Liam
I don’t go inside when I get home. Stormy’s still at work, so it’s not like I’m avoiding her. It’s just that call with Jess fucked me up. Got under my skin and into my head, and I hate the feel of it. I don’t want to bring that poison into our home. But it’s right there, the tainted memories rushing at me.
The hotel in Atlanta. The coincidence that was no coincidence at all. The invitation I should have passed up. And a week later… the blindside that left me sick with shame and desperate to leave my mistake behind.
So, I sit in the truck, parked with the engine off, my hands gripping the wheel as I tell myself to shake it off. To focus on the good. On Stormy. To put Jess and my father and everything about that fucked-up situation into a locked safe and bury it in the very darkest corner of my mind.
Eventually, I get it together enough to go upstairs.
My life has changed so much with Stormy in it. She’s opened my heart and broken down my walls. She’s made me feel like I’m actually living. That’s what I need to think about.
So I search out the signs of her in this space we share, the evidence that I’m not alone.
Her mug from this morning. The wood-carved hockey player miniature that showed up on a shelf one day. The envelope with her tickets for tonight’s game. Each reminder calming me more.
It’s game night, and I need to rest.
My alarm sounds when it’s time to start the pre-game routine. I sit up, rubbing my eyes, and reach for my phone.
Skimming the notifications, I see the new text from Jess.
Every part of me rebels as I read her toxic message, once. Twice. Half a dozen times.
Until the realization sets in, no matter how fucking deep I try to bury this ugly past, it’s just going to keep crawling out.
Stormy
It’s a close game. Liam scores on a breakaway in the second period, but it’s not enough to pull ahead. By the third, it’s getting messy, and he ends up in the box twice, though everyone around us says that first one was a bad call.
We’re down by two when the final buzzer sounds. Misty and I start filing in with the crowd, making our way toward the concourse where the locker rooms are located. We’re just clearing security when I get the text from Liam.
“What’s up?” Misty stops beside me, but she keeps pushing to her toes, stretching to see down the hall. Looking for Noel.
“Liam says he’s going to be a while and I should ride back with you guys. If that’s okay?”
“Oh, yeah. Of course— oh, there’s Noel.” Her whole face lights up as she pulls me along.
“I told you not to wait up,” Liam says when he walks in a few hours later.
“I didn’t mind.” I unfold from the couch, going to him the way that’s become habit over the last month, win or lose. “Wanted to see you.”
He wraps his arm around me, pulling me into his side a little stiffly. I almost ask if he’s hurt, but then he wraps me in both arms, holding me so tightly, there’s almost a desperation to it.
I peer up at him. “Hey, are you—”
“Tired,” he volunteers shortly, already stepping away.
I follow him back to our room where he starts stripping off his suit.
There’s a tension in the air, and he’s quiet. But in a way that’s different from the times when we’re quiet together.
Maybe it’s what he said. He’s wiped out. They lost. And he’s feeling it.
Except I’ve seen them lose before. I’ve seen him tired. I’ve seen him have an off-game and a grumpy mood.
This feels different, somehow.
Resting my hand at his back because it’s become impossible for me not to touch him, I ask, “Can I get you anything?”
He stills, almost like he’s wrestling with something. But then he takes my hand for a light squeeze. “Nah, I’m fine. Long day is all.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He leans in and kisses the side of my head before letting me go. “I’m good. Go to bed. I’ll be in later.”
“Okay. Sure.”
I slip into bed a few minutes later. We’ve only been together— living together –a couple of months. And half of it, Liam hasn’t even been here. Of course, there are moods I haven’t seen before. Things I’m not aware of. Everyone needs time to themselves, and the only sanctuary this man had has been overrun by me.
Whatever this is, it’s not worth the anxious knot building low in my chest.
That’s what I tell myself. Only he never comes to bed.
When I get up for work, Liam’s crashed out on the thinking couch.
Not a big deal. People fall asleep like that all the time.
By accident.
Except, the way his phone is propped up against his water on the coffee table with the alarm icon showing in the corner of the otherwise dark screen suggests this was intentional. A choice. One he possibly didn’t want me to know he’d made, or he would have slept in the guest bedroom. So why—
I cut off those thoughts before they can spin out any more and head for the shower, telling myself, It’s nothing.
I wash my hair and blow it dry, securing it in a wide barrette at my neck. Apply the light makeup I wear for work and stare at my reflection in the mirror.
It’s nothing.
I dress in a beige skirt and cream blouse, turn for my jewelry box— And nearly jump out of my skin.
“Liam.” My hand flies to my racing heart and a laugh rises within me before falling flat when I see the way he’s watching me. Crossed arms, jaw tight. Eyes not quite meeting mine.
Or not nothing, then.