Page 14 of I Can't Even

When we told Em what the doctor had said, she blinked at us as if uncomprehending. Then she sat on the floor, right in the middle of the kitchen, drawing her knees up to her chest. She looked like she was five instead of twenty-five.

“But I’m not ready,” Em whispered. “I’m not ready to be in a world without her.”

Soph held her while she cried, while they both cried. My world hadn’t had Babs in it for a long time. But I understood. Even I wasn’t ready to see the sun rise without Babs telling it how brightly to shine. It seemed inconceivable.

When she’d calmed down, Em took the early evening shift as Soph was leaving and coming back later since she had an event to attend with her husband. I hadn’t seen her husband Stan since I’d been back. Hannah and Harry had come by a couple of times to see their grandmother and me since I hadn’t seen them since their last visit to New York. Stan hadn’t bothered.

I knew he and Babs had never gotten along, but I would have thought that being a doctor, Stan would take an interest in his mother-in-law’s care. Soph had mumbled something about him feeling that as a dermatologist he couldn’t really be of any help. I would have argued that since Babs refused to tell us what exactly was wrong any medical input would have been welcome, but I sensed it would hurt Soph and, really, we were suffering enough.

As I climbed the stairs to my room to catch up on some work, I wondered if the window across the way would remain dark. I glanced at my phone. It was ten minutes until Liam’s usual work out time, but he’d been absent since our last encounter, so I had no idea if he had decided to work out elsewhere.

Anticipation, or maybe hope, thrummed through me, although judging by its point of origin, it was more likely lust that ricocheted around my insides like a pinball lighting up targets and ringing bells. I forced myself to walk rather than run to my room.

Given that the jig was up, there was no reason not to turn on the light. Still, I stood by the door, debating. Did I flick the lights on and potentially frighten Liam away? Or did I lurk in the dark like a creeper and hope for another eyeful of man candy?

Feeling bold, I snapped on the light. I strode across the room toward the desk, trying not to glance at his window. If he was there, I wanted to appear cool, casual, collected. In other words, the exact opposite of how I felt.

I kept my eyes down, knowing the disappointment of him not being there would be deep. Finally, when I had turned on my computer and futzed around my desk as much as I could, I glanced up.

Liam’s window was dark. I felt myself deflate all the while realizing this really was for the best. Damn it. Using his hotness to distract myself from the familial misery I was drowning in was bad form. I knew that. Still, I longed for the sight of him just like I had longed for dandelion fluff wishes to actually come true when I was a kid.

Just then his light snapped on, and there he was, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, almost as if...as if he’d been waiting for me, too.

My heart did its usual stop-stutter-start thing and I leaned against the desk to keep myself upright. He was shirtless, again, and he didn’t uncross his arms as he stared back at me.

The intensity in his eyes reminded me of the first time we were together, yes, in that way. Liam had held my gaze as he’d slid into me that first time, never looking away, making sure I was okay with every millimeter of me he conquered, never leaving me to find his own release, never letting me go. Instead he had kept his gaze locked on mine, absorbing every bit of emotion I offered and returning it with his own. In all my life I had never felt as powerful a connection as I did in those glorious moments with him.

The memory made my insides clench with longing and not just for the physical but for the soul connection we forged in blood, sweat, and tears. I had never managed to replicate it with anyone else, not once, not ever. How could nine years have passed and with one look he reduced me to a void of desperate aching need?

As I stared, incapable of looking away or moving, he gave me one brusque nod. I raised my eyebrows in question. What did he want? He didn’t make another move but just stood there, patiently waiting for me to figure it out.

With his hot gaze moving all over my body, I caught on pretty quick. Without moving a muscle or saying a word, Liam Mahony made it clear that he expected me to strip for him.

Chapter Five

I sucked in a breath and put my hand on my chest. Not a chance in hell, buddy! Well, that was my first response. My second was to tip my head to the side, considering. Yes, considering.

He mirrored my move and raised one eyebrow at me. It was the same look he used to give me when we were teens and he was daring me to do something, like beat his ass in air hockey, apply to my dream school, Columbia, tackle a curb grind on my skateboard, or admit that I loved him, you know, out loud with words.

I remembered how much bolder and braver Liam had made me. Well, maybe he didn’t make me that so much as he’d loved me enough that it freed me to take risks I never would have taken without him as my landing mat.

If I refused, if I walked away from him right now and snapped out the light, I knew with absolute certainty that I would never see him again. I didn’t think I could live through that a second time. I had no idea what would happen while I was here, but I knew I wanted to try to find some closure with Liam.

I glanced down at my outfit. I was wearing Em’s clothes because I had run out of clean laundry two days ago and laundry just wasn’t a priority for me right now. Since Babs had never stopped being in charge of Em’s wardrobe, it was all high-end dresses, skirts, cardigan sweaters, button-up blouses, and slacks, you know, like a grown up. I missed my jeans and baggy thermal tops, but the blue shrug, white blouse, and Capri pants I had on would work so much better for what I was about to do. Oh, yes, I was all in.

Without overthinking it, I met Liam’s gaze as I reached up and pulled the shrug off my shoulders. I twirled it over my head a few times before launching it across the room. His head jerked upright and even from this far away I could see his entire body stiffen. Obviously, I had surprised him. Good.

I put my hands on my thighs and did a very Marilyn Monroe, maybe more Betty Boop, booty pose. I slowly dragged my right hand up my body, across my abdomen and up to the top button of my shirt. I unbuttoned it and pushed my chest out, trying to use what I had. It was a challenge. I glanced at Liam from under my eyelashes. His jaw was clenching and unclenching and his nostrils were flared. Well, okay then.

It occurred to me as I worked my way down the row of buttons that he might be filming me, planning to put the striptease on the internet to shame me. It would be an epic payback for the humiliation I had dealt him, however unintentional, so many years ago.

The thought made me pause at the last button. If he did that then he wasn’t the man I thought he was, and it sure would be a lot easier to get over whatever this thing was that still sparked between us like an ember in a forgotten fire. I glanced up. He hadn’t moved. Was he even breathing?

I owed him this. With all the pain I had caused him in the wake of my departure, I owed him my trust one more time. I slid my shirt half off my shoulders and turned my back to him. I pulled the tie out of my hair, letting my wild curls loose, and tipped my head so my hair draped down my half naked back before I dropped my shirt.

I was relieved I wasn’t wearing my usual sports bra. This was white and plain but thankfully had a little bit of a peekaboo see-through mesh thing going, keeping it from being too much like something you’d find under a nun’s habit. I thought plain might be the sort of intimate garment nuns would wear, but who knew? Maybe they were all about red satin and leopard print undies hidden beneath their black garb. The thought made me smile and helped with my nerves.

Having dropped the shirt, I glanced over my shoulder to look at Liam, and then I whirled my head around, making my hair stream out in a circular motion like a stripper on the catwalk. Then I turned back around so I was facing him. He had one hand pressed to the window, his palm flat against the glass. Every bit of girl power I’d ever had was surging through me—I felt like a badass.

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