Page 43 of Love Me

I get comfortable on my couch, flipping through Shudder and then Netflix to find a horror movie so that it’squeued up for us to watch. Liam is walking through my kitchen door less than ten minutes later, his heavy steps leading him directly to me. His steps falter as he walks into my small living room, his eyes roaming over my bare legs that are stretched out in front of me, crossed at my ankles, heels resting on the coffee table. He tracks the length of them as my breathing picks up, over my belly, eyes squinting over my breasts—my nipples pebbled from the heat of his stare, poking through the thin fabric of my tank top—before finally meeting my eyes. I bite my bottom lip to stifle the smile that threatens to consume my face, the bastard.

“Hi, beauty.”

“Hi. Want to watch a movie?”

“Like it’s even a question. What are my choices tonight?”

He sets the paper bag down on the coffee table and drops himself next to me, legs brushing mine, his arm stretching behind my head and tucking me into his side. I inhale a deep breath of his woodsy, sweet smell. He’s always smelled like charred sugar and oak from the distillery and rickhouses, and I’ve always taken that smell for granted until now. Now, I crave it.

“Thought we could bingeFear Street?”

“Fear Streetit is.”

After devouring some ice cream and starting the second movie, my eyes get heavy as I play with Liam’s fingers currently resting on my leg. I don’t know how much time passes but I’m jostled awake as Liam picks me up off the couch, holding me bridal style and carrying me into my bedroom. He pulls my quilt back before setting me down, brushing the hair from my face. I tuck my feet under the blanket, as he pulls it up over my waist, leaning down to kiss my head. My heart flips over in my chest, and instead of fighting what I really want, I ask for it.

“Will you stay?”

“It’s late, beauty, you know I’m not driving home. I’ll be on the couch.”

“No, will you stay with me? I just . . .”

The faint light shining through my window illuminates the slight smirk rising on his handsome face.

“You don’t need to explain, I know. Let me shut everything off and lock the door. I’ll be right back.”

I release the breath I was holding. Even though he’s slept in here with me before, something about this is different. It’s more than wanting physical touch, I just want to be close to him. The boy who has loved me through everything.

I lay down on my pillow, getting comfortable on my side just as Liam slips back into the room, leaving the door open halfway because he knows I don’t want to be separated from Charlotte in case she needs me in the middle of the night. I hear the rustle of his clothes being removed and then feel the dip of the bed as he lays down. My heartbeat settles as Liam’s strong arm wraps around my waist, dragging me to the middle of the bed, cocooning my back flush against his hard, naked chest.

“You doin’ okay?” he asks after a few moments of silence.

“I think so. Getting everyone to believe we’re dating was a joke. We didn’t even need to change anything.”

“I know.”

“So, let’s just get married.”

His body stills, not even a breath against my neck or the rise and fall of his chest against my back.

“Bear? Isn’t that the plan? If you’ve changed your mind . . .”

“Yeah, that’s the plan. We’re getting married. Do you want to tell your parents? Need any help planning it?”

“I don’t want a wedding. I’ve never wanted a wedding. Let’s elope. We’ll tell everyone after.”

“Han, are you serious?”

“Please. This is the plan anyway, no sense wasting a ton of money. Courthouse next week work for you?”

He’s silent for a long moment and I wonder if he’s fallen asleep. The truth is, while I don’t actually want a big wedding, the idea of experiencing that and having it fail or end, would be painful. It’s better to keep this what it is. Liam’s reaction seems almost disappointed as the silence stretches on. Just as I’m about to doze off myself, he speaks up.

“I would marry you any time, any place. If you want to get married at the courthouse, then that’s what we’ll do. But then you’ll be my wife, Hannah, and everything that comes with it.”

He says the last sentence in a whisper, but there is no denying the powerful and matter-of-fact way he says it. As if there is no going back. Next week I’ll be Liam Hayes’ wife.

The thought is on repeat as I fall asleep with him wrapped around me, my heart pounding in my chest, my head full of what-ifs, the one thing that I’m not feeling though?

Hesitation.

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