Page 62 of Veiled in Brick

He exhaled heavily and stood. “Never mind,” he said with a forced smile. “This is dumb.”

He took the few steps to reach the bathroom door, intending on exiting for me to dress, and I reached for his wrist. His walking ceased, and he turned to glance at me with a gaze that suddenly appeared to be tired.

My tone turned gentle. “Lee.”

His eyelids fluttered closed for one long blink, and he spoke quietly upon opening them. “That,” he flicked his hand that wasn’t captured by my grip toward his kitchen, “was not fucking.”

Our playful moment from before had dissipated entirely as he looked down at me with a dark, almost mournful expression. Guilt swarmed me, for I knew exactly what he meant. I stared at a spot on the floor in his kitchen—the spot on the floor in front of the island where we had gotten to know each other in the biblical sense not long ago. I found myself studying it, for it was curious to me. It looked no different. Our naked bodies hadn’t burned a hole in the wood for everyone to see, but I still couldn’t manage to peel my eyes away from it. In thoroughly examining the ordinary space, I could practically see us sitting there as Liam’s raw vulnerability broke me in two. I could feel his lips on mine. Taste his tongue in my mouth. See his warm eyes staring up at me as I took him inside of me. Hear him come with a sensual moan after I had fallen apart around him.

I cursed my usual crass lingo, for he was right. Whatever we had shared earlier this morning wasn’t fucking. The word was entirely unfitting of our actions, for the recent memory was one of ardent passion that had truly shifted my world on its axis. I was, for lack of a better word, wholly bad at this, though…and any response I had to assure him of my reciprocating emotions on the matter was stuck in my throat.

I stammered, entire words never leaving my mouth, and Liam muttered softly:

“If that’s what you think, we’re on very different pages.”

“Not,” I managed to blurt out quickly. “Not what I think.” I let go of my grasp on his wrist, stretched up on my toes, and tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him to me and placing my lips on his gently. “Not what I think,” I whispered against him, and his shoulders sagged as I kissed him again. “Not what I think.” Our mouths worked against each other’s slowly, I released my hand that was holding my towel to touch his jaw, and the material began to slip off of my body.

Liam reached between us and caught it quickly, keeping it wrapped around my chest, and I felt his lips pull up into a slight smile against mine.

“You need to get dressed before I keep you here,” he murmured.

I returned his smile, but only just. “Lee.”

He looked down and his eyes met mine—his warm, almost carefree gaze had returned.

“Hmm?”

“Wrong word,” I admitted, my lungs still feeling as if they were being constricted as I said, “Really.”

He nodded. “Okay.” He kissed me once more, and stated with a single breath, “Get dressed, Zo’.”

“Are ya gonna call Claire back?”

I chuckled at Liam’s question as we walked down the stairs of the complex and into the afternoon sunlight.

“May let that one stew a bit,” I replied.

Liam nodded knowingly at my response. It wasn’t because Claire was all too eager to hear about any of my current affairs. Okay, that was a little bit of it—but only a little. The main issue practically gnawing at the base of my spine was that my situation with Liam felt incredibly raw. Our platonic friendship had, clearly, been blown to bits as we both fell apart around each other, but what had risen from the ashes of the demolition was something that I knew for a fact neither Liam nor I knew how to digest. And that, in and of itself, was delicate.

Sex, I could talk about. Sex, I could rant about all day, hence my amusement at the fact that our early morning escapade was heard by all. Feelings, however…budding relationships…how do they say it in pig-latin?

Ix-nay. Nix. Cancel. All of the above for the conversation that would leave my soul bleeding on the table. And with the way that the progression of my—God forbid I say it—relationship with Liam had been going, I was bound to be left in such a state because there was something about the man that just…shattered me.

“So,” I spoke once again as we made our way down the street. “Class schedule for today?”

“We are back again to The Exceptional Child and Creativity and the Young Child.” The heel of his shoe scuffed the cobblestones once as he walked. “The nap-worthy ones.”

“Ah,” I voiced. “With, um—Kelsey?”

I didn’t stammer because I had nearly forgotten her, though I hoped that it was portrayed as such. The names of the classes had given me a reminder that there was what I assumed to be a beautiful woman ready to sink to her knees and suck Liam’s cock at the drop of a hat. A woman who knew the taste of his skin—could be accustomed to the feel of his embrace—was aware of the way his muscles clench when he comes. I found myself wondering if she saw the same tender look in his eyes as he fucked her, and the thought made me glare toward my feet as I walked.

“Wow,” Liam whispered in an awe-struck tone. “Look at you.”

I allowed myself a quick glance at him and found him beaming a smile so large that his dimples were fully on display.

I replied, “What about me?”

“Well, you look like you’re ready to kill someone. Or spit on a grave.” He narrowed his eyes as if he were judging my expression. “Or both.” I scoffed, and his attention shifted down to his right pocket. “Oop.” Liam reached for his phone, which was giving off a very loud rattle as it vibrated in his grip, and upon looking at the name on the screen, silenced the call and placed it back in his pocket.

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