I hadn’t seen him since that night. That amazing, indescribable night. I might even be inclined to believe I had imagined the whole thing—if he hadn’t called me every night since.
We hadn’t been able to make our schedules work for the dinner he’d requested. The team was well into pre-season now and either on the road or playing home games every night except one—Thursday, when I would have to attend the school board meeting to formally approve our new curriculum. We hadn’t even been able to meet up with friends to seeCasablancaas we’d planned because of travel delays with the team—probably a good thing, seeing as it sounded like torture to sit in a dark movie theater with him and our friends and pretend everything was platonic.
Liam hadn’t been happy about our difficulty in meshing schedules, but a part of me wondered if it might not be for the best. It would be so easy for me to get lost in this guy—just like I had a decade ago. I wasn’t at all confident in my ability to keep this entire thing from going much too fast too soon, so maybe a little forced space was just what I needed.
But sitting on that couch, exactly where I’d been when he’d so thoroughly rocked my world, with his low voice in my ear, it was impossible not to wish we’d been able to make the time to see each other.
“Where’d you go, Gracie?”
Just losing myself in fantasies of your body. Your mouth. Your incredibly capable fingers.
Feeling my cheeks flush, and sure he’d be able to tell exactly what I’d been thinking about, I started to babble on about the books we’d been discussing. “So basically, the daemons are an external, physical representation of a person’s soul. Or an extension of the soul, I guess might be more accurate. They take animal shape and they can talk and interact with people and other daemons and?—”
“Gracie,” he interrupted, and I could hear the laughter in his voice. “As sexy as I find you when you’re in nerd mode, I don’t give a fuck about the stupid books.”
“They’re not stupid,” I insisted.
“Sorry, you’re right. Not at all stupid. A world where your soul walks around outside your body as an animal sounds totally reasonable.”
“They’refantasynovels, Liam.”
“I understand that. All I’m saying is that there are quite a few more interesting fantasies that I would rather discuss with you.”
Well, that shut me right up. If I’d thought my cheeks were flushed before, it was nothing to the heat that came to them now.
“Like what?” I managed, wincing at how breathy my voice sounded. Could I make it any more obvious to this guy how much he affected me?
“Like what, exactly, I wish I was doing to you right now.”
“Liam.” There was a plea in my voice but I wasn’t sure if I was begging him to stop or to keep going.
“Hate that I haven’t seen you since that night,” he went on. “Hate that I’m sitting in this fucking hotel room all by myself right now instead of being there with you.”
“I wish you were here, too,” I told him honestly. “I…I’ve missed you this week.”
It was true. I’d tried to stay busy with work and friends, tried not to let myself obsess over him, but he had still been there,front and center, no matter how much I tried to push him into a hidden corner in my mind.
He sighed, and I could feel his frustration crackling down the line. “You sure you can’t get out of your plans on Thursday?”
It scared me a little to realize how quickly I’d cancel on my colleagues if it was at all an option. “No, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said quickly. “I shouldn’t have even asked that. It’s my busy schedule that’s making it so hard to make time.”
“It’s your job, Liam. I understand.”
“Well, the good news,” he continued, sounding a little brighter, “is that Friday night’s game is the end of the pre-season.”
“That’s good news? Won’t the regular season get even busier?”
“Not really. I mean, the travel gets more extensive, but we don’t practice as much once the season starts, and that frees up some time.”
“Well, hopefully we can get our schedules to work out,” I said, not feeling all that hopeful about it.
“Hey,” he said, suddenly excited, “speaking of the season starting, I’ll probably be seeing you on Sunday, right?”
“Sunday?” I asked, searching my brain. What did I have going on Sunday?
“The cookout at your brother’s house. You’re going, right?”
