Page 9 of Break Point
“What?” He laughs, too, grabbing two face masks. “I’ll do yours, and you’ll do mine?”
“I hope you’re not kidding, Liam,” Gemma warns. “If you are tearing one open, you better leave it on for a while. Those are top-quality Korean face masks. I brought them from Seoul.”
Liam and I laugh as he insists on being serious about wearing one, which makes Gemma seem more at ease.
“So … I’ll do yours, and you’ll do mine?” I lean in and give him a quick peck on the lips. He seems surprised because I’m not usually this lovey-dovey with him. Or with anyone, for that matter. But I’m feeling appreciative of him. He’s been patient when I haven’t been the most consistent with my feelings these past few months, but that doesn’t mean I don’t drool whenever I see him. And I’m pretty sure he’s aware of that fun fact about me.
Liam takes note of my eagerness by running a hand behind my neck and softly pressing his lips against mine.
I missed his kisses. And the smell of his fresh and citrusy cologne is driving me crazy.
He stops for a second to look at me, his gaze sliding to my swollen lips. He smiles like he’s the happiest person on Earth. I smile back, allowing myself to reciprocate the gesture.
I groan playfully, my lips almost touching his. He laughs and takes my mouth again. This time, he runs his fingers through my long hair and angles my head back to deepen the kiss, pressing a hand on the small of my back to pull me closer to him. He gets carried away. I let him. A part of me wants to do much more, but we can’t.
It’s hard to find the time to be alone with him. He’s usuallyfilming or traveling for work while I’m constantly on the road, focused on my tennis career. When we do have the opportunity to meet, Robbie acts as the authorized third wheel.
My father hasn’t allowed me to go on a proper date with Liam. He thinks men are a distraction and that I should focus on training, claiming there’ll eventually be time for that further down the road.
Liam is allowed to visit me in my apartment, but only when there’s achaperón.Dad insists he “trusts me,” but he doesn’t trust men, especially when they’re three years older than me and a celebrity actor like Liam.
Since it’s Sunday and Robbie’s in New Jersey, I used Gemma as mychaperona. But I forgot to tell Dad that Liam was coming over, or maybe I chose not to tell him because I couldn’t risk having him say no. I need to relax after the tournament, and Liam’s presence is already doing wonders.
Liam’s hands find their way around my jersey and grab my waist in a way he’s never done before, like heneedsmore of me. I know I’m craving him more than ever. We’ve never done anything other than make out, and Liam’s warm hands against my skin have got me thinking beyond that.
He slowly reclines me against the sofa’s backrest, hooking a finger in the waistband of my biker shorts. I let out a soft whimper, imagining what would come next, right until Gemma clears her throat and drags me out of the fantasy I was beginning to concoct inside my head.
“Get a room! Preferably one I’m not in!” she yells from the open kitchen, followed by a playful snicker.
Gemma!
“We’re not—” I say but cut myself off when Liam laughs against my lips. And I’m sure he’s as unwilling as I am to let go.
“Yeah, yeah,” Gemma mutters to herself. “Your water is going to get cold, and I’m not reheating it for you, so get your feet in there already! If we’re done early, I might find an excuse to leave sooner and let you have the apartment all to yourselves!”
My stomach warms up with expectation. The thought of having the opportunity to be alone with Liam is beyond tempting. Robbie’s a major buzzkill when he’s around, always turning on the TV to whatever sport is in season and offering Liam a beer while they chat, bet, or argue about the game.
Dad trained him well.
“I love it when you get nervous,” he says in a tone reserved for me only, running a finger down my hot cheek. I can’t help but wet my lips as I stare into his. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush for me, and I love it.”
“I’m not nervous.” I bring my lips to his and kiss him again, trying to hide the fact that he’s right, and I’m a little embarrassed about it. I break it off and say, “I’m … excited.”
“Not nearly as much as I am, believe me.”
“Socks off and feet in the water,” Gemma orders, carrying a tray with a few cucumber rounds. Liam and I straighten in our seats as we thump back to reality, and I do as I’m told.
I pull my socks off and dip my feet inside the warm, soapy water, feeling Liam’s gaze still trained on me as I do it. He presses my shoulders against the sofa and tears one of Gemma’s masks open. He carefully adjusts one over my face and leans in afterward so I can do the same for him. We laugh, and I can’t help but snap a silly selfie of us with our masks on.
Gemma joins in on the spa activities, doing her nails after carefully applying a golden face mask.
Hanging out with these two is fun and easy. It’s been a while since I relaxed like this, though I know it’s a temporary oasis since things will go back to normal tomorrow. I need to find a coachanddeal with the mess I made after my public tantrum. I can’t allow any more sponsors to drop me, so it’s best to enjoy the present moment—the calm before the real storm hits.
Liam insists on placing a couple of cucumber rounds over my eyes, and I yield, knowing I should be watching my tape and taking notes instead so I can go through them with my dad tomorrow.
Even if it’s homework, I enjoy watching my tapes and usually obsess over them, but I can’t make myself care. Not when I’m enjoying disconnecting from tennis and training for 24 hours.
I need this. No, Ideservethe freaking break.
