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My eyes go back to watching her as she looks through her iPod selection. Once she’s settled on a song, she leans back, still oblivious to my rampant sexual desire. Her gaze flicks up, she looks a little tired, but surprisingly happy. Much better than when I first walked into her suite.
“Are you ready to hear what I picked?” She smirks.
“Will I know it?” I take a small sip of my beer.
“Oh…” she practically purrs. My dick goes hard again. The sound she just made makes me think of what it would feel like to have her lips wrapped around my cock while she makes it.
“You’ll know the song,” she finishes.
I cross my leg, putting my right ankle on my knee. It didn’t do much to hide my hard-on, but it’s better than nothing. She presses play on her iPod, then leans back. Her nipples are hard, which makes me think she’s aware of what she’s doing to me. Or maybe she’s just a little cold. My bad judgment hopes it’s the former… even though it’s hot outside.
Music fills the air and warmth fills me from head to toe at the familiar notes. “American Pie, Pt. 1” by Don McLean plays. I tip my beer to her. A great song choice, and one that holds many memories.
“Remember when we used to play this on your dad’s old record player?”
As if I could forget.
“Those were simpler times,” is all I manage to say. Sitting here with Birdie, listening to this song is doing things to me.
I shift in my seat again and this time it doesn’t go unnoticed by Birdie. She can tell my demeanor has changed. She leans forward and puts her hands on her knees.
“Does being here with me make you upset, Liam?”
I chuckle. “You cut right to the point, don’t you?”
She shrugs. “If I said I wanted to talk about what happened ten years ago, would you?”
I swallow, my throat feeling as if it’s about to close up. “Why do you want to talk about it, Birdie? Can’t we just leave it in the past? We’re very different people now.”
She drums her plum-colored nails on her beer can. “I know, but I need to ask you a question.”
“Birdie—”
“Please, Liam?” She begs, her green- and gold-flecked eyes locked on mine.
I run my hands through my hair.Fuck it. I chug the rest of my beer. I’m going to need liquid courage if we’re doing this conversation.
nineteen
Liam
Birdie'svoiceissteadywhen she says, “That night when we talked online. Why did you say it?”
My stomach knots as I lean back in my chair. Now I’m wishing we were in the air-conditioned suite instead of on this hot balcony. My skin is crawling, and my shirt is getting sticky with sweat. “American Pie” is still playing softly from the speakers and Don McLean’s voice sings soulfully around us.
I let out a breathy sound. “Why does it matter now?” Birdie blinks rapidly at me, then to my surprise, tears spring to her eyes.Damnit. “Birdie…”
“It matters to me, Liam. Shouldn’t that be enough?”
I pick at the tab of my beer can. “It’s complicated...” My eyes dart to the sky and I pray for some type of strength. Birdie’s warm hand appears on my knee, and she squeezes my jean clad leg. When my eyes meet hers again, I’m surprised they don’t show any anger.
“Just tell me. Whatever it is, I can handle it. I’m not the girl I was all those years ago.”
I smile at that and place my hand over hers, giving it a squeeze. “I know.”
All too soon she removes her hand and leans back. My body hurts at the loss.
“Then please…,” she says quietly, “for me. Just tell me why. I’ve spent way too long wondering, even after all these years. I lied when I told that reporter it didn’t matter anymore. Your words, they still haunt me whether I want them to or not.”
