Until We're More

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Until We're More Page 21

by Cindi Madsen


  “Sure, set it up.”

  “Perhaps I should’ve added ‘cover a few classes and not terrify the attendees with your early morning charm.’”

  I gritted out a smile.

  Like with Chelsea, my attempts at intimidation never worked very well on Brooklyn. “We’ll, um, work on the smile. I’ll set it up, though.”

  “Thank you. And I’m not taking back what I said about appreciating everything you do here. I know you’ve got a lot going on, and that in theory you don’t work here anymore.” Another thing to feel guilty about, and another reason to pull in more income so she wouldn’t have to continue juggling both.

  She waved it off. “It’s not that big of a deal, and I enjoy the free-training perks that come along with it. Plus, I get more one-on-on time to ask my brother how his weekend went”—she widened her eyes, as if an opening would be all I needed to spill my guts—“and maybe that same brother will take a day off once he realizes the gym could actually run a couple days without him.”

  I made a noncommittal noise. The theory of taking a day off was nice. I’d taken off a few right when Chelsea first arrived, but I couldn’t afford many more than that.

  My phone chimed, and I pulled it out of my pocket.

  Chelsea: I’m outside the gym, but the door’s locked. Want to let me in?

  Somewhere between the last time I checked out the gym floor and now, the final kickboxing class of the day must’ve ended.

  “Ooh, a non-scary smile,” Brooklyn said. “That must be a certain redheaded bookworm. Or should I say ring girl?”

  I leveled my best glare at my sister. Then, since she’d find out anyway, said, “She’s at the door. Apparently it’s locked.”

  Brooklyn shot off the couch. “I’ll get it.”

  I stood and rounded the desk, cutting her off at the door and barring the way with my body. “No, I’ll get it.”

  “Need to get your stories straight before the rest of us see her?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Why bother? I know she’s going to tell you everything anyway.”

  A canary-eating grin spread across Brooklyn’s face. “That means there’s something to tell. I’m not a squee-er, but I swear, I’m about to squee. Perhaps shout hallelujah.”

  “How about just be cool?”

  She scrunched up her forehead and shook her head. “Nope. Don’t see that happening. But I’ll let you two have your reunion first. You’re welcome.”

  She headed over to where Shane was working a bag, and I walked across the gym to the front door, doing my best not to fucking skip.

  The wind was blowing outside, sending strands of Chelsea’s hair around her face, and she had hold of a couple plastic bags. The scent of food hit me as she stepped inside. “I figured you probably hadn’t had dinner yet.”

  “I haven’t,” I said.

  “And that you’d probably be here late.”

  I nodded.

  “I also bought the food at a restaurant, because I’ve finally given up on cooking for you.”

  “Thank God,” I teased, and she smacked my arm, the bags crinkling and knocking together.

  A quick glance over my shoulder proved that between the raised cage and rows of punching bags, we were obscured from view. I quickly drew her to me and kissed the lips I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about all damn day.

  And just like the girl, her kiss managed to rev me up and calm me down, all at the same time.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chelsea

  I clung to Liam, nearly dropping dinner at our feet as he kissed me breathless.

  “What was that for?” I asked when we came up for air.

  “Do I need a reason?”

  Still in a daze, I shook my head.

  “Good. ’Cause there are too many to list. How was work?”

  “Today’s meeting went really well. Everyone’s taking me more seriously, I’m not holding back my ideas, and the team dynamic is finally coming together. The new employees are almost fully trained, and that shouldn’t make me sad, but it means that…” A lump rose in my throat, and it definitely wasn’t only from thinking about leaving behind the team I’d helped build. Ever since Liam and I slept together, I’d been trying my hardest to not think about leaving. Which of course made the truth constantly bob to the surface to put a dent in my happy.

  “I know,” Liam said, and I was grateful I didn’t have to finish my sentence. He plucked the bags of food from my hands. “Before we head to the office to dig into our dinner—which, thank you—you should probably know that my family is still here, save my dad.”

  Was he telling me that he didn’t want them to find out about us? Or just giving me a heads up? My gut churned, my worries rising. We took one step toward the area where most of the action happened, then I remembered that I was more assertive now, so instead of stewing, I could open my mouth.

  I grabbed his arm, and he turned to face me. Maybe I should’ve told his back. Then I wouldn’t feel so…vulnerable. “I don’t need a big ‘determine the relationship’ talk. We’re friends above all, I get it. I just…I need to know what you told your family or what you want to tell them.”

  He opened his mouth, and my other stray thought burst out. “And I also need to know if you’ll be seeing other girls.” Apparently being assertive was kind of hard to stop once you’d started.

  He set the food on the nearest chair and wrapped his massive hands around my shoulders. “No other girls. And I’m warning you that seeing other guys would be bad for their health. In fact, you better call that Kevin guy and tell him you’re taken.”

  “Already done,” I said, smiling. “Days ago. I mean, I didn’t tell him I was taken, but I gave him a speech about sticking to friends. Because I was already taken, long before you decided you wanted to take me, too.”

  Liam’s eyes heated, like he was considering taking me again, right here and now, and then I was thinking about it as well. I reminded myself we were in public and glanced toward the octagon. “What about your family?”

  He groaned.

  Through the cage and swinging bags, I caught a glimpse of Shane practicing his striking while Finn and Brooklyn stood nearby talking to each other. “You don’t want them to know?”

  “It’s not that. They’re so damn nosey, and I spent so long insisting we were just friends while they rolled their eyes. They’re going to love saying ‘I told you so.’” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, tucking me next to him, and then grabbed the takeout bags. “But you should probably tell Brooklyn her ridiculous ring girl scheme worked—she was grilling me right before you arrived.”

  “How did you find out that she…?” Oops, I didn’t want to admit guilt on her end, since she’d been helping me out. “Not that she did, but…how do you know it wasn’t just a bold thing I decided to do on my own?”

  The amount of skepticism he aimed down at me was impressive, especially for a guy who was rarely expressive.

  “Hey, I sometimes decide to be bold on my own. Do you remember that time you went to kiss my cheek and got the corner of my mouth? I’d been thinking about kissing you and I decided to turn my head and just let it happen—although I more did it without thinking and I chickened out and you said something about your depth perception being off, which was mortifying.”

  He kept on staring down at me, that expressionless face that drove me crazy in more than one way in place.

  “Well?” My voice came out higher-pitched than usual.

  “Trying to figure out where to start. Do I tease you about how doing something without thinking and chickening out isn’t bold?”

  “You start with saying you remember.”

  “I remember.”

  “And?”

  “And I wasn’t sure how it happened or if I’d gotten carried away—it’s not like I hadn’t thought about kissing you before. But then things were weird after that and you moved, and…” He rubbed his thumb over my shoulder. “I definitely remember. Now I’m kic
king myself for not pulling you back to me and kissing you that night.”

  I curled closer and gave his scruffy cheek a peck. “We might’ve taken the long, windy route, but the important thing is we got to the kissing eventually. And since your sister played a part in that, I plan on thanking her.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be thanking her, too. Not out loud, though. Don’t want it to go to her head.”

  We shared a smile before stepping into full view of his family. Instead of waiting for them to say something about our cozier-than-usual stance, Liam cleared his throat. “In case anyone was wondering, Chelsea and I are just friends—”

  I peered at him, forehead all scrunched up, and he shot me a mischievous smile.

  “—who had a lot of sex this weekend.” He dipped his head to kiss me, not bothering to tone it down for our audience, who whistled and hooped and hollered.

  Shane even stopped his workout to give his congrats.

  “I wasn’t sure who’d be here,” I said, low enough so only Liam could hear, “so I bought a shit-ton of food.”

  “Of course you did.” Pride, or something close to it, lit his eyes as he looked at me. Then he glanced at his family and raised his voice. “Who’s hungry?”

  Big surprise, everyone was.

  Brooklyn and I caught up while Finn helped Liam clear off the desk in Blake’s office and Shane hit the showers, and within fifteen minutes we were seated around the room, plates of food on our laps.

  It was like now that Liam and I had crossed lines, everything else in my life had clicked into place. Work was going well—really well. And as we sat around talking and eating, I felt a sense of belonging—of home—that I’d never experienced growing up.

  I’d had hints of it with Liam, but over the past two and a half weeks, it’d taken root and grown, and surrounded by his brother, sister, and Shane, it deepened even more.

  Finn was the jokester who’d do almost anything for a laugh and had automatically taken me in when his brother did; Brooklyn had always been an awesome friend and what I imagined having a sister was like; and then there was Liam, the rock at my side. Whenever he was in a group, he didn’t talk much, although he spoke more with his family than anyone else.

  I snuggled closer, and he played with the ends of my hair. It made me think of how upset he’d been when I’d mentioned dyeing it brown.

  As the food disappeared and the conversation wound down, he kept glancing at the stack of papers on the desk, a clear indicator he was about to insist he get back to work. Before that happened, I wanted to take a second and commemorate this moment so I’d always remember it.

  I opened my phone, switched to the front-facing camera, and swiped to the filter with the floating hearts. I leaned my head against his and stretched out my arm in front of us. “Say cheese.”

  “You think now that we’re sleeping together, you can talk me into taking these crazy pictures?”

  “That’s exactly what I think.” I snapped one and saved it, then moved my lips next to his ear. “If you let me take one more, once we get home, I’ll let you bend me over the couch.”

  His hand circled my thigh, and his breaths came out more labored than usual.

  “Is that a yes?” I asked, slightly drunk on the power of causing that kind of a reaction.

  He swallowed and then gave one sharp nod.

  Maybe it was cheesy, but I’d always wanted one of those cute kissing pictures. Phone extended, I closed my eyes and slanted my lips over his, then blindly tapped the screen.

  “Aw,” Finn said. “Our brother’s officially gone off the deep end. Never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Shush and let them enjoy it,” Brooklyn said, and Liam lifted his hand behind me, I suspected to flip off his brother.

  My phone dropped to my lap as I released my grip on it. Later I’d check to see how the photo turned out, but Liam didn’t kiss halfway, and the desire to fully participate won out over trying to take a perfect photo.

  “Good night, you two,” Brooklyn said, and I vaguely noticed everyone filing out of the office.

  Once they were gone, Liam pulled me onto his lap, and I happily went.

  “That was nice how they gave us our space,” I said.

  “No, they just managed to slip out before it was time to clean up the mess.”

  I laughed, and then Liam renewed our make-out session. My breaths became his, I no longer knew where I stopped and he began, and somewhere in the middle of another perfect night with him and another perfect kiss, I wondered what would happen if we could go on like this for a few more months…

  A year…

  Longer.

  Chapter Thirty

  Chelsea

  The last thing I wanted to do today was throw a stupid jewelry party. I’d tried to convince myself that with Liam so busy, it’d be nice to have something to occupy my Saturday, but the problem with telling yourself something you didn’t believe was that your brain acted like a lie detector, buzzing obnoxiously loud with each less-than-true fact.

  Maybe it’ll end up being fun.

  Buzz.

  Maybe this will be the business idea that sticks.

  Buzz.

  Maybe my mom and I will finally have some type of bonding moment…

  No buzz, but not a lot of faith that’d happen, either. I’d love if we could have one semi-good interaction, though, and if there was even a chance, I could suck it up and deal.

  Just as I was about to leave the apartment, George heaved—right on the rug, missing the hardwood by a matter of inches. “Seriously, dude?”

  I quickly cleaned it so Liam wouldn’t have to deal with it when he woke up, and my cell vibrated against my hip as I was washing my hands. I wiped my palms on the thighs of my jeans and pulled my phone out of my pocket.

  “You’re bringing food, right?” Mom said. “Apparently people expect finger foods at parties like this.”

  “Which is why I texted you days ago to remind you to pick some up.”

  “I didn’t get to the store this week. Can’t you grab food on your way?”

  There went another fifty or so dollars. My mouth opened, and I thought maybe I’d had enough practice being assertive to tell her sure, but I’d need reimbursement, only all that came out was, “Sure.”

  “Hurry. The place still needs straightening before people show up.”

  Translation: The house was a mess and I’d end up cleaning.

  “You’d better get started, because if I have to go to the grocery store, we’re going to run out of time.”

  “It shouldn’t take that long to buy a few pre-prepared trays, Chelsea. This is the only thing I’ve asked you to do in the entire month you’ve been here.”

  False, but who was counting.

  Actually, I was. I had less than two weeks left, most of which Liam would spend doing intensive training, and I was wasting one of the precious Saturdays I had left throwing a party with merchandise I couldn’t care less about. Funding it, too.

  “Oh, and can you get a few cases of Diet Coke? Since you’re not here to refill my fountain drink anymore, I guess I’ll make do with cans.”

  How magnanimous of you, Mother. The sliver of hope that I could turn the party into an event I could look back fondly on shaved down to whatever was smaller than a sliver. Sawdust maybe? “I’ll be there shortly. Just please try to clean up a bit before I get there.”

  When I hung up, the prickling on the back of my neck signaled Liam had his intense gaze aimed my way, and with the distraction of the phone call, I wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. I forced an unaffected, casual air into my voice. “Hey, good morning!”

  Either my acting skills needed work or he could read me like a book. Probably both.

  “Where are you rushing off to?” he asked. “I was hoping we could sneak in some chill time today. Maybe spend an hour on the beach. We could play in the waves, then I’d set you up underneath an umbrella to read before taking off for the gym.”

  Lon
ging wrapped around my heart, the threads tight and cutting. That sounded so much better than what my day was going to be filled with. “Oh, well, my mom’s selling jewelry now.”

  He crossed his arms, his way of saying he knew there was a lot more to it.

  “I’m helping her throw one of those parties to get her business going. Didn’t I mention it?”

  Liam’s eyes narrowed. Busted. “What scheme is she peddling now?”

  “It’s not a scheme.”

  His mouth flattened into a line, his doubt as clear as his disapproval.

  “It’s not! People pay her, and she gives them a product. In this case, jewelry, like I said.” I could at least say that about my mom. She never met a get-rich-quick idea she didn’t like, but she’d never swindled people out of their money.

  “Let me rephrase, then,” he said. “Business ventures where only the top tier get rich while most of the salespeople go broke. Let me guess, you fronted her the money to get her started.”

  Offense pinched my gut. “It’s my money. I get to decide what to do with it.”

  “You do. But I bet she gave you a guilt trip and talked you into giving her more.”

  I loved and hated that he knew me so well. Right now, the hate won out, mostly because it also stung. Perhaps she had swindled money from someone—me.

  Liam leaned back against the couch, using the top of it as a seat. “My dad pushes, but at least he’s not manipulative about it.”

  “Hey! Yes, she and I have a rough relationship, but she’s my mom.”

  “It’s nice you remember that, but does she? I got so sick of watching her treat you like shit all the time, and I hoped that staying here would keep you safe from getting guilted into being her unpaid servant.”

  I hugged my arms around my middle. “Is that what I’ll always be to you? The poor girl from next door who needs saving?”

  He pushed off the couch and walked over to me, then he cupped my chin and gently tipped my face up to his. “I don’t think you need saving. I’m trying to protect you from getting hurt. There’s a difference.”

 

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