Page 51 of The Love Chase

Slowly, I tilted my head to look at Liam. His head was leaning back on the cushion, his mouth parted in sleep. How had I fallen asleep on him? The last thing I remembered was watching TV, and now, I was waking up with his arms around me.

Liam is holding me! We’re cuddling!

I did my best to squash the butterflies swarming in my belly, but it was a losing effort. Why hadn’t he woken me up and told me to go to bed? Why had he let me sleep here with him? He couldn’t possibly have been comfortable like that. He’d probably wake up with a crick in his neck.

That warm fluttering feeling returned as I looked at his peaceful, sleeping face.

Not exactly what I had in mind for a wedding night, but I’ll happily take this.

At the thought of our wedding night, my thoughts dipped into dangerous territory, and I knew it was time to get out of his arms. I wanted to kiss him too badly for it to be safe to stay here any longer, and kissing him would make it too hard to keep my feelings at bay—or a secret.

Which was now of the utmost importance. Liam didn’t return my feelings, so I needed to keep boundaries to protect my heart—and what was left of our friendship.

So, no kissing.

Carefully, trying not to wake him, I lifted his arm from around me and tried to roll as quietly as I could off the bed. Liam must not have been sleeping very heavily because he suddenly jumped, putting his arm around me, and pulled me back into him. Our faces were inches apart. I could feel his quick breaths on my lips.

He looked at me through sleepy eyes. “Emma?” he croaked. Liam’s gaze lowered to my lips for a second, but then he seemed to realize how close we were and released his hold on me.

“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” I did a ninja roll to get off the sofa bed. “Go back to sleep, Liam.”

Liam blinked blearily at me. He wasn’t much of a morning person, but it was made worse when he didn’t get enough sleep. How late did he stay up last night? When did I fall asleep?

“Eggs benedict?” he mumbled, his deep morning voice rumbling, and I smiled. Sleepy Liam had always been adorable.

“Avocado toast. You can go back to sleep. I’ll head upstairs so I don’t wake you up again.”

He stretched, his T-shirt rising just enough to show off the defined abs that had been hiding there, and I finally got a good look at the tattoo under his sleeve. It was an arrangement of sunflowers mixed with music notes. I tried to ignore the thump my heart made at the sight of it. Sunflowers were my favorite. Liam knew that. But I was being ridiculous. His tattoo had nothing to do with me. Maybe he simply liked them too.

“Nah,” he said through a yawn. “I’m awake now.”

I averted my eyes from his skin and headed for the kitchen. “I’ll make some coffee.”

Liam mumbled something that sounded a lot like “Hallelujah.”

I headed into the kitchen and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet. Thankfully there weren’t any more newlywed mugs. I expected there to be a standard coffee maker, but instead there was a fancy espresso machine in the corner.

There were knobs and levers and doohickeys that made magic in a cup, but I didn’t know how to use any of them.

“Um,” I started to say.

“What’s wrong?” Liam asked, appearing right behind me, and I spun around—which of course brought us face-to-face. I was tall, a few inches short of six feet, but he still had a good number of inches on me, and I had to tilt my head to see his expression. He was looking at me in that way again—the one I had never seen before until yesterday. His brows were lowered over his eyes.

“Um.” I swallowed. “I don’t know how to use the machine.”

Liam didn’t move for a moment, standing far too close for me to think clearly. Then, finally, he stepped back, and I took a long breath into my air-starved lungs. Why did he affect me like this? I’d always had hidden feelings for him, but I’d been able to keep them buried and ignored—most of the time. But now it was like someone had ripped off the lid and then cut down the sides so that all my feelings were seeping out constantly.

Liam stepped over to the machine, and I watched in awe as he ground the beans and put them in the metal thingy, then pressed a series of buttons before the blessed scent of coffee filled the kitchen as espresso poured into a little glass cup. While it brewed, Liam grabbed the milk from the fridge and poured it in a glass—not the mug—and then poured the espresso shot in and filled it with ice.

He handed it to me. “You like it iced, right?”

I gaped at him, taking the glass in my trembling hands.

“What?” Liam asked, cocking his head as he dashed a little cinnamon on top, then slipped a straw into the drink.

“Why do you remember so many things about me?”

That half-smile was back. “Contrary to what you think of me from the last two years, I haven’t forgotten anything about you, Em. You’re still my best friend whether you feel like it or not.”

---