Unplugged (Blue Phoenix, #3)(40)

“She cheated on you!” I blurt.

“Yeah, I know. That’s the point I realised her self-esteem was zero and more than insecurity. If I was away from Honey, she’d freak out and accuse me of seeing other girls. She claims she started the affair with Mason because I was neglecting her on the tour; because she thought I didn’t love her. Maybe Honey’s half-right. Things were getting too hard with her possessiveness.”

“I couldn’t do it,” I whisper. “If someone cheated on me, I could never, ever go back to them.

“I know. Huge mistake. I never forgave her; I just fell back into it. I’m a coward and a f-ucking idiot.” He rubs his eyes. “Can I talk about us now?”

I blink at his question and dismissal of the events that just screwed up his life. “Us? Liam...”

“I said I want you. Us.” He reaches out a hand and touches my face so I step back. “I don’t expect you to fall into my arms. I get that, but I thought while I was here, I’d ask you out.”

The day takes a step from the mundane and stressful to the unreal. He launches into a monologue about his ex, then this? “Ask me out?”

“Yeah, you know. Go out, have fun.” He looks at my mouth. “If I’m lucky, you might kiss me.”

His eyes hold that amused sparkle that disarms me.

“Yeah, right.”

“I’ll take you anywhere you want. How about tomorrow?”

“I can’t drop everything for dates with rock stars. If I did agree, I’d need time to organise a babysitter.” Liam’s disappointed look tempers my mood. “Next weekend, maybe.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“I’m going back to the States on Wednesday, doing some session work for a few weeks.” He sighs. “I’d offer to take you both out somewhere tomorrow but I’m selfish. I want a date with you, not you and Ella.”

“When you get back then,” I say lightly, but the excitement churns into nausea. Like Christmas, he could go back to the States and Honey.

“I guess I could come back tomorrow and take you both somewhere if that’s the only way I’ll get to see you.”

I drag my brain back to reality. “It’s Monday tomorrow, Ella has school, and I have things to do. Nothing a rock star with free time on his hands could be involved in. Plus I’m not letting you into my life out of the blue.”

In a daze, I head to the kitchen, before I allow myself to change my mind. Liam. Here. Wanting me.

“Do you want me to go?” he asks from behind.

“I need to think about all this. I can’t just accept you walking into my life and saying these crazy things.”

I turn back to him and this time when he steps forward, I don’t move. “Okay, I’ll go and leave you to think about what I’ve said.”

“Thank you.”

“But aren’t you going to wish me happy birthday before I go?” he whispers, touching my hair.

The sensation tingles my scalp and my cheeks heat. “Crap. That was rude of me. Sorry, Liam. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.” He grins.

“So you’ll be celebrating tonight?” I ask. “What do rock stars do on their birthdays?”

He glances around. “Well, I missed the ‘pass the parcel’ which is a bit disappointing.”

I pout at his teasing and grab a plastic bag from the box. “Have a party bag instead then. Sorry, we only have princess ones left.”

Liam peers into the bag and a slow smile crosses his face. “You gave me lollipops. Do you still think I’m a sweet guy?”

Suddenly, I’m there again, with Liam in the snow and the heart-thumping need to touch him returns with the memory. “Yes.”

He shakes his head. “I haven’t done anything sweet recently; I’ve been a bastard to Honey.”

“The heart you have in there is huge, Liam.” I place a hand on his warm chest, against the steady thrum of his heartbeat. “You just have to give it to the right person, and that wasn’t Honey.”

The unspoken words of who he wants to give his heart to are in his eyes and I wish I hadn’t said anything. “Would you kick my backside if I asked for a birthday kiss?”

I stare at Liam’s mouth, shocked by his forwardness and hold myself back from doing what he asks. “If I kiss you again, will you come back this time?”

“Will you wait?” He shifts closer and slides an arm around my waist.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I press myself against his chest, brain screaming at my stupidity.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“For what?”

There’s no hesitancy in Liam’s kiss this time; he releases my waist and seizes my head in both hands kissing me as if he’s suffocating and my lips are the air he needs to survive. Momentarily, I’m surprised but the overwhelming passion of his kiss, the strength with which he holds me isn’t frightening, it jolts long-forgotten desire, my body aching in a way I haven’t experienced since Christmas. I stumble backwards into the door, which closes behind me and Liam continues to hold my face, tongue exploring mine. Then as suddenly as he started, he stops and releases my head.

“For that.” Liam runs his tongue along his bottom lip. “And for not having sweet thoughts about you.”