Page 116 of Fix Them Up
He shook his head. ‘You are something else, you know that?’
‘What do you mean?’
Liam didn’t explain; he launched himself at me, and I made an unladylike squeal as his weight came on top of me. He kissed me, hard and fast.
‘As much as I love this,’ I said, giving his bum a swat, ‘you’ve given me a new hyperfixation. I need to google stuff for Abi’s room.’
Liam laughed. ‘Day by day, Red. Let’s take it day by day.’
‘Okay.’
He kissed me and pulled me under the covers.
*
‘Coffee?’ Liam asked, barefoot in the kitchen after we’d finally got dressed. I insisted that we dress in separate rooms to keep our hands off each other after several failed attempts. Liam certainly had stamina, which was impressive for someone who hadn’t had any action in a long time.
‘Yes, please,’ I said, smiling, no, not smiling. Fucking beaming.
It was ridiculous.
I came around the island, not able to spend time not touching him. He pulled my arms around his waist, my cheek pressed against his back. A few weeks with this man, and I’d turned into some needy barnacle, clinging to him while he made my coffee.
Pathetic.
I loved it.
He leaned to the cupboard above, taking me with him, and pulled out some caramel syrup.
‘I got this for you,’ he said, half turning around with a wry smile.
‘You noticed,’ I said. We’d got drive-through coffee once. Only once. And I’d ordered a caramel latte because the option was there.
I felt Liam shrug. ‘It’s been hard not to notice you, Red. Even when I tried my best not to.’
My heart burst, and I planted a kiss on his shoulder as he poured some syrup into my coffee, stirred it, and then turned around, handing me the mug. I reluctantly let him go and replaced him with coffee.
A fair trade, just about.
I took a sip and hummed. ‘It’s really good.’
Liam smiled. ‘Good.’
We looked at each other, and I could tell we thought the same thing. How normal and natural this felt. Waking up in the same house and making coffee.
I loved him. I realised it then. I loved him and this mad town. I was really going to do it. Not run and hide like I usually did. Or doubt myself. I was going to do it.
The doorbell sounded.
Our heads whipped around at the sound.
‘Abigail?’
Liam shook his head. ‘She’s at this music weekend with school.’
My phone buzzed – a text from Lydia.
Lydia: Your mum came by the house. I’m sorry, I tried to keep her away, but she was insistent.
