Page 48 of Gravity of Love
Because that was the thing about Liam—he noticed everything. The smallest shift in her stance, the way her pupils dilated, or her tongue darted out to wet her lips. She was sure he could see the way her chest rose and fell, he could probably hear the blood pumping through her veins. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t, she was held captive in place by the force of him, by the way his presence filled every inch of the room.
It was an impasse, a standoff, but the longer it lasted, the more Frankie realized that this was exactly what she wanted, what she needed. The world faded out, leaving just the two of them and the unbearable tension that existed like a living, breathing thing between them. She felt the urge to laugh, to say something funny to break it, but her tongue felt too big in her mouth. Instead, she just stared back, letting her own need and want show, silently daring him to do something about it.
A shiver ran down her spine, and she realized she was trembling, just a little. She wasn’t scared, not really. She was exhilarated, teetering on the edge of something she couldn’t name. She wondered if he felt it too, if he was just as wound up as she was, or if this was all just another level of his endless self-control.
Then, at the very second she thought she might actually combust from the tension, Liam blinked. It was such a smallmovement, but it felt like the starting gun for a race she’d been waiting her whole life to run.
“I never know what you’re going to say, and I sure as hell don’t know what you’re thinking.” His voice was deep. Deeper than she’d ever heard it before. His baritone voice vibrated through her, like her body was made entirely of harp strings and his voice was the hand brushing along them.
She knew that he’d spoken, but for the life of her, she couldn’t recall the words he’d said. She couldn’t even remember what question she’d asked that had caused the standoff in the first place. All she could do was feel. Trying to piece together the conversation was a task that proved too difficult considering how drunk she was on her hormones. She was DUI-level turned-on tipsy.
He may have spoken first, but if this was conversational chicken, she lost. She wanted answers. She needed answers.
“What happened the night of the funeral?”
His jaw twitched. She could see the regret in his eyes.
“Was it that bad that you had to leave and not speak to me for twelve years?” she asked, desperately needing to clear the air.
“Yes.”
Wow. That wassomuch worse than she’d expected. Tears began to fill her eyes, and she tried to escape, but he dropped his arms and blocked her path.
“Get out of my way,” she demanded. Her emotions were at a tipping point, and she needed desperately to get away from him before she lost all control and her eyes started leaking.
“No,” he refused.
“Yes.” She twisted her body and ducked in a sudden motion. It nearly worked. She managed to slip past him, but she only made it two steps down the hall before his fingers wrapped around her upper arm, and she was spun around so fast it was a blur. When she refocused her vision, she found her back flatagainst the wall, with one of Liam’s hands beside her shoulder and the other gripping her hip, keeping her securely in place.
“You’renotleaving like this.”
“Yes, I am.” She ducked her head, but his hand shifted lower on the wall. A single tear slid down her face as her hands fisted by her sides and she stared up at him. “I have been humiliated enough. Can Ipleasego home?”
She hated begging, but at this point, she would do anything to get away from him and preferably never see him again.
He stared down at her, confusion clouding his eyes. “What? Why would you be…Ifucked up. I shouldneverhave touched you. I’veneverforgiven myself for what I did that night.”
“You?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. If she wasn’t staring at him, she would think he was joking or trying to make her feel better by saying it was him who messed up. But shewaslooking at him, looking into his eyes, and she could see that he actuallybelievedthe bullshit coming out of his mouth. “Have you…all these years?Ikissed you.Icrawled on your lap.Ipulled down my dress. I dry-humped you untilIcame. You never even got off. How didyoufuck up?”
“You were a kid. I shouldn’t have let that happen. I took advantage of you.”
“I was eighteen!” she reminded him. Loudly. “If anyone took advantage of anyone, it wasmetaking advantage ofyou. I was in love with you my entire life, and your mom just died.”
“You what?” His arms dropped to his sides, and he took a step back. His expression went blank. “You were in love with me? Is that…your whole life?”
Fuck. She hadn’t meant to blurt that out. In fact, shereallywished she had a time machine to go back just, oh, thirty seconds and take it back. Should she lie? No. What was the point?
“I guess, yeah, sort of.” She shook her head. “I mean, I thought it was pretty obvious, but if you were really enough of a dumbass to carry around guilt for ‘taking advantage’ of me for all these years, then maybe you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”
His expression remained completely unreadable. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. It was like a wall was up. A curtain had been drawn. His stare felt cold. Detached. She didn’t like it.
“Why did you hide when you saw me in the hospital?”
Fuck it. She figured in for a penny, in for a pound.
“I don’t know, maybe because, the last time I saw you, I fell asleep in your arms thinking that we were…I mean …I didn’t think…but maybe…” She took a deep breath, trying to hold her emotional breakdown at bay. No matter how difficult this was to get out, she had to say it. “That I wasspecialto you. But I woke up, and you were gone. And then I didn’t see you or talk to you for eleven, almost twelve years.” A tear slid down her face, she quickly wiped it away and sniffed. “It fucked me up for a long time. I thought that you regretted what happened with usso muchthat you left and never wanted to see m?—”
“That’s not why?—”
