I collect experiences on most people’s bucket lists with some of the jobs I take on, eating at Michelin starred restaurants, or being flown to destination weddings, but I don’t ever feel like myself there. I’m playing a perfectly-planned role that I know I can shrug out of when all is said and done.
This. Knowing Liam, Liam knowing me. It takes away that cloak of protection, but also allows me to feel closer to the action.From the start, he saw a version of me in that cab that was raw and uncontained. And I’m trying to wrap my head around if I love it, or if it terrifies me.
An almost sad smile claims her mouth as her eyes glisten. “You’re such a hard worker that I worry about you putting too much pressure on yourself. After what happened with your father, you took on so much responsibility and you’ve built such a wonderful life, and you’re just getting started.”
My chest aches. I try my best to hide any of my exhaustion from her, but she knows me too well.
A text notification pops up on the top of my screen and I bite down on a smile.
“He’s outside. I should go,” I say.
“Havefun; you look great. If any of the fashion people give you shit, send them to me.”
I nearly roll my eyes. “Yes, I will book them a one-way trip to Europe for you to set the record straight.”
She hangs up mid-laugh.
It takes another minute to wrestle my foot into my knee-high boots. A knock comes from the door and I hobble through the living room to answer it as I attempt to pull the zipper up my calf.
Opening it, I find Liam. Under his gray wool coat he’s wearing a black turtleneck that only serves to accentuate the sharp cut of his jaw, paired with burgundy trousers.
“Umm your neighbor let me in the building, I hope that’s okay?” he says, a bit breathless.
“Stairs get to you again?”
“Yeah. The stairs.” He nods, but his focus seems somewhere else—on me. “Wow. You look great.”
“Same to you.”
“Just . . .” He scrapes a hand through his styled hair, sending it into its usual state of disarray. I think I prefer him this way—just a little undone. “Wow.”
Just. Wow.
The two words burrow somewhere deep in me. Swirling in my veins and taking a trip through the chambers of my heart.
“Let me grab my coat and I’ll be ready to go.” I swallow and wait a second before moving, inviting the moment to stretch.
I dip back inside with the door still hanging wide and I select a long tan wool coat that I tug around my shoulders. The key sticks in the lock as I jimmy it shut.
When I turn around, Liam’s eyes are still on me.
“May I?” he asks, lifting a hand.
“Sure.” Though I’m not particularly certain what I’m agreeing too.
He reaches out, fingers slipping under my collar, as he flicks my hair free so it brushes over the tops of my shoulders. His hand lingers for a moment longer than needed, fingertips grazing over the exposed ridge of my collarbone.
“Thanks.” I step back as I’m flushed with heat. I forgot how hot this coat can be when I’m not outside. “Let’s get going; I wouldn’t want to be late.”
On the way there, Liam explains that Fallon asks the staff each year if they’d rather have the annual party at an upscale venue, or for her to put the funds toward staff bonuses and host it at the office. Because the staff ofSpitfirehas basic common sense, as the elevator chimes, we walk out and past a familiar reception desk.
Still, the office has transformed. The islands of desks and computers have been pushed aside, and a karaoke corner has been set up, as well as a fully-stocked bar.
I grab a loaded plate from the catering dishes and start to look for a place to sit. Beside me, Liam stands, stuck in place, eyes darting around. Someone comes up to him and they exchange quick hellos. Liam visibly stiffens at the exchange.
I lightly touch his arm to get his attention. “Hey, let’s go eat in one of the conference rooms; the party will still be here when we’re done.”
Relief washes over Liam’s face. “You’re sure?”
