Unplugged (Blue Phoenix, #3)(23)

“Sit in with the parents or get drunk with Louise? It’s not every day I get to watch other people performing.” He winks at me.

“Maybe you could offer to join in?”

Liam laughs and the sound echoes through the quiet streets. “Sure, maybe I’ll get the rest of the guys over and we can give them a carol performance St Davids has never seen before!”

The idea of the spectacle amuses me almost as much as the weird comfort of Liam’s presence. When we were growing up, he wouldn’t give me the time of day, especially as a teen when I was his kid sister’s annoying friend. The three-year age gap was telling back then, but narrowed the night he kissed my star struck seventeen-year-old self. This is reversed today; I’m the one with responsibilities while he’s young and carefree.

“That’s a serious face,” says Liam.

A snowflake drifts down and lands on his beanie. I tip my head to the sky, there’re a few flakes now but the dark clouds signal heavier falls are imminent.

“The serious isn’t far away,” I say quietly.

The soft look of concern in Liam’s green eyes squeezes my heart because Craig never looks at me this way. How can someone who has no comprehension of what my life is like hold understanding and sympathy toward me and my daughter?

Liam’s leather jacket gathers snowflakes that melt as they settle and we remain with the snow falling in the space between us. A flake lands on my mouth, another on my eyelashes. I lick away the snowflake and Liam steps closer. With his index finger, he brushes the snow from my face. His fingers are warm against my cold cheek; and instead of withdrawing, he leaves his palm cupped around my face.

“Lucky snowflakes,” he says.

“Why?”

“They get to kiss your skin.” He looks at my mouth. “Your lips.”

I hitch a breath. Liam should step back and let me go, not rewind my thumping hearted self to summer five years ago. Does he remember the last time we were at the pub together, when I was drinking illegally and thought I was so grown up? I threw myself at Liam that night and would’ve had sex with him if he’d offered. Liam was drunk too and we shared a kiss but no more. The next day he was gone.

Two months later, I was pregnant by Craig and had to grow up fast.

Reinforcing his point, more snowflakes settle onto my cheeks and Liam touches my lips. “You deserve to be covered in a snowstorm of kisses by a man who sees the strength and beauty in you.” The intense emerald eyes drag me further into the moment. “There’s a man who craves the love held in your eyes when you look at your daughter, who wants to pull you into the blizzard and show you how to love yourself by being passionate about everything you are.”

The strange poetry of his words wrap around my heart, melting with the snow on my heating skin. If the only thing hovering in the space between us was the sexual spark, I’d pull a face at his smooth talking, but the Liam I’ve learnt about over the last few days isn’t smooth talking.

“You’re a sweet guy,” I say.

Liam pulls a pained face. “Do you know how insulting that is? Lollipops are sweet, kittens are sweet...”

“No, I think you’ll find kittens are cute.”

“Badass rock stars aren’t sweet!” he continues.

“No, but you’re not a badass rock star, are you?”

“Jeez, you dent my ego more every minute!” His eyes sparkle with amusement and I’m disarmed. He grabs me around the waist and pulls me close, my hips against his and Liam’s mouth against my hair. “What do I need to do to show you I am a badass rock star?”

I pull my head back and look into his eyes, aware of the sensation of the point our bodies connect and nothing more. He moistens his lips. “I’m not sweet, though, Cerys; the thoughts I have about you are far from sweet.”

I place my hands on his chest, against the leather and wish I could run them beneath and feel the muscles I know are hidden there. “I wouldn’t want you to have sweet thoughts about me.”

Liam’s hands roam around to my backside and he tugs me closer, against his lean body. “Believe me, they’re not.”

Our faces touch, his rough cheek against my forehead, and I know if I move my head a few centimetres, our mouths will meet and our worlds will shift.

“Is kissing you still wrong?” I ask.

Liam moves his face. The static charge of our mouths so close and the snow drifting onto our bodies drag us into a surreal world. The shift happens. I slide my cheek along his, the stubble scratching my skin as my lips meet the edge of Liam’s.

The world is covered in white, hidden from reality; a reality that I hate currently. I can escape for an evening, maybe a few days, and allow his blizzard to overwhelm me. If life is the same struggle when everything melts away again, a few moments lost in a fantasy after months of feeling worthless are what I need and worth the consequences.

Liam digs his hand into my hair and crashes his mouth against mine. I gasp in surprise at the force as he delves his tongue into my mouth, sliding it against mine. When Liam kissed me in the bedroom the other day, there was a tension in him where he held back part of himself. Was this because Liam knew I held back too? This time the world falls away completely as we kiss frantically, noses bumping as he pulls me into the snowstorm that is Liam Oliver.

Liam moves to kiss my cheeks, his rough face scrapes against my skin as his hot lips burn into my cool neck. He slides a hand around my waist, beneath my coat and holds me against him; the unexpected feel of his hardened length against my hip shoots hot arousal through me. God, I want this man to touch me.