Silently, privately, we decide that’s enough talking for now. A microscopic part of me wonders if we’re leaving a few castaway stones unturned. But I don’t want to go checking just for the sake of it.
Liam pulls me over his chest, and I fall asleep with his fingers in my hair.
The next day, it’s like I can look at him and finally breathe how I used to. Enough to fill my lungs to the brim. We sneak loaded, loving glances at each other through sound check and family lunch, both of us losing the trails of conversations or asking someone to repeat themselves with an apology and a dopey smile.
On the third morning, we say our goodbyes—Liam and I are headed back to the venue for one more show before road-tripping to St. Louis—and I squeeze Candice, Hailey, Folly, and Harry, whispering how much it meant to me, how deeply I love them all. Everybody’s so effusive with Liam, even knowing what they know, that it only feels genuine.
“Don’t look now,” Folly whispers when it’s her turn, with all the subtlety of a freight train, “but I’m slipping a wad of condoms and a tube of caramel-flavored lube into your purse.”
When Liam and I finally make it to our car, he turns to me and says, “Did Folly also giveyousome condoms?”
I burst out laughing.
But it’s not funny by the time we get to the venue. Liam finds a quiet alcove and sets me gently against the wall, then kisses me within an inch of my life.
We haven’t done this since our first night in town.I’d get greedy, Liam warned me, and now, I see what he means. We’re off in our own universe. Liam’s mouth tugs mine, his movements gentle but purposeful. Our hands are roaming each other, our throats vibrating with needy sounds. Small whines and low groans and whispered nothings likeI missed youandcan we go somewhere private?andyeah, baby, I have keys to the dressing rooms—
“Oi!”
With what seems like every drop of effort, Liam pulls his mouth off my jaw. He catches my eyes, commiserating, his irises swirling like lava-hot chocolate.
Liam’s palm goes past my shoulder to the wall as his upper body twists back. “What, Marlowe?”
“Just thought you’d want to know your boss is here.” Marlowe grins, arms crossing. “Caught him in the parking lot. He’s chatting with the venue manager.”
Liam sighs, head hanging. “Thanks.”
“You got it.”
“Everything okay?” I ask when Marlowe waltzes off.
Liam smiles, brushing a thumb over my lower lip. “Yeah, Bristol, it’s fine. He does this. Drops in on tours like a food safety inspector.” I snort. After a beat he adds, “You deserve better than a dressing room anyway.”
“Liam, we once had sex in your truck bed.”
“If I recall,” he says, eyes going sad, voice softening, “that was thelasttime, wasn’t it?”
I nod, remembering. It was right before his injury, and actually pretty romantic. We hadn’t planned on it, but we’d driven to a big private field to stargaze and made love under them, using an old towel and some clothes as cushioning. We fell asleep out there, only to get roused by an angry farmer at dawn.
“The condoms,” Liam murmurs, pushing his bitten-over lips together. “Do we need them?”
“I’m still on the same birth control from before. And I’ve been tested recently enough, so it’s your call. But also”—a flare of anticipation lights in my chest—“are you sure you’re ready?”
His expression doesn’t change, but his eyes do. They get flinty, somewhat playful. “Areyou? Ready for me?”
My core heats, but I say, “Liam, I’m being serious. I want us to get this right.”
“Has any part of this summer feltwrongto you yet?”
“Only the way we’ve withheld things from the band, but today I’m planning to tell the girls the truth.”
His eyebrows jump. “You sure?”
“Yes. I need this.”
He searches my face. “Do you want me to be there to help explain?”
I give him a small smile. “Thanks for offering, but no. I’m the one who started this. The explanation should come from me.”
