Ella wriggles from my hug and skips across the tarmac school playground toward the double-doors into school. Big girl Ella won’t let me come in with her anymore, even though her school days are mornings only until September. Almost a big girl.
My phone beeps.
I giggle and reply to Liam’s message.
Phoebe bumps me, and I’m pulled out of mine and Liam’s world back to the school yard. “Texting your man again?”
“He’s not my man; I haven’t seen him since Ella’s party.”
Phoebe purses her perfectly made-up pink lips. “Mmm-hmm.”
The past two weeks have been filled with whispers and rumours, and Phoebe is the only person I’m comfortable talking to about Liam. Yes, we unfortunately hit Facebook, thanks to a sneaky photograph of Liam eating party food, but that was the limit of media exposure. I’m happy because I don’t want the world thinking I’m his after a couple of hours together.
I text
I pull a face at the phone and Phoebe laughs at me. “Cute. You’re like teens.”
“We knew each other as teens.”
Phoebe tucks her arm through mine as we head back toward the school gates. “Teen sweethearts reconnecting? Even cuter!”
“Not exactly. He was too old for me then; I’m friends with his sister.”
“So you were around each other a lot because of that?”
“Yes, Blue Phoenix rehearsed at Liam’s house. I got subjected to their early stuff and believe me, it wasn’t good.”
“I don’t believe that! They’re an amazing band.”
“Once they started playing their own stuff, it improved. Marginally. When you’ve heard ‘Stairway to Heaven’ rehearsed on repeat for two hours, it doesn’t sound so good anymore.”
Phoebe laughs. “So romantic though! I think there’s a reason you and Liam reconnected. You might’ve been too young then, but the world can’t keep you apart if you’re meant to be together.”
“My fifteen year old self whole-heartedly believed that. Now? I’m not sure, but I’m not going to miss the opportunity.”
“You deserve someone who’s nice to you. I think I’ve seen you smile more this past couple of weeks than the whole two years I’ve known you. And that’s without Liam being here!”
She’s right. Someone turned the colours on the world up a notch when Liam walked into my house the other week. The everyday stress is bearable, because each mundane day of my hassled routine to school and home, dealing with a five year old, is one day closer to Liam coming back. At first, I doubted I’d see him again after Ella’s party, but the constant texts and occasional phone call are from a man who is thinking of me.
“I’m cautiously optimistic,” I say with a small smile as we cross the road.
“I want good things for you! Ella was telling Jordan all about him.”
“Really?” Again the pang of fear she’ll get hurt. “I’m not sure Ella should get excited about Liam yet.”
“You’re talking about yourself, aren’t you? A sexy as hell rock star, who your daughter loves, texts you constantly.” She indicates the phone. “Beats a plumber who treated you like crap and rarely visits his daughter.”
Craig doesn’t visit Ella much even though he still lives in Cardiff. A couple of times he’s arranged to come over and take her out, and then cancelled at the last minute with no explanation. Craig never visited Ella on her birthday, the evening of the party, Craig called her to say ‘Happy Birthday’ and brought a gift the next day. Personally, I don’t think a five year old should have an iPad but his guilt was huge this time. Craig looked like crap too and though he said he didn’t come on her birthday because he was sick, I suspect inebriated is closer to the truth. Luckily, Ella didn’t mention Liam to him. Craig’s manipulation at Christmas and words about his love for his daughter annoy me, as does how weak I was allowing myself to be sucked back into his control.
Not anymore.
Phoebe waves goodbye as she climbs into her Subaru. She works across town, part-time secretarial work. She doesn’t need to work but likes buying herself pretty things, as she puts it. Phoebe has family nearby who help out with school pick-ups, giving her more opportunities. Unlike me.
The walk home takes ten minutes, and I sigh when I remember how much housework waits for me at home, mentally running through my list of things to do before I have to collect Ella. If I get on top of things, I could take an hour to sit in the garden with a book. Self-indulgent, I know, but the weather’s warm and there’s few days left before Ella’s home full time.
I’m mid-way through cleaning the bathroom when the doorbell rings. I pull off my rubber gloves and wipe my face with the back of my hand before answering the door.
Liam.
I stare at the apparition unable to speak. His wary green eyes are combined with the wide-smile that accentuates how amazing his jawline is. I attempt not to stare at his toned physique, his presence triggering my usual shaking reaction. This man is hotter than I remember every time I see him again. I’m snapped out of my admiration for Liam when I consider how I look with my sweaty face and hair, dressed in a scruffy shirt and old denim cut-offs.
“Hello?” Liam waves a hand in front of my face and I catch sight of what he’s holding in his other hand, a bouquet of pink and white lilies. Nobody buys me flowers. The last time anybody did, I was in hospital after Ella was born.
I rub my eyes with the palm of my hand. “This is becoming a habit. What are you doing here?”
“Huh. Nice to see you, too.” He pulls a face, but his eyes twinkle with the Liam cheekiness.
“No, I mean, yes, it is; but you’re not due back until the weekend.” I push my fingers beneath my fringe that’s sticking to my face in an unattractive way
“I couldn’t wait any longer to see you.”
“You could’ve called! Look at me!”
He sweeps a gaze over my ensemble. “I am and you look beautiful.”
I shake my head. “Flowers and compliments? You’ve been reading the ‘How to be Romantic’ manual then?”
“Cover to cover. Aren’t you going to ask me in?”
I step back and as he passes me, he leans down and inhales. “Mmm, Eau de Bleach.”
I poke him in the ribs. “Like I said, if you’d called...”
He tips my chin. “Like I said, I couldn’t wait any longer.”
Thankfully, my general sweatiness caused by cleaning the bathroom also masks the sweaty palmed reaction to Liam’s arrival. The shaking isn’t as well hidden.
Liam misreads my confusion. “Didn’t you want to see me?”
“Yes! I just didn’t expect you, allow me some shock!” I head into the kitchen to find something suitable for putting flowers in. Liam watches as I move things around inside the cupboard, the best I can find is a large, glass jug.
“Hmm. The manual never said anything about how to deal with chicks who don’t fall into your arms when you bring her flowers. I’d better go home and re-read the book in case I missed that section.”
I sigh and tiptoe to kiss his mouth. When I step back, he touches his lips in surprise. “Was that for the flowers?”
“No, that’s for being romantic and making me feel squishy inside.”
Liam wrinkles his nose. “Squishy? I’m not sure that’s healthy.”
The teenage Cerys w
ho’s overwhelmed by rock star Liam Oliver needs shutting away. I’m twenty-two years old and a mother. “You do know I can’t go out with you on a date just because you turn up here?”
“I know, Ella, school, mum stuff.” He mock-yawns. “We could still go for lunch, if you like?”
“I have an hour tops, Ella’s not at school full-time yet.”
“Oh. Okay. I didn’t know.”
“And Ella has plans for you next time she sees you, so I’d make yourself scarce before she comes home.”
He snorts. “Plans? Oh, God, I can only imagine the nefarious intentions of a five year old girl.”
“Oh, you might laugh but the hair plaiting at Christmas was just the start of your torture.” I grin at the dawning look on his face. “I think she has ribbons picked out this time. Poor Jordan, when he comes over he’s forced to wear a princess dress.” I arch an eyebrow. “Feel lucky you’re too tall.”
Liam steps closer and draws my head toward him. “Be quiet.” His soft mouth touches mine, a buzz of connection tingles across my cheeks as he gently kisses me. “Much as I like her, I don’t want to talk about Ella,” he says. “You. Go and get changed and I’ll take you somewhere until you have to collect her.”
I gape at him. “Are you trying to boss me around?”
Liam winds a finger through my hair. “Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”
No, I don’t, because it’s bloody sexy and how I always imagined he would be before he blew that apart with his sweet behaviour around Ella. The prospect that Liam hides a different side, someone who does and gets what he wants, thrills me.
I make a disgruntled humph sound and head toward the stairs because if he had the slightest clue how hard my heart was beating and the effect of the arousal from the one kiss, he wouldn’t wait downstairs. If Liam knew, he’d be upstairs telling me what to do. I shake my head, as images of the things I’d like Liam to tell me to do sneak in.
****
The smart café close to Ella’s school is Liam’s choice. I’ve visited once but the price of the coffee didn’t justify a return visit. The school mums sometimes gather here but it’s not my scene. If I go to the McDonalds in the next street, I can afford to stay longer. I occasionally go with Phoebe, sometimes with our kids too
We sit upstairs on the mezzanine that overlooks the relaxed surroundings downstairs. With plush sofas and wooden tables, the place is more like someone’s house than a café. No wonder people don’t bring kids here.
A young girl with glossy black hair scraped back in a ponytail brings our drinks and her attempt to figure out who Liam is clearly reflects on her face. She smiles sweetly and runs her hands across her white apron before heading off with a glance over her shoulder.
Liam slides his glass tumbler toward him and stirs the cream into the hot chocolate, oblivious.
“Do you think she guessed who you are?” I ask him.
Liam shrugs. “Maybe. If we were in London, I reckon she’d realise but here, who knows? Do you want to be seen with me?”
“No!”
“Okay, I’ll go then.”
I open my mouth to protest and the twinkling eyed Liam grins at me. I kick him under the table. “I meant I didn’t want attention.”
“Interference in our date, you mean.”
At the word ‘date’, I concentrate on tipping sugar into my coffee and allowing my hair to sweep forward. Liam dips his head to look beneath my hair.
“Why are you blushing?”
“Because you make me feel like a teenager,” I say.
Liam pushes my hair away from my eyes. “That’s cute.”
His fingertips against my skin jolts like a static shock; and as he rubs my cheek, the sensation spreads to my scalp, down my neck, pretty much everywhere. I shiver. The intensity in Liam’s eyes shifts downward and I startle as his hand brushes the top of my chest. “You’re wearing the necklace,” he says, holding the chain in his fingers.
I close my hand around the gold heart and stare back at him, locked back in the strange place I see in his eyes. Mine and Liam’s place. “I always wear it.”
“Do you?” he asks in surprise, moving to touch my hand.
I let go of the heart and pull my fingers away, taking hold of my cup instead. Sipping the coffee, my dry mouth moistens and I focus on bringing myself back to reality.
“When I bought you that, I didn’t realise I’d be giving a piece of my heart to you with it,” he says quietly.
The black-haired girl returns with two slices of chocolate cake but my insides are too full of butterflies to attempt to eat. I smile and thank her; glad she’s interrupted the intensity of the moment.
Liam sighs. “I’m not interested in playing games with you. We’re not teenagers.”
“I know, but remember the Liam I knew before Christmas was the one from my teenage years. Of course you’ll make me feel like that still.”
“I want you in my life,” he says. “I have five months to make up for, Cerys, and I’m not leaving this any longer.”
“Wow, straight to the point.”
“Why bother with all the dancing around each other bullshit? We know each other already; I now want to get to know you better.”
“So do I.”
Liam leans toward me. “I feel as if I should be with you, that it’s the place I need to be. Does that sound crazy?”
“A little.” Or it would if he wasn’t reflecting how I feel. “A rock star feels he needs to be with a single mum?”
“No, Liam feels he needs to be around Cerys as much as he can. I understand your life’s complicated and that I’m sharing you with Ella, but I’m prepared to do that. I won’t come in and take over; I have commitments to work so I’m not around all the time. Is that okay with you?”
I laugh at him. “It’s like you’re making a business proposition, Liam.”
“I’m being straight with you; I thought you’d appreciate that.”
“I appreciate you making your intentions clear, Mr Oliver,” I say with a smirk.
Liam leans across and whispers. “I haven’t even begun to tell you about my intentions yet, Miss Edwards.”
The pink I’d managed to settle flares across my cheeks again, the darkened look in his emerald eyes is one I imagine he’s given a lot of girls over the last few years and I’m willing to bet few, if any, of them said no.
Attempting and failing to hide the effect this is having on me, I delve into my bag for my phone and check the time. “Sorry, you’ll have to tell me later. I need to collect Ella.” The attempt at nonchalance is spoilt by the crack in my voice.
Please, can somebody turn on the air-conditioning because I’m a sweaty mess after less than an hour alone with this man, and the oxygen levels definitely need adjusting in this room? The only solution is to disengage. I focus hard on fastening my handbag.
“Cerys, look at me.” I tip my head, hair covering some of my face and look to one of amusement on his. “Bottom line, I like you a hell of a lot and I want to get to know you better. Every part of you.”
“Good idea,” I say, clearing my throat. “I’d like to get to know you better, too.”
He cocks a brow. “Every part of me?”
I stand. “Stop teasing me, Liam.” Yes, a thousand times.
He stands, looking at me curiously and I’d kill to know what his exact thoughts are at this moment. “I’ll drop you at school and we can continue this conversation later. I mean every word though.”
Only time will tell if he’s serious, or whether this is his fantasy brought on by the disasters in his other world recently. In my heart, I’m sure the connection to Liam runs deeper, otherwise why would fate keep bringing us back together?
CHAPTER 19
CERYS
I apply lipstick with a shaking hand and end up with a pink smear halfway across my face. This is followed by stabbing myself in the eye with a mascara wand.
Yes, I want to see Liam but his idea of a date terrifies me. We
had one coffee date the morning he surprised me by returning from LA early, but since then our relationship has continued by text while he works in London. I teased him, saying he was scared of Ella and that’s why he wouldn’t come back, even though behind the teasing, is genuine concern she might be the deal-breaker.
Because Liam knows my babysitting options are limited, he has the bright idea that a big night out would suit me. A big night out which includes Jem, Bryn, and an up and coming band. The band, Ruby Riot, has been adopted by Jem who has taken on a quasi-manager role, arranging gigs up and down the country for them, and tonight they’re in Cardiff. I wanted to suggest a quiet meal would be a good start but he insists. Liam isn’t lacking in powers of persuasion. I guess rock stars don’t often take no for an answer.
Ella was over the moon when I told her she was spending the night at Jordan’s house. After all, his garden is bigger and he has a dog. The ease with which Ella agreed scared me because that was my one ‘get out of going’ excuse gone.
I guess when going to Plan B, a local club with a mostly student population, what to wear isn’t a huge concern. From memory, black is good for students. I settle on dark skinny jeans and a sheer black top that floats just below my hips, and short-heeled boots. I want to look as far removed from Honey as possible. The mistake of the sheer top is apparent when Liam arrives and his look zones straight to my chest, before he catches himself and switches his attention to my face.
“Admiring my necklace again, are you?” I ask him.
“You look beautiful,” he says and leans in to kiss my cheek.
I smile at his compliment. “You’ve been reading that ‘How to Romance’ book again haven’t you?”
Liam frowns at me. “Don’t put yourself down. I’m telling the truth.”
The club is squashed between some boutique shops in the centre of town, Plan B painted in big blue letters on an illuminated sign above the door and the retro look extends to the interior. Tattered posters from the 80s and 90s line the black painted breeze block walls; and circular wooden tables are pushed into corners, surrounded by stools or facing bench seats. The space between the small stage and bar is cleared, leaving little room for tables. This is one of those places where if you’re not early, you’re standing all night. At 7 p.m., we’re early.
Unplugged: A Blue Phoenix Book Page 13
