The Do Over (17 page)

After he asked for the check, he turned to face me. "Are you feeling better?"

I shook my head. I didn't want to lie to him again, but I couldn't talk to him either. What we had was too good to be true, so it had to be doomed. Rick had been pure dysfunction, and that hadn't worked out. Liam was flawless perfection, so it was only a matter of time before it ended.
Then what? I don't like cats.

"Baby, look at me. What's the matter?" he asked.

I couldn't hold his gaze. My heart ached. I had too much to lose.

He settled the bill and took my hand. Although I was ruining this wonderful evening, he was being amazingly patient with me. He held my hand as we waited for the valet to bring his car around.

I wanted to run away, but at the same time, I wanted to be in his arms. Without my having to say anything, I wanted him to reassure me that he wouldn't hurt me. I leaned into his arm, and he held me.

"Talk to me," he urged.

"I can't," I whispered.

The valet brought the car to the curb and opened the door for me. I slid into the seat, as Liam walked around and sat down. "Don't shut me out."

"I just can't," I mumbled.

As we pulled out, Liam reached his hand over to me. I slipped my hand in his, lacing our hands together.

The drive home was silent. I stared out the passenger window, watching the streetlights pass in a blur.

Liam hadn't given me a reason to doubt him, but neither had Rick when we'd first met. I'd dated a little. It wasn't like I was a nun or anything like that. I hadn't had more than a date or two with anyone in particular. I just couldn't let myself go there, and frankly, no one had seemed worth the trouble. Liam was the first man that I'd gotten close to. I barely knew him, but I was already falling in love. Rick's presence during lunch had reminded me how quickly that could turn. Maybe running into him had been a sign that I was headed down the same path again.
Liam isn't Rick. Maybe he's worse.
I had no proof, but my insecurities were quickly unraveling into self-pity.

Liam didn't make any further attempts to talk to me. I glanced at him to see his jaw was stiff. For all I knew, he was thinking of the best way to let me down easily, or maybe he would be cruel and just blow me off. He was still holding my hand, but that could be his attempt to throw me off. At the first sign of trouble, Liam would bail. He was great, but he didn't need to deal with my bullshit. He was good-looking, fun-loving, tenderhearted, and sexy as hell. He could have anyone. He was probably thinking of all his options. My heart hurt at the thought that he would move on.

As we pulled up to my house, I was prepared for him to leave the car running. Instead, he turned off the engine and swiveled his body toward me. I hoped he wasn't going to be sadistic.

"Are you going to talk to me?" His voice was soft, almost pained.

As I stared out the windshield, I wondered if I should plant some flowers under the window. I wanted to think about anything other than what was about to happen.

"I don't know what to say or how to say it." That was as honest as I could get.

He still hadn't let go of my hand. With our hands connected, I didn't know where his began and my ended. When he pulled away, the moment changed. He got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side as I pulled out my keys. He opened the car door, being the gentleman he was, and of course, I thought this was malicious on his part. He was torturing me with kindness.

I opened the front door, and he followed me inside. Then, all hell broke loose. He pulled me into an embrace. Looking down at me, he kissed me. At first, it was gentle and soft, but it escalated into passionate and intense. Pulling away, he stepped back.

Spellbound by his gaze, I trusted and longed for him.

He cupped my face. "What's going on with you?"

Closing my eyes, I hoped that everything would magically right itself. When I opened my eyes, that questioning expression was still on his face. I did the only thing I knew. Losing myself, I kissed him with everything I had, and he reciprocated. The passion between us became unbearable. I wanted him. I needed him. My emotions were erratic. My heart beat for him while fear coursed through my veins.

I took off his jacket. My fingers swiftly untucked his shirt. His hands gently remained fixed on my face as mine traveled under his shirt, feeling his taut muscles. I tried to lead him to my bedroom, but he resisted.

"You need to talk to me."

I distracted him with kisses.

He pushed me off of him. "Not like this."

I turned away from him, feeling rejected. "You don't want me?" I asked, my voice shaking. My heart sank as the despair fueling my insanity went into overdrive.

He reached for me. "Don't even go there. You have no idea how much I want you." Again, he asked me, "What happened? Talk to me for Christ's sake."

"Fine, but you aren't going to like it." My voice and heart were defeated and frustrated. Stepping away, I leaned against the back of the couch and turned to face him again. "I ran into my ex today, and it's fucked with my head," I blurted out.

His expression shifted from concern to either hurt or jealousy. Maybe it was both. His jaw tensed. He hadn't expected that admission. This wasn't going to be good.

"Don't you think that we should talk about that?" he asked, crossing his arms.

I knew the answer to that one. "No," I responded quickly. After the tenth time he'd asked me, I thought it had been evident that I didn't want to talk about it.

He cocked his head to the side, narrowing his stare. "Do you want to be with him?"

"No. He's a selfish asshole. It's just all the other stuff." I waved my hands around.

"What's the other stuff?" he asked calmly as he waved his hands in a less animated fashion.

Glowing a dark orange, the room was lit by a small table lamp near the door. I preferred to hide in the dark. "I don't want to talk about it."

"We don't always get to do what we want. Sometimes you do it because you need to," he said, taking control.

I could tell his patience was running very thin. His body language changed as he rubbed his neck and leaned his head back. I wasn't making this easy, but he didn't understand. He started pacing in the small area of my living room. I was probably making it much worse, but I couldn't stop. Like riding a runaway train, I was convinced that I was living the self-fulfilling prophecy. Liam was done with me. This was it. That thought frightened me to my core.

"Please…" I paused and moved closer to him. "Hold me."

I wanted to feel his embrace. He wrapped me in his arms and kissed my head. When I looked up at him, he held my stare. Pushing up on my tiptoes, my lips skimmed his.

"I'm having an internal battle right now," he said, taking a step away from me, "between giving you what you need and…"

Before he could finish, I pulled back defensively. "Or walking out that door," I snapped at him, pointing to the front door.

I braced myself for his response. I had a bottle of wine, some Häagen-Dazs, and cookie dough primed for the post-dumping recovery binge.
This is it.
I thought I'd given him his out.

Instead, he was angry. "What the fuck are you talking about?" He asked, raising his voice as he furrowed his brow. He paused, rubbing his temple. "Do you really think I want to walk out that door?"

I wasn't about to be yelled at in my own home, so I stood my ground. "It's what they all do!" I shouted. "And this is my house, so don't scream at me. In fact, don't ever raise your voice at me."

He leaned against the counter, bracing himself, as he shook his head. "I'm not all of them. I get that you've been screwed over by assholes. I get it. Have I done anything at all to make you think I'm like them?" he asked, keeping his voice down and controlled. His jaw clenched.

"I know you're not them!" I paced the tiny room. "You think you get it, but you don't. You don't get what you mean to me or how much I care. You don't get how scared I am to get hurt again. So, no, you just don't get it."

As he looked at me incredulously, I thought he was going to sprout another head.

"I don't get it?" he asked with blazing eyes. "Really? I don't get it? First of all, how do you know I won't get it if you won't even talk me? Second of all, don't assume that I'm oblivious to your feelings. Do you even know what
you
mean to
me
? Do you have any idea how much I care about you? Do you have an inkling of an idea of how much I think about you or how much I want to be with you? Do
you
get that at all?"

I couldn't hold back the tears. As I stood in the darkened room, Liam paced, stopped, looked up at the ceiling, and then paced some more. He went from running his hands through his hair to holding the bridge of his nose.

He stopped pacing. "I wasn't battling with
that
door," he said, pointing to the front door, "but with
that
one." He pointed toward my bedroom. He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh.

"I care about you too much," I whimpered. "I'm too vulnerable, and that scares me to death."

He came up to me, tilted up my face, and then pressed his lips against mine. "Baby, you're everything to me. You have no idea how much I want you. I'm not going anywhere." He held me tight. "I'm sorry I lost my temper."

When he kissed me sweetly, my body sank into his arms.

I pulled back slightly. "You have nothing to be sorry about. I ruined our evening. I hate that seeing my ex brought my insecurities to the surface. I started thinking of all the worst-case scenarios. I thought you were planning our breakup in the car and being very evil and sadistic about it. I'm sorry for everything."

"When did you think I was being evil and sadistic?" he asked.

"When I was orchestrating your breakup with me."

"You seriously thought I was going to break up with you?"

"As serious as a heart attack."

"It's a good thing I know CPR," he said, dragging me closer to him.

"I'm so sorry." As tears welled in my eyes, I sank into his chest and tightened my hold around him.
Liam is not Rick. Liam is Liam.

He rubbed circles on my back. "We're good."

"I hate when I get scared. I become this crazy person that I don't like. How can you like me if I can't stand myself right now? I honestly don't know why you're still here." I looked up for reassurance.

"I'm so crazy about you," he said, smiling softly. "Do you believe me?"

"Yes," I mumbled, nodding my head.

"I have no control over the past. I want a chance to show you that you can trust me. I won't hurt you, at least not on purpose. I'll probably do stupid shit, but I'm not an asshole, and I have no plans on becoming one."

"I know you're not an asshole. That's what makes you even more lethal."

He stroked my face with the back of his hand. "You are cute when you're being dramatic. So, what happened today?"

"I was sitting at the table, getting ready to read, when he showed up out of the blue. It was surreal. It was like all the hurt resurfaced, and my heart broke all over again. I told him to leave, and he did. He looked sad, and that made me mad. Then, I thought about how great everything is between us, and I panicked."

"I'm sorry that you had to go through that." He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Honestly, I don't want to hear about old boyfriends, but I do want to know when something hurts you. You can talk to me, and I'll listen to you. You're not alone."

Absorbing his words, I put my head against his chest. I wasn't alone.
Liam is Liam.

With the evening being emotional and draining, a yawn escaped me.

"Someone's tired." He kissed the top of my head. "I should get going."

I craved his comfort. He hadn't stayed over yet, but I didn't want him to leave. "Please stay." My arms tightened around him. "I don't want to let you go."

I took his hand and led him toward my room. Stopping in front of the door, his gaze met mine, transfixed. His eyes glanced at my mouth. My lips parted as my eyes closed in response. When his mouth met mine, his tongue slid along my lower lip. I wrapped my arms around his neck and ran my hands through his hair. He pulled me in closer, deepening the kiss. My hands slid down, my fingers lightly caressing his face. He leaned into my touch.

As much as I wanted him, I was nervous. It'd been so long.

He sensed my apprehension. "I'm only going to hold you tonight," he said in a seductively husky voice.

My breathing shallowed while my heart fluttered.

He leaned in and softly kissed me again with his hands on the sides of my face. "I'm going to show you what you mean to me."

When his lips brushed my ear, I moaned softly.

"I'm going to prove to you who I am."

As he kissed my neck, my heart welled up and overflowed. When a tear escaped my eye, he wiped it away with his thumb. While he tucked my hair behind my ears, our eyes locked, his eyes penetrating to the depths of my soul. I'd never felt
this
before. This wasn't about sex. This was unbridled passion.

He kept his eyes fixed on mine as his hands slid under the hem of my shirt. The sensation of his touch against my bare skin sent shivers throughout my body. After he pulled off my top, he kissed me while his hands carefully explored my body, his touch gentle and sensual.

"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he said, his eyes admiring me.

After I helped him take off his shirt, my hands moved across his chiseled chest. He walked me toward the bed and laid me back on it. Holding my hands over my head, he trailed kisses along my exposed neck and across my collarbone.

He kneeled at the side of the bed and pulled off my boots. As he kneaded my feet, his movements tender, my senses went on overload. When he looked up, his eyes and the expression on his face embraced my heart.

"The first time I looked into your eyes, I wanted to comfort you and hold you," he said as he positioned himself over me.

He eased off my skinny jeans. "When we watched the sunrise, I knew I wasn't going to let you go." He trailed kisses down my legs.