by K. K. Allen
In my peripheral, I could see that my mom was watching the show too. Liam pulled the blonde onto an empty dance floor while an orchestra serenaded them. He pulled her close, ran his nose along her cheek, then whispered something in her ear that made her smile.
Embarrassment flooded me as I recalled my time with Liam last night, which had been nothing like this. It had been the complete opposite, in fact. I’d never even worn a fancy dress outside of a few high school dances, and they certainly hadn’t been as nice as the one on television.
“Have you watched this show?” I asked my mom without taking my eyes off the screen. I hoped she couldn’t hear the way my heart rattled and my voice shook.
“Oh yes,” she said, her eyes widening.
“What is it?”
“A British reality dating show, but it’s just a repeat. The season ended last week, and boy oh boy, did this Liam fellow make a mess of things. You can never trust a handsome man like that.”
I was trying hard not to cry as I whipped my head to catch my mom tsking. “He made a mess of things? How so?”
She nodded at the television. “He started out with thirty women and eliminated all but three, then on the last show, when it came time to pick one, he packed his bags and left them all hanging.” She shook her head. “Everyone thought he would pick her.” She referenced the woman Liam was escorting into a limo. “He picked out an engagement ring and everything.”
A glimmer of hope sparked in my chest. “So, he just decided he didn’t want to marry any of them?” That didn’t sound too terrible. No one should feel forced to propose.
The shot cut from the date to an interview-type setting, where Liam was speaking directly to the camera. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but that was probably for the best.
“They say he fled Britain too. The media can’t track him down. The producers have no clue where he is. He just up and disappeared when clearly he has some explaining to do. He’s a coward, if you ask me.” She ran a hand over my back. “And you thought Dean was a prick. This guy is the real deal.”
My dad cleared his throat behind us. “Well, that’s my cue.” He stood and squeezed my mom’s shoulder, then turned to me. “Staying for a while, honey? I’m baking a fresh batch of scones.”
I squeezed out a smile as I rose to my feet. “No thanks, Dad. I’ve got to get back to the Hogues’. I want to take advantage of all the writing time I have.” And possibly research a certain Liam Colborn.
“Ah back to the muse.” He grinned, his innocence bringing lightness to my heart, even in the circumstances. If my parents only knew that my muse for my current story was the same coward who had just paraded some blonde around on television before breaking her heart.
If I’d had any doubts in my mind when it came to exploring things further with Liam, my heart and mind could now rest easy. Unfortunately, I knew rest was the last thing my heart and mind would do.
15
Liam
I wasn’t trying to stalk Chelsea when I caught her leaving Spill the Tea, but when I saw the look on her face, I thought better than to go to her. She was already angry with me, and I’d already resolved that it was okay for it to be that way. After obsessing over my decision to leave her place the other night without sleeping with her and imagining all the things that would have happened if I had stayed, I knew I couldn’t take back how things had ended. Not unless I were to tell her the true reason for my being here.
I also went over all the reasons I should and shouldn’t tell her everything—the whole sordid story of my past fuckups—and it became even more clear that I should leave it alone. Why give her my past to deal with when she was so focused on her future? Chelsea was a firecracker of a woman, a woman I wanted desperately to get to know better, but she was also a woman with standards, and I had no right to pretend I was good enough for her.
So, instead of following her on the path she’d taken to get back to the manor, I slipped on my sunglasses and a cap, then entered Spill the Tea. Just like the first day I visited the small tearoom, soft music came through the speakers, and a couple of guests were already seated at a table near the front of the room. Chelsea’s mom was at the counter counting money in the register, but as I took another step inside, she looked up and gave me a friendly smile.
It wasn’t until I was halfway to her that I heard my voice coming from the televisions positioned around the room. Panic hit me hard. My first thought was that I didn’t want to be recognized, but that thought dissolved quickly when I recalled the last time I visited the shop. Between my sunglasses, my clothes, and the fact that I was in Providence, Rhode Island, chances of the tearoom owner recognizing me were slim. They simply weren’t expecting my presence. Not only that, but the me who appeared on that television screen was an imposter.
Then my second thought hit me. Did Chelsea see me on television before she walked out of Spill the Tea?
The gnawing in my gut increased as I worried I already knew the truth, but I tried to think positively. Maybe she hadn’t paid attention to the television, or maybe the televisions hadn’t even been turned on until she’d walked out.
Suddenly, I wished I had told Chelsea everything last night, no matter what was going on between us. I didn’t want her to find out on her own, and eventually, she would.
I continued cautiously forward, my steps slower than when I’d first come inside, but no one gave me a suspicious glance. If anything, the older woman seemed even friendlier to me than she had the last time I’d seen her.
“Hello, again. I remember you.”
“Do you?” I cringed internally, wishing I’d adopted a fake American accent to greet her the first time. Though, I wasn’t sure my American accent would be better than that Gwen woman’s British one.
Chelsea’s mom smiled wider. “I never forget a face. You’re the young gentleman who was here earlier this week. Would you like your same order? Earl black with a spoonful of creme?”
I nodded slowly, feeling my exterior thaw for the adorable woman. She reminded me of my own mum back home in London. With her cropped graying hair and friendly demeanor, it was no wonder the regulars loved her, as Chelsea had said.
“That would be nice, thank you.”
As she bustled about behind the counter, my gaze looked back up to the television. They were airing one of the last episodes where Francesca and I were finally getting to have some alone time without the cameras present. Up until that point in our relationship, I had thought she was going to be the one I chose in the very end. Except, I hadn’t made it that far, not after the conversation we’d had in that hotel room alone, without the cameras watching our every move. It turned out there was more to Francesca than I had yet to witness, which shocked me back to the reality of our situation.
Though I hadn’t gotten to know any of the women well enough to propose, the pressure to do just that had my mind spinning and rushing into something that wouldn’t have been fair to either of us. I was willing to take one for the team. In retrospect, I would have been an idiot to propose. Luckily, it hadn’t come to that.
That night alone with Francesca had been the first time I’d realized how much of a role the cameras had played in the entire eight weeks we’d been getting to know each other. It turned out, she wasn’t a sweet, vivacious woman dedicated to finding true love. She had strategized her way to that moment and had thought we were one and the same. She’d wanted me to help her “win.”
The moment she had called it winning, I’d known she wasn’t in it for the right reasons and she certainly wasn’t the right one for me. But what was I supposed to do? Continue to move forward with her? I couldn’t. The other women? I couldn’t do that either. Not if I were being honest with myself and them. So, I’d walked off the set. And never returned.
“Ridiculous, isn’t it?”
I did a double take, pretending I wasn’t sure what she was talking about. “What is it?”
The woman chuckled and shook her head. “A reality sh
ow, British Bachelor. Of course, a man like you wouldn’t watch a show like that. Trust me when I say it’s a train wreck.” Then she waved a hand in the air. “Don’t waste your time worrying about it.” She pushed forward my tea. “Will that be all?”
Helene was Chelsea’s mom’s name, according to her name tag. “That will do it.” I looked at the register and handed Helene a twenty before grabbing my tea and nodding to her. Apparently, sunglasses still worked wonders as a disguise. “I’m sure I’ll be back.”
She smiled and waved politely. “Looking forward to it, dear. Maybe my daughter will be here when you come by next time. She lives in the area, and she’s single.”
Despite the circumstances, I couldn’t help the smile spreading on my face. “I’m sure she’s as lovely as her mum.”
Helene’s warm eyes reminded me so much of her daughter’s, I felt a buzzing in my chest as I turned toward the door. I wondered if Chelsea had said anything to her mum about me, about the man who was staying at the Hogues’ manor. Hopefully she’d left out the fact that he’d wanted to show her his giant willy.
I laughed at my own ridiculous thoughts. How I had any restraint at all to walk away from Chelsea the other night was a mystery. She was nothing like Francesca. She was real, and she was perfect in all the ways I’d gotten to know about her.
I walked out of Spill the Tea with an even heavier heart than I’d walked in with and a determination to sit Chelsea down and talk to her about everything I’d been keeping quiet. She deserved to know the truth—more than the damn British media, more than British Bachelor producers, and more than Francesca.
As soon as I reached the house, it was clear Chelsea wasn’t home. Her car was gone, and all the lights in the pool area were off. Disappointment sank deep in my gut. Of course she would be gone, and I had no way of getting ahold of her.
I was about to turn dejectedly toward the main house when something white taped to her front door caught my eye. My initial reaction was to leave without glancing at it, but then I realized the note might be for me. I stepped forward, hoping I wasn’t massively invading her personal life, and that was when I spotted my name.
Liam,
In case you happen to look for me. I’m visiting a friend for a couple of days. I’ll be back when the Hogues return. Didn’t want you to worry.
Chelsea
Well, bollocks.
16
Chelsea
I heard their boisterous voices the second I opened my car door early Monday morning.
The Hogues were back, bringing an instant smile to my face. Quickening my steps, I pushed my way through the side gate of the house and breezed past the courtyard until I was on the back porch, where the family was all smiling.
Simon and Bridget laughed as the twins, Elizabeth and Eleanor, squealed in Liam’s lap. Brendan beamed like the rest of them with his head turned down toward his phone while his fingers danced away on the keys.
I’d taken a much-needed break from the Hogues’ residence while I’d digested the news about why Liam was really there. Maisey had let me stay with her and Roger while I spilled all the details of what had been brewing between Liam and me.
She’d always been an amazing friend, but it had been in those moments when I’d started to question all my life decisions that she’d come through hard for me. She’d offered up her study for me to spend my days writing, then she’d dragged me out at night for a full drunken experience filled with wine, laughs, and tears.
We had talked about everything, from Liam to my parents to school to writing. She’d listened with honest, sympathetic, and nonjudgmental ears. It turned out she’d been proud of me for submitting my finished manuscript to an editor, and I’d realized that worrying about her opinion had been a manifestation of my own fear. Once all my confessions were out of the way, we’d googled the hell out of Liam Colborn, which had opened up a whole new can of worms.
Liam’s swimming career had been in the public’s eye for nearly a decade before he’d faded out of the media, only to return with a vengeance. Not only had Liam been on a television show in the UK, he’d been the star of that television show, British Bachelor. Or the “Forever Bachelor” as the media reports called him. And apparently, he was a complete jerk. A playboy with zero intention to ever settle down, he seemed perfectly content to make everyone think his intentions were honorable.
All the respect I’d had for Liam felt tarnished, and it wasn’t because of the women he’d left behind or the dirt the media outlets had found on him. Liam hadn’t even explained his reasons for walking away. He’d simply left England and left everyone there to pick up the pieces of his destruction without any clue as to why.
Seeing him now, smiling and laughing with the Hogues, made my stomach churn with disappointment for a man I had truly started to care for.
“Well, hello there,” I greeted on my approach.
Everyone’s head snapped toward me at once, including Liam’s. I did my best to avoid his heavy stare while the twins gasped, ran to me, and threw themselves into my arms. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed the twin girls until they were hugging me.
“Your vacation was too long,” I told them when they released me. Then I placed my hand on the top of Eleanor’s head and gasped. “You grew taller.”
She giggled, and I did the same thing to Elizabeth and watched her giggle too. Twin giggles, the cutest sound in the world. I wrapped my arms around each of their waists and winked at Brendan, who had finally looked up from his phone.
“What’s up, dude? How was your trip?”
His eyes sparkled. Brendan was such a great kid with an appetite for all the experiences his parents were able to give him. I loved that he didn’t take those experiences for granted.
“It was the best.” He went on to tell me about their trip to see the crown jewels at the Tower of London and the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace, but then he got distracted again by something on his phone.
I laughed and looked up at Simon and Bridget. “I bet he missed his friends.”
“Oh, did he,” Bridget said with a laugh. “He’s already got plans with Xavier today. I’m going to walk him over in a little bit.”
“You must be exhausted,” I said. “I thought I’d take the girls out today so you can enjoy some time at home.”
Bridget and Simon looked at each other, their eyes sparkling in some silent exchange. Clearly, the idea of being kidless for a few hours excited them.
“I was thinking about taking the kids to the zoo,” I added. “If Brendan already has plans, then I can just take the girls. They’re having a light show tonight, too, so I imagine we’d get back pretty late, if that’s okay with you.”
Simon nodded to his wife and shrugged before he turned back to me. “Sold. Why don’t you take Liam here too? I’m sure he’d like to check out some Providence sites.” Simon looked between Liam and me like he’d forgotten. “You two were able to get acquainted while we were away, I hope.”
I felt my face flame, which I tried to hide in my hair as I turned back to the girls, busying myself with making them giggle.
Liam spoke up. “I suppose you could say that. Chelsea was nice enough to show me around downtown Providence. We went to something called—what was that thing called again, Chelsea? Fire Water?”
“WaterFire,” I corrected, trying my best to bite the seething anger I felt toward the British man I’d so stupidly fallen for. “I thought it would be a nice thing for me to do since Liam saved me from the cactus poison.”
Simon laughed, as he must have remembered that Liam had called him about that. “I’m so sorry, Chelsea. You’re never to touch our succulents again, but I appreciate you taking the girls out today. We could use a few quiet moments before we go back to work tomorrow.”
I rose to my feet, darting a look at Liam. “Would you like to come with us?”
He stood, rising almost a foot above me as he grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”
&nb
sp; Instinct had me laughing as if nothing at all was wrong, but it didn’t take long to remember that this banter couldn’t happen. Liam wasn’t who he said he was, and I wouldn’t fall for it again. But as he stood there, I hated the way his breath smelled fresh and minty and how his natural scent was so intoxicating.
For a heartbeat, I remembered the way my arms felt wrapped around him as he kissed me. A chill rushed over my skin as my lips burned at the memory. I bit down on my smile, kicking my forbidden thoughts to the background, and took the girls’ hands in mine. “Great. I’ll go get the girls ready now.”
17
Liam
Simon halted me with a firm grip on my shoulder as I started to make my way down to the basement. Bridget was walking Brendan down the street to where his friend lived, and Chelsea was upstairs with the girls. From the second I felt his touch, I groaned inwardly, knowing what would come next.
“If I failed to make this clear,” Simon began before I’d even had a chance to turn around, “you are not to get involved with Chelsea. Do you hear me?”
I swiveled to face him, almost hurt by the request. Was I not a grown man who could date whoever I pleased? Not that Chelsea wanted anything to do with me after our last night together. “That’s absurd of you to say.”
Simon had always felt like another brother to me. After Blake died, he’d often acted more like a parental figure. I knew he was coming from a good place, but I also felt like he was out of line to try to control my life in that way.
