Unplugged (Blue Phoenix, #3)(11)

Back at the house, I storm around, unable to believe my peaceful family Christmas has led to practically being accused of child abduction. Screw this.

Following terse exchanges with my parents and sister who are leaving for work, I grab my car keys and leave the house. If I see Cerys again in the mood I’m in, I’ll say something that will really piss her off. If she’s staying all f-ucking Christmas, I need to keep the peace. I could choose to be obnoxious enough to make her leave, but even I’m not that bad.

I drive to Whitesands Bay and walk along the coastal path, watching the churning, grey sea below, comparing it to the crystal blue I left behind in Malibu. Maybe I should’ve stayed and tried to sort things out with Honey instead of coming back to the familiar that’s not so familiar anymore.

Deciding it’s too cold to sit on a nearby bench for long, and that I’m too tired to do much else, I go home. Maybe I’ll go to the pub tonight. Or go and stay at Dylan’s country place until Christmas Eve because I’m not sure I can put up with a week of this before Christmas Day arrives.

When I get home, Ella is in her prime spot in front of the TV and Cerys is asleep on the sofa. Her pale skin and dark-rimmed eyes evidence her hungover state. I did have sympathy for her; but not after the mouthful, she gave me earlier. Looks like it’s siesta time in the house.

I flop onto the useless single bed and stare at the ceiling, playing the conversation last night through my mind. Is that why she was pissy with me this morning? Is this because of what she said last night? I smirk to myself. My little sister’s friend fantasised about me. I get less chicks in Team Liam so I’m not as blasé about attention as Jem and Dylan. There’s something cute about being elevated to hero status by someone who knows me.

Then I picture her naked.

I struggle to remove the image and focus back on the pissed off Cerys who annoyed me. This works for about a minute until a different image of her last night, so close I almost felt her lips on my face. I bet she tastes amazing; she smells incredible. How would her skin feel? An image of Cerys naked in my bed inevitably returns.

This is not good.

I drift to sleep with the fantasies morphing into the kind of dreams that are too real. When I wake up several hours later, my body’s already made the decision. If this woman lets me get my hands on her, I won’t be able to say no.

Illicit, exciting, and maybe a mistake. If Honey can do it, so can I.

CHAPTER 6



LIAM



I sleep into the early afternoon and wake to a growling stomach and a need to back off from Cerys before my overactive imagination causes problems. This includes getting out of the house, so I head downstairs to grab a bite to eat before I embark on the Christmas shopping I’m dreading.

Cerys sits alone at the kitchen table, back to me. I ignore her and rummage around in the fridge for something to eat. There’s leftover shepherd’s pie from last night and my mouth waters at the thought of Mum’s home cooking. Flipping the lid on the plastic container, I shove it into the microwave, catching sight of Cerys as I walk around the table.

Oh shit, she’s crying. Again.

“You okay?” I ask, hoping she says ‘yes’.

“No.”

Ah. Crap. “Anything I can do?”

“No.” This is followed by face crumpling. I don’t want to deal with this, but her red eyes and tear-streaked face pull at a hurt of my own. More than that, I don’t want Cerys to be sad.

“Did something happen?” I ask.

“I’m living with someone else’s family, ruining their Christmas, and I have nowhere else to go.”

“You’re not ruining anyone’s Christmas!” I pull a chair out and sit opposite her. “Mum wouldn’t ask you to stay if she thought that.”

“She just felt sorry for me after Craig kicked me out.”

“Craig? Is he your other half?”

Cerys studies the table intently. “Ella’s dad. Yeah.”

“But how can he kick you out of your own home?”

She wipes her face with the heel of her palm and sniffs. “Easy. He did.”

“Why though? Why would he do that? Can’t you go home and tell him to get the f-uck out instead?”

“I told Craig I wasn’t happy in our relationship and he lost it. He told me to leave and took my keys. I can’t even get in the house anymore.”

“What the f-uck? He made his four year old daughter homeless?”

“He doesn’t care about her anyway...” Cerys heaves in a breath and the sobbing starts again. “She wants to see him for Christmas.” She pushes her phone across the table. “I just tried reasoning with him, waste of f-ucking time.”

I arch an eyebrow at her language but my heart hurts, for Cerys and for her little girl. She doesn’t deserve this. Some f-ucking dad, he is.

“So I’m homeless, jobless, and I can’t figure out what I’m supposed to do. My parents won’t help; they said I brought all this on myself by getting pregnant in the first place and that I need to sort out my own mess.”

Her over-sharing shocks me even more and as her tears continue to flow, my anger at how someone can treat Cerys like this grows. I want to help her. How? I don’t know but the little girl watching TV in the other room needs someone to sort this out.