23
I’m living the worst one-hotel room trope ever. I am in the same bed with Liam Darcy. My whole body is attuned to his presence. Every nerve is on high alert. There’s no possible way I can fall asleep. But also, we can’t doanythingwith Cat and Lydia ten feet away. I would not put it past those two to have a camera set up to film us. When I hear Lydia’s soft snores, I sit up and look over at the other bed. Cat is still wide awake, propped up in bed and reading by the light of the lamp on her nightstand. I try my pillow again. But my whole body is wide awake. Liam’s presence is all-consuming, even with his back turned to me and his body edged all the way over to the far end of the bed.
“Liam,” I whisper.
“Yes, Lettie.” His voice saying my name in the dark is better than chocolate.
“I can’t sleep,” I say.
“I noticed.” He rolls onto his back. “You keep flipping your pillow over.”
“Can you blame me? It’s hot in here.”
“Let’s see what I can do.” He climbs out of bed and the room becomes a million times hotter. He’s shirtless. When did he take his shirt off? How did I miss that? And now I am NEVER getting any sleep. Liam Darcy is sleeping next to me shirtless. He walks over to the thermostat and turns down the heat, then brings me a glass of water. He even puts a few ice cubes in it. I’m touched by his thoughtfulness. I take the drink, murmuring thanks and looking anywhere but at his bare chest. I take several long, refreshing gulps.
He slips back into bed, then turns on his side, facing me this time. “Lettie... ?”
“Yes?” I glance over. He hasn’t bothered to pull the cover up, either to torture me or because the room is so hot. Probably both.
“I want to apologize for how I acted earlier.” He sounds concerned. “How I spoke to you when your car slid off the road. It was not okay. I was too harsh. I’m sorry.”
“I get it. I was scared, too.” We speak in hushed whispers. I’m pretty sure Cat has her AirPods in, but we also don’t want to wake Lydia.
“After losing my dad and the whole Noah incident. Well... I worry a lot about losing people.” I reach across the bed and take his hand. This one small gesture feels enormous. “Sometimes,” he continues. “I feel like everyone I care about will be taken from me.”
“It’s hard to see anyone you know in danger,” I say.
“That’s not what I’m saying.” He edges over closer. Through the mattress, I sense his every move. “Today, I was worried about losing you specifically, Lettie—not that I have you.” He mutters the last bit almost as an afterthought.
My heart beats fast. The muted jangle of whatever’s playing in Cat’s AirPods sounds especially loud, along with the flick, flick of her turning the pages in her book.
“You have me,” I whisper.
Liam takes a sharp breath. He slowly lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses it. The touch of his lips on my hand resonates through my whole body. He places my hand on his bare chest, then puts his large, calloused one over mine. Each silent gesture feels right for the occasion, like a vow. I feel his warm skin and the soft hair on his chest and the steady thump of his strong heart.
“And you have me,” he says.
In any other situation, this confession would be followed by a kiss and maybe more. But the presence of two other people in the room holds us back, stretching this moment indefinitely, pausing us in a blissful, torturous state of heightened awareness. Outside, the blizzard rages while we are cocooned in this emotional snow globe, an enchanted bubble of affection, fascination, and intense longing.
We remain like this: my hand on his chest, his hand over mine, both lost for words. The emotion between us swirling, growing, deepening until I cannot bear feeling so much. I have to say something, anything to decrease the tension.
“Tell me about your dad.”
“My dad.” He runs his finger on my hand and down my arm. “Hmm... Let’s see. Did I ever tell you the Pumpkin Hunt was his idea. My mom wanted to take the family to a pumpkin patch. I was six or seven. Anyhow, my dad balked at the entrance fee. No matter how much money he had, he never liked being taken advantage of. He was outraged at the price. For that much money, he said he could grow a whole patch of pumpkins. And that’s exactly what he did.
“The next year, he invited a bunch of friends and colleagues to visit his patch and pick out pumpkins. It was such a huge success that it became a tradition, and since my dad’s birthday is October 19th, we turned it into a birthday celebration. That’s the reason I skipped last year. My mom and Georgie were out of the country. And I couldn’t handle my dad’s birthday on my own. I hid out at our cabin in Tahoe, which was a big mistake because that’s where we always spend Christmas. I couldn’t escape the memories.”
“Liam, I’m sorry.” I think of how I judged him for skipping out on the party and leaving his sick assistant to manage it on her own. I had no idea.
“It’s okay, I mean it’s not. But it feels good to talk about this with someone other than Fitz.”
“I want to hear,” I whisper. “I want to know everything about you.”
“Same,” he says in a low, gruff voice. Even in the dim light, I can see his genuine smile, which looks so good on him. “I want to know everything about you. Tell me about the Benson family Christmas.”
“Okay... ” I let out a soft laugh. “Let’s see, Gretta’s birthday is December 20th. It’s very important that we don’t put up Christmas decorations until the day after her birthday.”
“Really?” He edges closer and pulls me to him. I snuggle up, my back against his bare chest. Liam strokes my hair, sending pleasant sensations through my whole body. I have officially given up on sleep. Though with Cat and Lydia ten feet away, we won’t go any farther. The cuddling and hair strokes already feel scandalous.
