Page 49 of Until We're More
Chapter Twenty-One
Liam
This night was getting away from me, making me say things I shouldn’t. Chelsea’s lips parted, and more than anything, I wanted to close the distance between us and taste them. To stroke her tongue with mine until she was breathless and writhing beneath me.
But she was drunk and apparently feeling lonely.
God, the way she’d looked at me in the bar. The way she’d dragged her hand down my torso. I started to get hard again just thinking about it. Imagining kissing her and pinning her against the mattress didn’t help the situation.
I stood, afraid I wouldn’t do what I should if I stayed so close to her. “I don’t want either one of us to have regrets. But if you go back to Denver, and you’re feeling lonely, give me a call, and I’ll visit you—I’ll do a better job keeping in touch and coming to see you, I swear.”
She frowned. Not the reaction I was hoping for.
Then she rubbed a hand across her face.
“Need some water and pain pills? I’ll get some,” I said, without waiting for an answer. Usually she was more of ahalf a glass of winegirl, and I was sure she’d have a killer hangover tomorrow morning.
I brought her aspirin and asked if she needed anything else.
She still looked completely lost, and I wanted to make it better, but if I made the moves I wanted to, I’d only make it worse. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I have a feeling everything will look different in the light of day.”
She nodded.
I pivoted on my heel, ready to walk out, but something deep inside me revolted. I turned back to face her, took her head in my hands, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her fingers encircled my wrists, and I breathed her in, sorta hoping she wouldn’t remember much in the morning. “Good night, Chels.”
“Good night,” she said, then she laid back in her bed.
On my way out of her room, I nearly tripped over George, and he gave an offended meow to make sure I knew he didn’t appreciate it.
“Sorry, dude. You better go in there and give her someone to cuddle with, because as much as I want to do the cuddling, it probably shouldn’t be me.”
The cat strutted into the bedroom, and I held no pretense it was because I’d asked him to, but I was glad she had him all the same.
Then I retreated to my bedroom so I could lie in bed and not get any sleep while I thought too much about the woman on the other side of the wall.
Same way I’d been doing all week.
…
Chelsea’s singing mixed in with the running water in the shower, and I stopped next to the door, telling myself I’d just soak in the sound for a minute or two before moving on. I had to get to the gym. Finn’s fight was officially a week away, which meant it’d be a nonstop blur of training and making sure everything was set up, and on top of it all, Tautolo was starting on Monday.
Just a few more seconds.Damn, the girl had quite the set of pipes. She’d sung to the radio here and there while we were driving around, but not nearly this loud, and I hoped that meant she wasn’t too horribly hung over.
A loud slam cut through the air, followed by a yelp and swearing, with some “ow, ow, ow” in the mix.
“Chelsea.” I rapped my knuckles against the door. “Are you okay? Should I send in a rescue team?”Please say yes.
“No! I’m…just no.”
Okay, so she really didn’t want me in there, and of course she didn’t. Last night she was just drunk and feeling lonely. Which was exactly what I’d told myself, yet it still sent a heaviness through me.
Good thing I held back, or we could’ve made a real mess of things.
The water cut off, and a handful of seconds later, the door swung open. I stepped back, giving her some space and feeling kind of like a stalker for being right outside the door.Don’t think about the fact that she’s naked underneath the towel.
“Are you limping?” I asked when she took a step, favoring her left foot.
“My shampoo bottle fell and hit the top of my foot, and it hurt like a bitch.”
