Page 28 of Broken Desires
“Just lost in thought, nothing interesting,” I reply, offering a grin that feels more like a mask. It used to work on everyone, but my friends have grown too perceptive and unsettlingly; they truly care.
“Okay…” Poppy’s voice trails, her eyes searching mine for more. “We’re still on for tonight, right? Girls’ night?”
The mention of our plans brings a genuine smile to my face. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” And I mean it. It’s our last girls’ night before my dreaded trip home, and I need to get as much positivity as I can.
“Cool. I’m off to grab snacks. Coming?” she asks, pointing at the door.
I shake my head. “Got to work on my special project,” I say, the words leaving a sour taste. “Special project,” my coded term for Liam Ashford. Keeping our casual fling from the girls feels wrong, but Liam and I agreed it’s for the best. Sharing too much could invite complications despite our friends’ best intentions.
After saying goodbye to Poppy, I head out, my thoughts already jumping ahead to Liam’s apartment. The walk there is quick, a familiar path that I’ve come to know well. Despite the unease about our secrecy, the anticipation of seeing him again pushes those concerns to the back of my mind.
As soon as I ring the bell, the door opens, and Liam greets me with that grin that always seems to make everything else melt away, as his happiness is infectious.
He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close for a deep, hard kiss that sends sparks through my every nerve. I can’t suppress a slight wince—not from any leftover discomfort but from the lingering fatigue of last night’s exertions.
“Still feeling the aftermath of our last night together?” The concern in his eyes is unmistakable, mixed with a playful spark that I’ve come to recognize. His eyebrows quirk up in that familiar, teasing manner.
Blushing, I shake my head, meeting his gaze squarely. “Actually, I took a ballet class yesterday. Pushed myself a little too much,” I confess, watching his surprise with a hint of amusement.
“Ballet, huh?” His interest is piqued, eyes sparkling with curiosity and something naughtier. “That explains the flexibility.”
I laugh, leaning into his embrace with a playful nudge. “Yeah, thank the ballet gods for that,” I quip, the air between us charged with an easy, sensual energy.
He chuckles, pulling me closer. “Well, thank you, ballet gods,” he murmurs; the low rumble of his voice against my chest sends a shiver down my spine.
The mood shifts subtly, a mix of teasing and tender curiosity as Liam encourages me to share more. “Tell me about ballet. I want to know what makes you move,” he says, his tone warm and inviting, pulling me to the sofa where a beer and a cocktail are waiting.
Taking a deep breath, I find the words flowing more freely than expected. “I’ve danced since I was little. Ballet was… it was a part of me I cherished,” I start, the memories vivid and bittersweet. “But life happened, and I lost touch with it. Lost a part of myself along the way.”
He listens intently, his gaze never wavering from my lips as I speak, making me feel heard in a way I hadn’t realized I’d missed.
“It’s only recently, with this new chapter of my life—moving here, meeting you—that I’ve started to find that lost part again. Dancing makes me feel alive. It’s like rediscovering who I was meant to be.”
Liam’s hand finds mine, squeezing gently. “I’m glad you’re finding your way back to what you love. It’s… sexy knowing you have this passion. And kinda inspiring.” He pulls me back against him, running his hand up and down the curve of my ass. “Would you dance for me?”
In another universe, I would have loved dancing for him, but not now, not when I know that my moves, while perfectly formed, can’t follow a melody like they once did.
“Maybe, if you’re a good boy,” I tease back, trying to keep the mood light despite my lie. We’re here for the fun parts, not the heavy stuff.
“I plan on being the best,” he quips, giving a playful squeeze before guiding me onto his lap on the sofa, our bodies aligning in an intimacy that feels both exhilarating and comforting.
I run a nail lightly over his shirt, and he sharply inhales as I get close to his nipple. “So, what’s up?”
He leans in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How about we escape to my family’s place in the Caribbean over the break? Imagine a whole week to ourselves.”
“Are you proposing a week-long sexathon?” I joke, though my heart races at the thought. Isn’t this stepping over the line we promised not to cross?
But you’re dying to cross it, aren’t you? My heart pipes in.
I let out a sigh, feeling suddenly deflated on his lap.
“Okay… That’s not quite the enthusiasm I was hoping for, but?—”
“I would love to,” I interrupt, more forcefully than I intend.
He looks puzzled. “You’re sending mixed signals. Not gonna lie.”
I nod earnestly this time. “I do want to, really, but I can’t. I’ve got to face the Caldwell interrogation in California. It’s their quarterly ‘What’s wrong with Vanessa now’ gathering.” I aim for humor, but the bite of my words betrays the real feelings underneath. Liam’s expression shifts to one of genuine concern, making my heart twinge.