He shoots me a smoldering look, then gathers my body in a hug. I push against him, slipping my fingers between his back and bag, clinging like a koala. Liam smells of sun and earth and salt. Of the outdoors, of hard work.
His chin rubs back and forth over the top of my head. Neither of us loosens our grip.
Eventually Liam slides his nose toward my ear. “Jump,” he whispers.
In one smooth motion, he drops his bag and scoops me up when I launch into his arms. We hug tighter, more properly—improperly?—with far less space between our torsos. His hands are underneath me, practically palming my underside. I wrap my arms around his neck, settle my chin on his shoulder.
Now I’mactuallyclinging like a koala. “I missed you when you went to Texas,” I whisper.
“Missed you too, Bristol, baby.”
His low, throaty words cause my hips to roll involuntarily.
A few jerky steps, and my back is pressed against the hallway wall. I keep my head locked against his shoulder and neck. Liam pushes his waist into mine, exhaling deep in his throat when there’s no space left for us to erase. Barring clothes, our bodies are joined.
Every nerve ending burns. My brain feels like smoke.
We barely lasted an hour without going here.
“Should I take us back inside?” he rumbles by my ear.
“I don’t—Maybe?”
“Fuck, Paige, I’m filthy.” I know what he means, but I can’t help how my hips roll again, and this time, Liam laughs, but it sounds pained.
“I told you I don’t mind,” I whisper. “I like it.”
His teeth graze the lobe of my ear, and I emit a mortifying gasp.
A few seconds of quiet breathing. While we stand on the edge of a precipice.
“I think I want to hear the song first.”
Liam notices my shoulders stiffen and drops me, stepping back to give me space.
He won’t cross this line with me until Iproveto him that he means something to me, and that is objectively terrifying—because then Liam will be holding all the cards, every one of them.
We could fuck now, and if we did, I’d be able to lie to him afterward about how long I’ve thought of it, about the emotion my brain has assigned to it since the beginning. If we decide in the morning that being intimate is a mistake, we could blame our chemistry on the heat of the moment or exploring the unknown—but only if he hasn’t heard that song.
“Not tonight,” I say.
“Not tonight,” he repeats, our words meaning two things at once.
“You should go ice your body parts.” My eyes dart everywhere except his groin. I push my hair out of my face, take a deep breath. “To stay healthy.”
He stares at me, eyes hungry and quizzical. Eventually Liam stoops to grab his bag and slings it over his shoulder once more.
“See you soon,” he promises, and he walks away.
Chapter 15
July, Now
“The first concert of a tour,” Misha says, a whiskey glaze in her eyes, “is like sex with a brand-new partner.”
Siah snorts, stretched out on the floor. “Explain.”
“There’s chemistry, obviously.” Misha steps away from my armchair and spins around the dressing room in childlike circles. “Mutual interest. But you don’t know how good it will be. You can’t know. Maybe the first night is epic followed by a lackluster performance the next. Maybe it’s a slow build, and you find more of your footing every night thereafter.”
