Liam arrives back from the bar with a tray of drinks and sets down my vodka and tonic in front of me.
“Aren’t you worried about being spotted?” I ask, taking a sip.
He shrugs off his leather jacket and shoves it under the table. “In St Davids? Unless I’ve done something controversial, the paparazzi will stay away. To everyone else, I’m old news.” His panic over our appearance in public the other day remains unmentioned.
I’m distracted by his proximity, the warmth and scent of him intensifies the dizzy memory from when he held and kissed me. I stare at his mouth. Liam notices and another look passes between us, the kind holding the promise of a kiss. Does he remember the last time we came here all those years ago?
Louise begins the evening positioned between us, steering conversations toward his Blue Phoenix life. Liam gives short answers; I get he’s immersing himself in this life instead, and I’m irritated by her. Following her reaction in the kitchen the other day, I suspect this is Louise trying to stop me making a mistake. Liam, as her big brother, makes his displeasure clear with a couple of snide comments and in the end, Lou huffs and moves to sit with her boyfriend, Connor.
“Little sisters...” he mutters and drinks. I don’t have any brothers or sisters so I can’t sympathise.
“I’m sure you miss her when you’re away.”
“Yeah, sometimes. It would be nice to be able to get home more. I wish I could hang around here longer than a week.”
Home. St Davids isn’t his home any more than it is mine now. “So you’re not looking forward to touring again after Christmas?”
Liam screws his face up then places his hand on the table next to mine, the edge of our fingers touch but not enough for anyone to notice the intimacy of his gesture. “Can we not talk about that? I’m here to have my Welsh Christmas.”
“Okay. Sorry.”
I pick my glass up and take a long drink. We lapse into silence and my glass empties due to nervous drinking.
“Hey, Liam, where’s your hot girlfriend?” calls Lee from across the table.
Instantly, I drag my hand away and scrunch my fingers around my jumper. Liam says in a neutral tone, “La-la land.”
“What?”
“LA, stupid,” says Louise and pushes Lee. “Though I reckon she’s in la-la land, too.”
“Don’t you like her, Louise?” Liam says icily. “Why don’t you just say?”
“I told you I don’t.” Louise’s face is flushed and she’d had a couple of glasses of wine before we left. Alcohol and sibling squabbles. Great. “I don’t trust her.”
Liam drains his glass. “Anyone want another?”
“Cerys said you’d broken off the engagement,” continues Louise. “Is that true? Or were you just saying that to get what you want?”
Liam’s hand tightens around his empty glass. “Did you?” he asks me in a low voice.
“I didn’t realise. Sorry.”
“Great,” he mutters. “Now the whole world will know.”
The friends are chatting, only Louise and Lee are paying attention to the conversation. “Sorry,” I repeat.
Liam stands. “Same again?”
I nod and my stomach knots at his shift in attitude, I’ve pissed him off. I didn’t realise he’d confided in me and isn’t it his sister’s fault for opening her big mouth too?
When he returns, he sits a little further from me, and a prickly heat of disappointment travels across my back. Why did I expect attention from this man? The knowledge in his eyes that things could go further than stolen kisses was imagined. He’s just had a kick back to reality, and so have I.
We sit quietly for a while as the group around us gets louder. The more awkward this gets, the quicker my glass empties. I should’ve stayed at what counts as my home currently.
“I should’ve stayed at home,” remarks Liam.
I look up. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Oh? Didn’t you want me here?”
“No, I meant me. I don’t fit here.”
Liam laughs. “Neither do I. I never did before, and I still don’t now.”
“What do you think you’d have done if Blue Phoenix hadn’t got so successful? I can’t imagine you sticking around here.”
“Dunno. Maybe been a mechanic like Dad.”
“I could picture that,” I say.
“What? Scruffy and covered in oil?”
“You always were scruffy and in need of a shower.”
“Cheeky! I was a teenage boy. Plus I had my up and coming rock star image to maintain.” The teasing smile Liam has returns.
I bite my tongue away from commenting how that same image is now hot as hell, but I expect he knows. A Californian actress certainly does. It’s killing me not to ask about her, but revisiting that subject is a bad idea judging by his reaction ten minutes ago.
The atmosphere between us relaxes as we continue chatting about the past, and it strikes me Liam wishes he could rewind and spend time there. He’s not the only one.
The friends around us are paired off discussing the ins and outs of their lives, issues, and people I know nothing about. I couldn’t join in the conversation if I wanted to. How amusing this single mum has more in common with a rock star than the people around her. Neither of us belongs even though we’d like to.
“Do you think they’re not talking to me because they’re in awe of my fame?” Liam whispers and when I turn to admonish him, I spot the glint in his eye.
“No, probably because you’re not very interesting.”
He gasps and places a hand over his heart, rings catching the light. “That hurts!”
I shake my head. “I’m a fine one to talk; I’m not exactly the life and soul of the party.”
“I don’t mind it means I get to keep you all to myself.”
The comment comes as I’m drinking and the effect on my breathing interferes. I gulp down the liquid attempting not to choke. I glance at him, eyes watering. “Don’t,” I say quietly.
“Why? It’s true.” Liam’s hand rests on the table and our fingers touch. He curls his little finger around mine sending a shockwave through my body and my life. If news his engagement is off worries him, cosying up with me in public strikes me as odd.
I tug my hand away from his and sit on it. “How much have you had to drink?”
He smirks. “Not as much as you, Cerys.”
“It’s not fair of you to tease me.”
“I’m not teasing you. Why do you say that?”
I rub my lips together and lean forward to whisper, “The kiss, now talking about Honey. This isn’t fair; I told you that in the garden yesterday.”
“I don’t want to talk about Honey. I don’t even want to think about her.”
Every time Honey is mentioned, I think of Craig and I don’t want to. Then I think of Ella and guilt seeps in about leaving her alone tonight. What if she wakes up frightened from being in a strange house without me there?
“I want to go now,” I tell Liam.
“Did I upset you?”
“No, I’m worried about Ella.” I pull my handbag from under the table.
“Ella’s fine, she has Mum wrapped around her little finger. She was asleep anyway, wasn’t she?”
“I want to go, Liam.” I repeat.
“Fine. I’ll go with you.” Liam grabs his jacket. “Lou, I’m taking Cerys home.”
Louise looks between us and gives me a look I know refers back to our conversation in the kitchen. I frown and mouth ‘no’, she raises an ‘oh, really?’ eyebrow so I look away.
Outside, the snow on the pavement is thicker than when we arrived although flakes no longer fall from the sky. I wrap my blue scarf around my neck and burrow my nose into the wool.
Liam pulls on his black beanie and rubs his hands together. “A white Christmas would be awesome!”
“A week to go, maybe it will be.”
“Christmases should be white, makes them magic,” he says and grins.
“You’re a sentimentalist, aren’t you?” I say. “Very odd for someone like you.”
“There you go again. ‘Someone like me’. Am I a different species?” He pouts and buries his hands in his jacket pockets.
The Christmas lights cast a multi-coloured glow along the rooftops and the tree in the centre of the town stretches toward the grey clouds, snow settled on the branches. He’s right; it is magical. As a kid, I came here every Christmas Eve, a family ritual after the church service. We pause by the metal railings and I gaze up at the green and red light bulbs.
“I’ll bring Ella on Christmas Eve,” I say. “We can see the carol-singers, too.”
“That would be cool for her; I bet she’d love that. Could I come along?”
I turn to him in surprise. Liam is back to scrutinising me, and this whole situation is weird. “If you don’t have anything better to do.”
“Sit in with the parents or get drunk with Louise? It’s not every day I get to watch other people performing.” He winks at me.
“Maybe you could offer to join in?”
Liam laughs and the sound echoes through the quiet streets. “Sure, maybe I’ll get the rest of the guys over and we can give them a carol performance St Davids has never seen before!”
The idea of the spectacle amuses me almost as much as the weird comfort of Liam’s presence. When we were growing up, he wouldn’t give me the time of day, especially as a teen when I was his kid sister’s annoying friend. The three-year age gap was telling back then, but narrowed the night he kissed my star struck seventeen-year-old self. This is reversed today; I’m the one with responsibilities while he’s young and carefree.
“That’s a serious face,” says Liam.
A snowflake drifts down and lands on his beanie. I tip my head to the sky, there’re a few flakes now but the dark clouds signal heavier falls are imminent.
“The serious isn’t far away,” I say quietly.
The soft look of concern in Liam’s green eyes squeezes my heart because Craig never looks at me this way. How can someone who has no comprehension of what my life is like hold understanding and sympathy toward me and my daughter?
Liam’s leather jacket gathers snowflakes that melt as they settle and we remain with the snow falling in the space between us. A flake lands on my mouth, another on my eyelashes. I lick away the snowflake and Liam steps closer. With his index finger, he brushes the snow from my face. His fingers are warm against my cold cheek; and instead of withdrawing, he leaves his palm cupped around my face.
“Lucky snowflakes,” he says.
“Why?”
“They get to kiss your skin.” He looks at my mouth. “Your lips.”
I hitch a breath. Liam should step back and let me go, not rewind my thumping hearted self to summer five years ago. Does he remember the last time we were at the pub together, when I was drinking illegally and thought I was so grown up? I threw myself at Liam that night and would’ve had sex with him if he’d offered. Liam was drunk too and we shared a kiss but no more. The next day he was gone.
Two months later, I was pregnant by Craig and had to grow up fast.
Reinforcing his point, more snowflakes settle onto my cheeks and Liam touches my lips. “You deserve to be covered in a snowstorm of kisses by a man who sees the strength and beauty in you.” The intense emerald eyes drag me further into the moment. “There’s a man who craves the love held in your eyes when you look at your daughter, who wants to pull you into the blizzard and show you how to love yourself by being passionate about everything you are.”
The strange poetry of his words wrap around my heart, melting with the snow on my heating skin. If the only thing hovering in the space between us was the sexual spark, I’d pull a face at his smooth talking, but the Liam I’ve learnt about over the last few days isn’t smooth talking.
“You’re a sweet guy,” I say.
Liam pulls a pained face. “Do you know how insulting that is? Lollipops are sweet, kittens are sweet...”
“No, I think you’ll find kittens are cute.”
“Badass rock stars aren’t sweet!” he continues.
“No, but you’re not a badass rock star, are you?”
“Jeez, you dent my ego more every minute!” His eyes sparkle with amusement and I’m disarmed. He grabs me around the waist and pulls me close, my hips against his and Liam’s mouth against my hair. “What do I need to do to show you I am a badass rock star?”
I pull my head back and look into his eyes, aware of the sensation of the point our bodies connect and nothing more. He moistens his lips. “I’m not sweet, though, Cerys; the thoughts I have about you are far from sweet.”
I place my hands on his chest, against the leather and wish I could run them beneath and feel the muscles I know are hidden there. “I wouldn’t want you to have sweet thoughts about me.”
Liam’s hands roam around to my backside and he tugs me closer, against his lean body. “Believe me, they’re not.”
Our faces touch, his rough cheek against my forehead, and I know if I move my head a few centimetres, our mouths will meet and our worlds will shift.
“Is kissing you still wrong?” I ask.
Liam moves his face. The static charge of our mouths so close and the snow drifting onto our bodies drag us into a surreal world. The shift happens. I slide my cheek along his, the stubble scratching my skin as my lips meet the edge of Liam’s.
The world is covered in white, hidden from reality; a reality that I hate currently. I can escape for an evening, maybe a few days, and allow his blizzard to overwhelm me. If life is the same struggle when everything melts away again, a few moments lost in a fantasy after months of feeling worthless are what I need and worth the consequences.
Liam digs his hand into my hair and crashes his mouth against mine. I gasp in surprise at the force as he delves his tongue into my mouth, sliding it against mine. When Liam kissed me in the bedroom the other day, there was a tension in him where he held back part of himself. Was this because Liam knew I held back too? This time the world falls away completely as we kiss frantically, noses bumping as he pulls me into the snowstorm that is Liam Oliver.
Liam moves to kiss my cheeks, his rough face scrapes against my skin as his hot lips burn into my cool neck. He slides a hand around my waist, beneath my coat and holds me against him; the unexpected feel of his hardened length against my hip shoots hot arousal through me. God, I want this man to touch me.
Convinced my legs are going to give way and cursing the lack of walls for Liam to press me against, I grip his sleeve. Liam nudges his nose back across my face, hot breath mingling with mine and misting in the air. “Definitely feels right,” he whispers.
Then Liam kisses me so gently that he takes my soul and pulls it apart. My head spins as the intensity of the slow kiss fills me with a craving for this man that will never be satiated. This is more than feeling right, this is our hearts open and raw finding their way together.
Which means when they’re torn apart again the pain will kill me.
The heat we create counteracts the falling temperature around us but the cold of reality isn’t far. I pull my face away; I need to pull myself out of this.
“We should go back to your parents’ house,” I say, the dizzying high warming me against the cold.
Liam’s disappointment at losing my mouth on his is as clear in his darkened green eyes as his desire. “I’m a super smooth guy taking a girl back to my parents.”
“Not your usual seduction technique, I guess.”
Liam slips his hand into mine. “I don’t need to get you into my bed; you already sleep there.”
The words touch on what definitely won’t happen when we get back to the house and I’m relieved we won’t face the opportunity to step too far over the line. If sex underlies Liam’s motives, he’s facing disappointment.
The walk home from the pub is short. As we approach the house, Liam wraps an arm around my shoulder and hugs me close,
fiercely kissing the top of my head, but saying nothing. The cold overwhelms my stiffening hands and feet, the warmth of the kitchen is a relief. Only Goldie greets us, the house dark and quiet. I busy myself making a hot drink, the alcohol and excitement coursing through. Liam rests against the kitchen counter with his hands in his pockets, watching everything I do.
“Coffee?” I ask, holding up the jar of instant.
“Put that down and come here,” he says in a low voice.
Liam shuffles down and stretches his legs out so he’s closer to my height. I approach, heart rate skyrocketing as Liam pulls me toward him, the way he did in the snow. This time his jacket is unbuttoned, I place my hands on his chest, and Liam’s heart beats against my palm at a speed to match mine. Weirdly, I know what he looks like under his shirt because I used to have pictures of a naked chested Liam on my wall.
“I want to kiss you again,” he says, “but each time I do, it’s harder to let you go again.”
“I’ll make sure you let me go.” I grip his fingers in mine.
“I don’t mean tonight. I mean the more I’m with you; the harder it will be to let you go. I don’t want to leave and hurt you more.”
“Liam, I’m aware what this is.”
“What?”
“We’re both already hurt; this soothes the pain, but it’s temporary, I understand.”
He strokes across my cheek and places his fingers on my lips. “Maybe I’m overthinking this.”
“Yes, you probably are. But don’t stop in case you hurt me, someone beat you to that, and nothing you could do would come close.”
Liam’s eyes soften and he hugs me to his chest, squashing the air from my lungs. “Cerys...”
I wriggle from his grasp. “Don’t feel sorry for me.”
With both hands, Liam holds my cheeks. “I don’t feel sorry for you; I’m in awe of you, of the fact you’re not a complete mess, that you’re so strong for Ella.”
I swallow back a lump against the fact he doesn’t know what I keep buried. “You only see the edge of me. Please, Liam, don’t talk about this. Kiss me again.” For a moment, I don’t think he will, that Liam meant what he said. I move my mouth close to his. “Please.”
Unplugged: A Blue Phoenix Book Page 7
