Page 65 of Unplugged

I fight against the desire to shift closer to him, knowing he’ll put his arm around me. I’m behaving like a silly teen again, and I doubt that’s behaviour Liam is used to. Or maybe he is.

Shortly after the girl’s abrupt entrance and exit, the sound of people setting up the band equipment on the nearby stage crashes over the low music playing. Other new arrivals trickle into the bar area. They’re dressed down as if they threw on any clothes they found on their bedroom floor, but everyone appears more alike than the individual look they want. Nobody pays attention to us as Liam blends into the scene around him. When he pulls out his phone and sends a text, I use the moment to surreptitiously check my phone for texts from Phoebe.

is displayed on my screen.

Typical Phoebe.

“They’re running late,” says Liam, interrupting my considered response to Phoebe.

When an awkward silence joins us, I decide I need a drink. Even though I’m comfortable around the St Davids Liam, he’s still Liam Oliver from Blue Phoenix and I’m a fish out of water in this venue. Liam returns to the bar and while he’s there a girl with long brown hair and a short skirt approaches and chats to him. Behind my bristling jealousy, I’m curious how Liam handles his fame. I know he isn’t at the forefront in the way Dylan and Jem are, but there’ll be others like me who prefer the quieter bass player to the egotistical pair.

When Liam returns with my vodka and tonic, he’s laughing to himself.

“What’s wrong?” I ask as he sets my drink on the table.

“That girl wanted to know if the rest of the band would be here tonight.”

“Isn’t Liam Oliver enough for her?”

“I told her Jem would and that seemed to brighten her evening.”

I giggle as he sits. “Oh well, you’ll have to make do with me, if the groupies are rejecting you.”

Liam catches me unaware by taking my chin in his hand and tugging my face toward his. “Make do?” He brushes his lips against mine. “I want everyone to know I’m with you.”

Liam’s hand remains under my chin, lips hovering close to mine. The slight taste of his kiss and the rough scrape from his skin takes over and flares my body to life. I can’t start kissing Liam, not here. He pushes my hair from my face, fingers grazing heat before he hesitantly places his mouth on mine again. I duck my head.

“Hey, Cherry Pie,” calls a voice.

I groan inwardly. There’s only one person who ever calls me that. I fail to see how Bryn can turn Cerys, pronounced Ker-iss, into ‘cherry’ or ‘pie’ but he managed. One night around eight years ago, when Bryn and the others were high in Liam’s room, he formulated the name and it stuck. Should I be flattered that he remembers?

Bryn stands at the edge of the table, arms open in greeting. “Long time, no see. I hear you have a kid now.”

I hesitate before standing; Bryn is no longer an old friend but a famous guy I once knew. He’s also broader and several inches taller than Liam, and if I didn’t know him, he’d intimidate me. Bryn squashes me to his chest in a bone-crushing hug, brown curls tickling my face. I extricate myself from his enthusiasm and he stands back, sweeping a gaze over me.

“You’re all grown up, Cerys.” He raises a suggestive eyebrow at Liam before dragging a stool out and sitting.

I sit too and Liam places his hand over mine, under the table, and squeezes. “Is Jem here?” asks Liam.

“Yup. This is his little project. I think he’s with the band trying to keep his hands off the lead singer.”

Liam snorts. “Of course he is. Are you staying at his place still?”

“Yeah, chief babysitter.”

“Don’t let Jem hear you say that,” Liam replies.

“He asked me to stay with him and he knows that’s what I think about my role. At least he’s clean since he left rehab.”

“Yeah?” Liam pulls an impressed face.

“I worry about him being in this scene around others drinking and drugging, but he seems okay.”

“Is Dylan coming?” Liam asks.

“Nah. I think him and Sky are in Asia currently. Or Australia, I’m not sure. I can’t keep track, and Dylan’s pretty cagey about people knowing their plans.”

“What you mean is he doesn’t want Steve to know,” says Liam.

“Come on, you know Steve’s backed off on the micromanaging while we have time out.”

“Hmm. For now.”

As they switch to chatting about Liam’s work with a band I haven’t heard of, and discussing the merits of fellow musicians, I switch off and attempt to convince myself this is real. Am I honestly sitting in a club with Liam, away from motherhood and mundanity? Liam’s hand remains protectively around mine, and I’m in the middle of a dream I once had. Liam Oliver wants me.

Another group walks into the empty pub, attempting not to stare at us, but when one of the guys orders at the bar, the two girls he’s with fight against gawking at us. I switch my focus to the glass in front of me.

“We’ll need to head into the back room soon,” says Bryn. “Too many people here now. Once the band starts we can come back through to the bar, but I don’t want the hassle right now.”

“Sure. Cerys?” Liam stands and picks up our drinks.

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