Until We're More

by Cindi Madsen

  “Well, I don’t exactly feel not-hurt right now.”

  He sighed and ran his fingers down my arm, and when he reached my hand, he squeezed. “Fine. Do whatever you want with your mom. I’ll be here to…”

  “To what?” I asked, although I could probably fill in the rest. To pick up the pieces and try to put them back together.

  “I’ll be here,” he said, his eyes locking on mine. “No matter what.”

  Damn, that made it hard to stay mad, although my pride still stung.

  He lifted his hands in the classic surrender pose. “I don’t want to be in a fight. Shortly before you moved to Colorado, you had that breakdown about your mom. You said you realized you needed to stop enabling her, but you didn’t know how, and you weren’t sure you could follow through, so you’d just end up being Cinderella for the rest of your life. Without the pumpkin or the talking mice, I believe you added.”

  He didn’t just believe. He knew. One thing he’d always done was listen, better than anyone else. “All true.”

  “You always think it’ll be different or that something will finally change, but it won’t. She’ll take and take, Chels. I know you’re leaving in a few weeks, but don’t let her take too much.”

  Resolve set my chin, and I ticked it a notch higher. “I can be strong. I’ve had assertive training now.”

  A sad smile ghosted across his lips. “Yeah, baby. You’re right.” He slid his hands over my hips and hooked them behind my waist. “But we both know that your heart is too big for a couple assertive lessons to keep you safe when it comes to your family. So you go deal with your mom, then next weekend when my mom’s in town for Brooklyn’s art show, we’ll deal with mine. After we survive, we can compare notes.” His eyebrows drew together. “Unless… Did you need me to come with you? To run interference, or help”—he wrinkled his nose—“sell jewelry?”

  I could just picture him holding up the jewelry—women would be practically tackling one another to buy the pieces from him before anyone else could. But I couldn’t put him in that position. “I know you have a ton to do at the gym.”

  “I do.”

  I placed my hand on the center of his chest. “I’ll call if I need you.”

  He covered my hand with his, holding it over the spot his heart steadily beat against my palm. “You know I’ll come.”

  “I do.”

  He smiled, silently telling me he’d caught the way I’d purposely echoed his words.

  The strings in my heart tugged, and I wasn’t sure whether to put this in the pro or con column. Over the past few days, I’d been thinking a lot about what I wanted, and I couldn’t stop wondering what would happen if I didn’t go back to Denver. If I stayed in San Diego, I would inevitably enable my mom and get sucked into whatever guilt trip she cooked up for me. But Liam knew that about me, and he’d be here to talk me down. Even if it ruffled my feathers and hurt my feelings a pinch when he did.

  Except… What if he got fed up with having to constantly do that? What if it caused a strain on our relationship? What if I gave up everything I’d worked for the past several months and we couldn’t make it work and we broke up? What if I regretted staying and it ate away at what we had until we weren’t even friends?

  Panic-laced breaths came faster and faster.

  “Chelsea? Are you okay?”

  Big breath in, big breath out. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

  “Overthinking?”

  “Maybe. One problem at a time, right?”

  His smile still seemed too sad, and my body took that in and amplified the emotion until it pressed heavily against my lungs. “That usually works best,” he said. Was that resignation in his tone? Like he was accepting we were a hopeless mess?

  One problem at a time; one problem at a time…

  “Well, according to that call, my first problem of the day will see me now.” I tipped onto my toes to kiss him, and even though I told myself this wasn’t an unfixable problem and every couple had disagreements and sore spots, I still had to force back the urge to cry as I climbed into the car.

  Silver lining? If I ended up crying through the entire event, it’d somehow ended up my party, so I could cry if I wanted to.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chelsea

  By the time I arrived back at the apartment that evening, I was tired, peopled out, and wearing the “free” necklace I’d gotten for buying a certain amount of jewelry.

  There hadn’t been any mother-daughter bonding, and by the end of the party, mostly what I felt was used, with a side of hopelessness that things would ever change.

  Between the startup money, the food, and the order I’d put in to help Mom reach the goal that would earn her free jewelry perks, I was out a couple hundred dollars. A couple hundred dollars I definitely hadn’t had to spare.

  I should probably add a maid fee in there, too. How much did two hours of deep cleaning and two more post-party go for these days? Mom claimed to have straightened, and she probably had, but it’d been filthy with years of neglect that seemed magnified by the thought of other people seeing the house in that condition. So I’d rolled up my sleeves—so to speak, since I’d worn short sleeves—and gone to work.

  After living with Mom most of my life, I considered myself fairly clean, but Liam was, like, hygienically, hospital-level clean, and now I noticed my messes everywhere I looked around his apartment.

  My collection of mugs with dried-up teabags dotted the side table and coffee table. I gathered them and cleaned them out, scrubbed the kitchen, and mopped. Most of my messiness came from a sort of rebellion. As in no one forced me to do all the cleaning, so I gave myself a break, without letting it get to the yucky, actual dirt and food crumbs state. But after the layer of ick I’d cleaned today, I resolved to do better.

  In a way, scrubbing down the apartment was cathartic.

  Something I could control.

  A good distraction from the other thoughts going through my head, ones about whether Liam and I could really make it in the long run. Part of my heart would always be his, but how did he feel about me?

  Protective, sure. And yeah, he enjoyed having sex with me—at least I knew that much.

  But did he see us as an actual couple? One who’d still be together weeks, months, a year from now?

  My own family only wanted me if I did enough for them, and Liam had claimed that was part of my issue. Why I always had a hard time believing people wanted me. Undoubtedly, it contributed.

  But if I went back to Denver, where I could more easily escape the issues that arose whenever I was around my mom, had an apartment and a steady job—one with a potential advancement and a pay bump—did he love me enough to try to make it work anyway? Or was it a convenience thing?

  Ugh, ugh, ugh. “Out, damned spot. Out.” I wouldn’t be driven insane by guilt over a murder. No, my insanity would come because I’d crossed lines with my best friend.

  Hands gripped my shoulders, and I jumped and turned around, wielding the scratchy end of the sponge like a weapon.

  “Please don’t hurt me,” Liam said, mockery dripping from the words. “I have a cat to take care of.”

  “A cat? That’s what you’re going with?”

  “I assessed the threat and what might convince you to take it easy on me.”

  I slowly lowered the sponge. “Cat was a good bet.”

  “Not a bet.” His gaze skimmed every clean, sparkly surface. “It went that badly, huh?”

  The sponge hit the sink with a wet thwack, and I peeled the gloves off my hands, washed the latex scent off them, and dried them on a paper towel. A tight band formed around my chest. I needed to come clean. Tell him he was right and do my best not to let show how much that hurt my feelings.

  I slowly lifted the clunky necklace that I wouldn’t usually be caught dead in, even if someone paid me to wear it. “You were right. I bought a bunch of jewelry I don’t want, and I’m an enabler and…” I shrugged, and tears clogged my throat. My m
om only cares about me when she wants something, and I’m useless to stop it.

  I tried to steel myself for what would inevitably follow. Him saying that I needed to be stronger and my assertive lessons were far from over, and that it was a good thing I was leaving in a couple weeks. That one would hurt the worst.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s why I love you.”

  Everything inside me froze, my body forgetting how to function all at once. He’d frozen, too—I looked for the steady rise and fall of his chest, but he wasn’t breathing, and I realized my emotions were getting the best of me. Of course he hadn’t meant it like that. “Don’t worry. I know it’s just a common phrase. Something people say just to say.”

  He braced his hands on the counter on either side of me, bringing us eye level. “Have I ever been big on common phrases? Said things just to say them?”

  Swallowing became impossible, so I gave up on it and spoke past the dam I’d erected in an attempt to stop the tears. “No.”

  The muscles in his arms and shoulders flexed as he leaned closer, his mouth a mere breath from mine. “I.” He brushed his lips over mine. “Love.” Another drag. “You.”

  My heart took off on a high-speed chase, nothing to catch but the next accelerated beat. “I need you to be crystal clear here for a second.”

  Amusement danced across the curve of the mouth I’d longingly studied countless times before finally getting a taste. The same mouth that’d spoken assurances to me through the years when I’d needed them most, and the very same one that’d brought me to orgasm countless times.

  Desire swirled into the mix of emotions, screaming louder than the others and sending the temperature in the room to incendiary.

  “I had no idea I wasn’t being clear,” he said, his voice intoxicatingly low and deep and uhn. Who needed clarity?

  Wait. That was me—I needed it. This was important, even if I couldn’t fully recall why right now. Just a few seconds of clarity, then I’d give my brain the night off and let my body take the reins. “There’s a difference between loving someone and being in love with someone, and I’d hate to assume one thing when really it was the other, and—”

  Liam captured my mouth with his, parting my lips with his tongue and thrusting it inside to conquer mine. He boosted me onto the counter, wedging himself between my thighs and curling his hand around the side of my neck. He broke the kiss and traced my jaw with his thumb. “I love you, Chelsea Jessop, and I’m in love with you, too.”

  I grabbed his shirt and twisted it in my fist, holding him close—not like he couldn’t get away if he tried, but luckily he wasn’t trying. “So, all the love?”

  His territorial smile echoed deep inside me, fueling the liquid-hot need coursing through my veins until it filled every inch of me. “Every single part of it.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Liam

  All day I’d thought about Chelsea. Worried about her with her mom. Wished I could change their relationship for her. But I’d also thought about what she’d said. It was her mom, and really, the only family she had. My family had plenty of issues, and we accepted each other anyway.

  What Chelsea needed was to know that I accepted her for her. Honestly, I wouldn’t change a thing. I’d meant what I’d said. Her big heart, her optimism—everything that made her who she was—contributed to why I loved her so damn much.

  She reached up and ran her fingers through my hair, dragging her nails across my scalp in that way that made me crazy. Then her big brown eyes locked on to mine, so unguarded that I knew what she was going to say, yet I couldn’t wait to hear the actual words. “I love you, too. I’ve loved you for years, and then I accidentally fell a little bit in love with you, which was part of why I moved away. I didn’t think I could have you the way I wanted. And now I fell in love with you a lot bit.”

  Happiness spread through every inch of me. “Hmm. I think I better ask my human dictionary if ‘a lot bit’ is possible.”

  “A bit is a unit of measurement, and if quite a bit can mean a fairly large amount, it stands to reason that a lot bit is even bigger.”

  Putting on my most thoughtful expression, I nodded. “Okay. I’ll allow it.”

  She laughed, and man, I loved her laugh. She tugged me to her and kissed me. “I love you, Liam Roth.”

  I was going to tease her and ask her to further clarify, but then she touched her tongue to mine and arched against me, and I decided it was time to get to what I did best. Letting her do the talking while I listened and expressed myself in other ways.

  Hooking my thumbs on her shirt, I yanked the fabric off and over her head and flung it aside. I reached around her, my fingers itching to rid her of the bra, while at the same time she reached for my shirt, and we crashed in the middle.

  “Cockblocked by my own girlfriend,” I said.

  That beautiful smile of hers curved her intoxicating lips. “I like it when you call me your girlfriend.”

  “Noted.” I helped her take off my shirt to hurry the process.

  “Might as well get rid of these, too.” She pushed down my warm-up pants, and I kicked them aside and then refocused on unhooking her bra. As soon as it came loose, I gripped the little bow between the cups in my fist and ripped it off her. This past week I’d always started off sweeter, not wanting to hurt her, but we’d played it safe for long enough. She was far from virgin territory now, and tonight I wanted no-holds-barred, devour-each-other sex.

  Her pants came down with a rough jerk and joined the pile of clothes on the floor.

  I sucked one of her nipples into my mouth as I yanked her hips to mine and rocked against her. Her gasp fueled me on, and I bit down and dragged my teeth over the sensitive pink nub.

  “Fuck, that feels good,” she said, and hearing that word from her lips shocked me enough I pulled back and looked at her. She didn’t swear much anyway, but I didn’t think I’d ever heard her say fuck before.

  Her cheeks flushed, but she locked her ankles behind me and rolled her hips. “Did I tell you to stop?”

  “I’ve created a monster,” I said.

  “Yes, you have. Now you’ve got to feed her.”

  Eyes locked on hers, I slowly dipped my head and circled her other nipple with my tongue. Then I sucked it into my mouth and repeated the move with my teeth. Holy shit, I could feel her damp heat against my hard cock, the silk a barely there barrier that I couldn’t wait to breech.

  Once I’d teased her into a panting frenzy, I pulled her off the counter and spun her around. I snagged my wallet and took out a condom. When she glanced over her shoulder, I told her to brace her hands on the counter.

  She obeyed, and I pressed against her ass as I slipped my fingers down into her panties, finding her nice and wet for me.

  “Liam,” she whimpered.

  “Tell me what you want.”

  “You. I just want you.”

  My heart flooded with desire and affection, pumping it through my body until it filled every single inch of me. I wrapped one hand around her neck, lightly squeezing as I stroked her, listening to each whimper, cataloging the way she moved so I could tell exactly where and how hard.

  Getting the condom on one-handed was tricky, but I managed. Then I tugged down her panties and pushed inside her.

  My balls tightened within a few rough pumps, ready for release way too soon.

  I’d thought I wanted her this way, but I found I missed peering into her eyes. Missed watching the pleasure play across her features as her lids drifted half-closed and her mouth fell open. Not only did I love this girl, I’d lost my head over her. Common sense had no place anymore, so I didn’t bother thinking about it.

  I spun her against the nearest wall. She was too short for us to line up right, so I boosted her into my arms, and she locked her ankles behind me. Then I got what I wanted—a front-row seat to watching the ecstasy flicker across her face as I drove into her again and again.

  Sweat slickened our bodies, and my control
wavered, but I wouldn’t let go until she did. Her nails dug into my skin and then she cried out, bucking against me. I thrust one more time and clung to her as I rode the euphoric wave all the way down.

  “Every time I think it can’t get better,” Chelsea said through her shaky breaths. “And then it does.”

  Since I still couldn’t speak, I nodded.

  Chelsea kissed me square on the mouth before sliding down me. “Well, I worked up quite an appetite. I was trying to be good, since you’re off sugar and all things delicious right now, but sex that amazing calls for ice cream.”

  As if I wasn’t already gone enough for the girl, she flashed me a ridiculously sexy yet sweet smile and pulled on my T-shirt. It sent a mine sensation through me and gave me ideas about having her on the sidelines cheering for me as I won my fight.

  She pulled a carton of Neapolitan out of the freezer and then reached inside the fridge. “So you don’t feel too picked on, I bought you strawberries and this coconut whipped cream that’s supposed to be healthy and delicious, if that’s something that truly exists.”

  Yep, she was officially perfect in every way. No other girl had understood the fighter lifestyle the way she did.

  We took our dessert to the couch, where we cuddled and kissed and did the type of mushy stuff I never thought I’d do.

  Talked for hours.

  Laughed until my stomach hurt like I’d done a serious abs workout.

  Kissed between words.

  Exchanged I love yous over and over.

  Then the best and yet most dangerous…

  Surrendered my happiness to hope.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chelsea

  Each day, as I fell that much harder for Liam, the idea of leaving and going back to Denver sent more and more grief and panic through me. Finally we’d crossed lines and we had something amazing, and I had a feeling if we had more time, it’d surpass amazing and maybe tiptoe into forever territory.