minute and then gone the next?
“I can’t wait to hear it,” I said, though the thought of Bridget reminded me where he’d been all morning. “How’d your meeting go?” I asked, trying to calm the galloping of my heart at his proximity.
He winced and took a step back. I breathed out a silent sigh, internally annoyed at myself for being disappointed that he didn’t kiss me.
“Bridget isn’t very happy with my behavior the other night. Apparently, I broke a lot of her rules and made her job infinitely harder.” Liam rubbed the back of his neck. “And I might have called the venue and…chewed them out for giving you bad fish.”
I gaped at him, watching his cheeks turn pink.
“Why would you do that?”
“Because I hated seeing you sick like that,” he admitted. “They needed to be held accountable for giving you bad fish.”
I tried—so hard—not to swoon at his defense of me. But I couldn’t help it. I swayed toward him—just a little—and his hands gripped my arms, holding me steady. Liam’s skin on mine elicited goosebumps all over me.
Liam cleared his throat, his thumbs trailing fire over my arms before he stepped backward. I used the space to return to the task at hand—making a quesadilla—before I succumbed to my desire to kiss him again.
“Bridget is worrying for nothing though. The latest tabloids have painted me in a new light, a better one—and it’s all thanks to you.”
His eyes were full of warmth as he looked at me.
“I’d say our little marriage scheme is working.”
At the reminder that this was a scheme—fake—my stomach dropped, and I suddenly was no longer hungry. I stopped grating cheese onto the tortilla.
“Good,” I said, trying to plaster a smile on my face. “That’s great.”
I felt Liam’s stare watching me carefully, but I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t know what would come out of my mouth under the power of his gaze. Especially not after everything that had happened between us.
He opened his mouth, but I turned away, not entirely sure I wanted to hear what he was going to say. I couldn’t handle the thought of him saying it was all fake, that it meant nothing to him. I gingerly lifted the tortilla and set it in the skillet, swirling it around until it was coated in melted butter.
“Do you want a quesadilla?” I blurted. “It’s the best cooked in butter.” I continued rambling, pointing at the pan repeatedly.
Liam cocked his head, clearly confused, but didn’t question my insanity.
“I ate when you were upstairs singing along to Backstreet Boys,” he said, and my cheeks burst into flames.
He was home?!
Liam chuckled at the look on my face.
“I didn’t know you were home,” I said quietly, unable to look him in the eye. Backstreet Boys was my guilty pleasure, especially when I needed to pump myself up to get some cleaning done. I definitely wouldn’t have been belting at the top of my lungs if I had known he was just downstairs, trying to work on his own music.
“It was cute, Em,” he said with a smile, letting one of his fingers draw a line of goosebumps down my arm. “I like hearing you sing.”
“You like listening to a beaver scream?”
Liam blinked at me several times before he burst out laughing. His entire body shook from the force of it, his face a bright shade of red. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him laugh that hard and a surge of satisfaction went through me that I had caused it.
I flipped my quesadilla to the other side, smiling to myself.
Then I suddenly found myself facing Liam’s chest as he pulled me in for an unexpected hug.
“I’ll take you, beaver screaming and all,” he said with a chuckle. Then he pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
He kissed my head!
I swear I felt it all the way down to my toes. I couldn’t even be offended that Liam hadn’t denied that my singing was akin to that screaming beaver. I was on cloud nine being wrapped up in his arms, in the comforting scent of his cologne.
At least until the smell of burned cheese filled the air.
“I think your food is well done,” Liam commented with a laugh, nodding behind me where the tortilla was indeed smoking.
Cheeks burning, I raced to turn off the burner. The tortilla was black, most of the cheese having oozed out and burned onto the pan.
“Dang it,” I muttered and heard Liam snort. I dumped the food in the garbage, my appetite gone after the simple way he’d held me in his arms. I could live off Liam’s affection, no other sustenance needed. Slumping against the counter, I gave him a sheepish grin.
“How about I take you out instead?” Liam said, an easy smile on his face.
Take me out? Like…a date?
We had barely left the house, and I assumed it was because Liam didn’t want to be seen in public with me, or that he wanted to avoid paparazzi—though I hadn’t even seen a hint of them the few times I’d gone into town.
Liam had proven to be a homebody, where he could be comfortable and not have to put on a facade. We’d ordered takeout a few times when neither one of us felt like cooking, but outside of the gig that resulted in me puking my guts up, we hadn’t actually gone out in public to eat since the day we said I do.
The thought of going out with him, whether he thought of it as a date or not, lit me up like a lightning strike.
My face must have had my excitement written all over it because he held a hand out to me. “Come on, let’s get some food in you before you really become a screaming beaver.”