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A song, another Radiohead, rang out from the speakers—“Talk Show Host.” Tension pounded in the air between them. Sadie could feel it on her skin, she could feel it in her blood, and she could feel it in between her legs. Finally, he spoke, putting her out of her misery.
“Okay.” The word came out deep and strained, but he still wasn’t looking at her.
“C’mon,” she said lightly, reaching down to unbuckle her seat belt.
Without thinking too much about where she expected this to lead, Sadie opened her car door and swung her legs out onto the icy ground. The parking lot and path to her first-floor apartment was thick with snow, but Sadie felt like she was floating as she walked carefully over its surface.
It was one of those nights following a day of new snow in which the world glowed in an almost ethereal way. The low, gray clouds were bright in the sky, and the snowdrifts seemed to leave the world alight with a bright white glow.
With one arm wrapped around the trifle bowl, she used her other arm to push her key into the lock and open her front door. Her free hand went to the inside wall to feel around for the light switch, but once her hand hit it, she froze, changing her mind.
Instead of switching on the bright overhead light, she walked into her dark living room, setting the bowl on the coffee table before walking over to the corner and switching on a tall tripod lamp.
The light cast a dim glow over her small living room—there wasn’t much to it: an overstuffed white couch pushed against one wall and a rustic coffee table between it and her TV. She found that the simple set up served her lifestyle quite well.
She hadn’t looked back at Liam once since she got out of the car, but she turned around now to see him standing in the doorway still, staring at her warily.
“Come on in,” she said, waving him toward her.
He walked into her small living room and closed the door behind him, looking curiously at the room as if he was searching for some kind of meaning in it.
Not moving her eyes from him, she methodically went through the motions of taking off her outerwear: yanking her gloves off her hands roughly and unbuttoning her coat before throwing everything down on one of her dining chairs.
“Go ahead and sit down,” she said, tilting her head toward the couch, swiftly picking up the trifle dish and walking with it toward the kitchen just off the living room.
He’s nervous, Sadie realized, looking up at him over the breakfast bar. He’d taken his coat off, too, throwing it on top of hers, and was now in the process of sitting on the couch, his eyes darting around the room curiously.
Sadie wasn’t nervous. She wasexcited. She felt the familiar rise she always got right before a challenge. Whether it was a high school volleyball game against a team that everyone said couldn’t be beat, or a student who was struggling with reading, Sadie liked it when the odds were against her—it made the win all the sweeter.
Quickly, she filled two bowls with trifle and poured two glasses of red wine from the bottle on her counter that she’d started last night while watchingFriendsand contemplating pumpkin-based desserts.
She set the bowls and glasses on the breakfast bar and came out of the kitchen to shepherd them to her coffee table. He watched her and didn’t offer to help, which she didn’t mind—it would have just added awkwardness to an already kind of weird situation if they’d been forced to walk back and forth together, bumping into each other.
Finally, she sank down on the couch next to him, nudging his bowl forward on the coffee table. He looked down at it before picking it up and lifting a spoon of whipped cream and pumpkin to his mouth.
“Do you like it?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah,” he said roughly. “Yeah, I do.” He let the spoon fall into the bowl, though, and set it on the table again, not taking his eyes off her.
He continued watching her as she picked up her spoon and brought it up to her mouth. Her eyes connected with his as she put the spoon in her mouth, licking every bit of dessert off it before putting it back down in the bowl.
“Do you like red wine?” she asked, picking up her glass and taking a sip. “If not, I think I have some bee—”
She didn’t get a chance to finish her question, cut off by his body jolting toward hers, his lips pressing against the side of her mouth awkwardly. The red wine sloshed in her glass, and she thought frantically of her white couch for a half a second before clumsily feeling around for the table and setting the glass on the safety of its surface.
Now that she’d rid herself of the glass, she relaxed into his kiss. It hadn’t started off very suave, but that was kind of what she liked about it. He’d just lunged at her like he couldn’t help himself. It was clumsy and messy …real, not so smooth that she hardly knew what was happening. Not like Tyler—don’t think about him.
Re-focusing on the feeling of Liam’s lips on her, she noticed that he tasted sweet, like whipped cream. His actions were anything but sweet, though. Now that she’d processed her surprise, it was easier to absorb some of the intensity that he was throwing at her, to relax into the heavy emotions that he seemed to be carrying around.
She didn’t feel overwhelmed by his intensity, though; it was rather nice, actually. Maybe he’d been thinking about this for a long time, just like she had.
Leaning back further on the couch to give him better access, she pulled him toward her by the collar of his shirt while she lifted her legs to cradle his waist.
She buried her fingers into his hair, weaving them lightly into the dark, wavy strands. He placed his hand at her waist, and it traveled slowly upward, tantalizingly close to the edge of her bra. She moaned at the sensation, arching into his touch.
The sound seemed to wake him as he pulled his hand away like it was burned, and he looked down at her. “Sadie,” he said, sounding out of breath. “I know we shouldn’t do this, and there’s something—”
Reaching up, she covered his mouth with her hand. His eyes were so full ofsomething, but she didn’t know what. Maybe worry about what work would be like if they did this? She just couldn’t get herself too bothered about that, though. At this point, not only had they kissed, but he was lying between her legs. She could feel him hard, ready, and pressing down on her. Work would already be weird either way—they might as well finish what they’d started.
