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“What? What did I do?” Shit. Did I kiss him and not remember? No.
“You didn’t do anything, but let’s just say I know who your favourite band member is.”
The memory of the conversation filters in—how I practically threw myself at Liam and told him about my crush. Is that what he’s taking advantage of and the reason for the games and the kisses?
“Ego, much?” I snap.
“Hey, I’m kidding. Why so uptight again?”
“You don’t understand. This is mine and Ella’s reality, Liam. You can come here, play in the snow, then fly back to your life of the rich and famous but our life isn’t like that. Don’t do this to Ella.” Or me.
“Do what? Have fun? Make her smile? Hell, I might even make you smile again if you let me.”
“I don’t have much to smile about, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
I turn toward the house and Liam grabs my gloved hand, holding tight. “Relax. Enjoy Christmas, even if only for Ella.”
I swallow hard. “You don’t understand.”
“I do, you’re hurt. So am I, remember? And no, I won’t play games with you. But I also won’t keep away from someone who makes me forget the hurt I left in the States.”
I lift my eyes to his, to the honesty in his face and the hidden pain I know touches on mine.
“Just don’t make her want you around when you’ll leave and break her heart,” I say quietly, and we both know that I’m not talking about Ella.
* * *
Ella’s attachmentto Liam matches the unhealthy one I’m developing because when he’s not around at her bed time, she’s grumpy and refuses to go to bed until she sees him. Maybe we’re both genetically programmed to fall in love with him. I shake myself. Fall in love? The teen crush I had on Liam lingers, and kissing him really didn’t help. Eventually, Ella realises that pouting won’t bring Liam to her, so she stomps upstairs to bed. I’m sure she picks the longest book possible for me to read to delay her bedtime. After slogging through the never-ending tale about princesses and fairies, I trudge back downstairs to find Louise in her favourites blue dress, and face made-up ready for a night out.
“You coming?” she asks.
“Um. I’m not ready.” I indicate my scruffy, checked pyjama pants and grey sweatshirt.
“I’ll wait for you. I’m meeting Connor and he’s bringing some friends.”
“Trying to set me up?” I ask and think ‘with someone who isn’t your brother’. “No, I asked your parents to babysit only the other night, I can’t ask again.”
“She’s asleep and won’t be any trouble. Come on!” Louise gives me a small push toward the stairs.
Liam walks into the kitchen and heads to the fridge for a beer. He’s barefoot in dark denim and a Blue Phoenix T-shirt that stretches across his tattoo-covered biceps. Another of the weird moments passes between us—the kind that blanks the world around, an unspoken understanding that we’re fighting something.
“You going out, Lou?” he asks.
“Just with Connor and some friends.”
“Ah, cool, I’ll get my coat. Are you coming, Cerys?”
Louise flicks a look between me and Liam, opening her mouth to protest.
“Um. I’m not sure,” I reply.
“Mum!” yells Liam into the lounge room behind him. “You okay to listen out for Ella for a couple of hours? We’re going to the pub.”
Now I’m the one about to protest and Liam winks at me. Oh no. Linda will say yes. She does.Crap.
“Cool. Are you ready or changing first?” Liam asks me.
I looked down at my mismatched ensemble. “What do you think?”
“Yes?” There’s a teasing glint to his eye and I have a sudden inclination to leave the house as I am.
“I’ll change but I don’t think I’ll reach your standards of women,” I say, remembering my earlier conversation with Louise.
I leave the kitchen but don’t miss Liam’s surprised look.
