Wicked Heart (Starcrossed #3)(78)

We stare at each other, and I feel like I’m being pulled toward him and pushed away at the same time. So many emotions are twisting through me, I can’t make sense of them all.

“My beautiful Liss.” He steps forward. “Please say you can forgive me. I keep thinking about what will happen when this show ends. Unless I fix things, we’ll go back to our separate lives, me in California and you here, and . . .” He grips his chest. “Fuck. Every time I imagine that, it hurts so much I want to put my fist through a wall.” He clenches and releases his hand, and I can feel his tension filling the space between us. “Ask me to give up a limb and I swear, I’ll find a way to do it. But don’t ask me to live without you anymore. I can’t. I’m so goddamn in love with you, it hurts.”

For so long, I’ve dreamed about Liam Quinn standing in front of me, telling me he loves me. In every single one of those fantasies he looked at me like he is now, with obvious, unashamed love. But fantasies don’t prepare you for reality. Even though I always thought I’d run into his arms, and cover him in kisses, in actual fact there’s more than just him and me to think about. Even if I get past his deception, there’s Angel, and the show, and the millions of fans who will be heartbroken when they hear their idol loves a short, blond stage manager instead of their ethereal goddess of the silver screen.

I wipe my face. “What about the contract? Aren’t you and Angel still bound by it?”

He doesn’t move forward, but it’s clear he wants to. “Screw the contract. I’ve made more money than I ever imagined, and I’m miserable. The only thing I truly want can’t be bought. The studio is welcome to sue me down to my last dollar. As long as I have you, I’ll be the richest man on earth.”

I stare at him as everything he’s just said rumbles around in my brain. On one hand, our situation is so unbelievable I want to laugh, but on the other, the deepest parts of me are whispering that everything finally makes sense. For years I’ve felt wrong. As if I were a stranger in my own life. I’ve always known it was because of him, but I lived in denial. Pretending I wasn’t hollow without him became a way of life. And it seems he was feeling exactly the same way.

Now, we have the opportunity for a second chance, but I have no idea how that would work. His world is full of movie premieres and parties. Beauty and glamor. I spend most of my time in the dark. I’m the person who controls the spotlight, not the one standing in it. In the words of an ancient Chinese proverb, it’s all very well for the bird and the fish to fall in love, but where will they make their home?

“Liss?” When I look at him, there’s real fear in his expression. He’s terrified I’m going to turn him down. He should be. “I understand this is a lot to process, and I know how angry you are with me. And I wouldn’t blame you if you told me to go screw myself and never come near you again. But before you do that, please, just tell me this: Do you believe that I love you?”

“Yes.” I say it without thinking. Maybe that’s the best way to deal with my emotional turmoil. God knows my head and my heart are tying me in knots. Perhaps I should just trust my gut.

I look Liam in the eye. He understands, and his whole posture changes. As if he’s holding himself back from following his instinct to show me how he feels rather than tell me.

He takes a breath before he says, “Okay, then. Million-dollar question: Do you love me?”

He doesn’t breathe for the three seconds it takes me to make up my mind to be honest. “Despite everything, and even though I’d like to hit you right now . . . yes. Very much.”

The moment I say it, he clenches his jaw, and I can tell he’s trying to keep himself together. I know how he feels. This is a turning point for us, and I’m running on so much adrenaline, my skin feels too small for my body.

“Liss,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “I know I have a lot of work to do to make up for how much I’ve hurt you, but . . . do you still want us to be together?”

I have one of those moments where everything other than him retreats into the background and he comes into perfect focus. Beautiful, hopeful Liam.

He swallows hard before continuing. “Think carefully about your answer, because if you say ‘yes’ . . .” He swears quietly under his breath. “If you say ‘yes,’ I will never be dishonest with you again. I will never trust my head over my heart again. And I will finally be able to show you the infinite ways I love you.”

There are several yards between us, but right now, it feels like there’s a steel cable connecting his heart to mine. It’s always been there. But now, I’m able to see it as a blessing rather than a curse.

I take a breath and undo the tie on my robe with trembling hands. The heavy fabric falls open, revealing my distinct lack of underwear.

His eyes widen, and his expression immediately turns ravenous. My body responds with an explosion of goose bumps.

“Yes. I want to be with you. Please. Now.”

He blinks twice before he mutters, “Fuck, yes.” Within seconds he’s crossed the room, and he makes a low, possessive sound as he crushes me against him.

Six years of stifled desire and sexual frustration erupts between us. We devour each other, tongues tasting and sucking. My robe is pushed off my shoulders. His shirt is unbuttoned in record time. Everywhere he touches me, pleasure blooms, lush and bright, and I’m breathless with the power of it. I push him back against the wall, hard. The force of the impact causes a nearby picture frame to crash to the floor. Neither of us spares it a glance. He throws his head back as I cover his chest and stomach with hot kisses, tasting the skin I’ve been able to do nothing but dream about for far too long. His muscles contract in time with his rapid breathing, and he groans when I run my tongue and lips over the delicious planes of his chest. I taste every inch of skin . . . his nipples, his abs. There’s nothing delicate or elegant about what we’re doing. Everything is urgent, hands moving and squeezing, breaths heavy and moans long. We’re so desperate for each other, we’re clumsy and rough.