Page 44 of Broken Desires
Resignation and something fiercer mix in her expression. “You saw the exchange program applications.” It’s not really a question, more an acknowledgment of the unspoken thoughts between us.
I nod, honest in my admission.
She stands, a sigh escaping her as she moves to pack away her shoes and slip on her sweatpants.
My phone attempts to intrude once more, but I turn it off, stopping any further interruptions—I focus entirely on her.
Turning to face me, her expression is resolute. “Look, don’t make this a bigger deal than it is. I’m not asking for more… I just thought, why not London? But it’s not me asking to extend what we have.”
She tries to pass me, but I block her path, not ready to let this conversation end so abruptly. She avoids my gaze, but I’m patient, willing to wait for her to look at me. If this is how she wants to play it, I’m all in. Because right now, in this dance studio with her, nothing else matters.
The moment she lifts her gaze to mine, her face a canvas of apprehension, my heart tightens. “Do what you need to do, Liam. I won’t make a fuss. So I crossed some line, and now we’re done, right?” The resignation in her voice, the acceptance of an end she believes is inevitable, slices through me.
Hearing “we’re done” from her lips feels like a physical blow, a jolt that awakens a fierce, primal part of me I hadn’t known existed. Inside, a voice rebels with a fierce the hell we are. It’s an instinctual, visceral reaction, a refusal to accept an end to what’s between us.
“It’s not like w?—”
Before she can finish her sentence, my actions speak louder than any words can. The flowers drop to the floor before I cup her face and steal her words with a kiss. It’s possessive, demanding, a claim. I bite her lower lip gently, exploring the familiar taste of honey and cinnamon reminiscent of her favored concoctions, which floods my senses. It’s a sweetness I find myself craving, an addiction not just to the flavor but to the essence of her.
The intensity of the moment lingers as we part, our breaths mingling in the space between us. “Does that kiss feel like a goodbye to you?” I ask, the words barely a whisper between us.
“It might,” she replies, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
“No, wild rose,” I assert firmly, “this isn’t goodbye. But there’s something about me you need to know before you even think about an exchange program to England or anywhere else.” The mention of Denmark hangs silently in the air. “There are things you need to understand.”
She looks at me with curiosity but there’s remaining wariness I know she can’t really shake off.
Her eyes also hold a shadow of caution I know all too well. “Okay, dinner then. But I need to go home and shower first.”
I can’t help but see through her, remembering how she used avoidance as a shield after our return from her parents’ place. The tension that still clings to her tells me she might consider skipping out on our dinner. Not this time. “Why not shower at my place?” I suggest. “You’ve always said how much you love the shower there. Plus, you’ve got clothes at mine.”
When I gave her a drawer a few weeks back, after she spent the entire weekend, it was a small gesture that unexpectedly filled me with a deep sense of contentment, especially seeing her toothbrush next to mine.
“No, I…” She hesitates, and I know I’ve caught her in her contemplation of escape.
“What if I make you an offer you can’t refuse?” I amend, smiling. “I promise to join you in the shower, pamper you, and give you that scalp massage you love so much.”
Her laugh, surprised and genuine, breaks through the last of her hesitation. “You drive a hard bargain,” she admits, her wariness dissolving into amusement. “Alright, lover boy, let’s go.” Her agreement, laced with a hint of playfulness, reassures me that we’re moving forward together, at least for now.
Upon entering the house, we head straight for the bedroom, eager for the shower, but my gaze immediately falls on the game book lying on my desk. “Shit!” escapes me before I can censor myself.
“What’s wrong?” Nessa asks, concern quickly replacing the anticipation in her eyes.
“I forgot to return the playbook to the coach,” I explain, frustration edging my words.
She offers me an out. “Go return it. I’ll take a rain check on the shower. I’ll take it alone and wait for you.”
I give her a quick kiss, “I’ll be back as fast as I can,” I promise.
Luck is on my side when I see Ethan and Poppy pulling into the driveway as I exit. Holding up the playbook, I ask for a favor. “Could you drop this off to the coach for me?”
Ethan looks at me skeptically. “You want me to run this to the coach because…?”
“Nessa’s waiting for me naked in the shower, and besides, as the next captain, you’ll have these duties too,” I say, letting slip more than I intended.
“Future captain?” His interest piques, even if I’ve revealed too much.
Realizing my slip, I offer a compromise. “I’ll owe you one.”