Page 116 of The Reno
Liam lifted my head with his thumb and forefinger.
“Don’t work yourself up. Let’s take some time for ourselves, just you and me.”
“We can’t—we have to finish here.” I gestured around the half-finished room. “Even if I decide to move up here, we still need to finish this place.”
“Easy.” Liam’s hands ran up my arms. “You’re thinking about moving up here, so why don’t you let me show you the reasons to stay?”
My brow furrowed, but my mouth quirked. “What do you mean?”
A bright smile took over his face. I loved it when he smiled like that, like all his defences were down. “Give me one day, and I’ll convince you it’s best to stay. Some courage to face your mum. Who sounds terrifying, by the way. Can’t wait to meet her.”
I gave a snort and Liam lifted his pinkie finger in front of me.
“Deal?”
“Deal.”
Our pinkie fingers interlocked.
Liam’s cedar cologne enveloped me. Warmth rolled off him in waves as we stood close. He trailed his hand up my arm, up and down, driving me mad. The train doors opened, and people shuffled to the door. Liam pulled me closer into his chest, out of the way.
My heart still raced to be this close to him. I still woke upcraving his rough palms on my skin. The smell of his skin still drove me wild. I glanced up at Liam to find him smirking down at me, like he knew what was on my mind. Smug bastard. He lifted my chin with his thumb and forefinger, placing a soft but insistent kiss on my lips. I tried to kiss him with more fervour, but he pulled back.
“Behave,” he hushed in my ear, making me grunt with annoyance, only making him smile wider.
It was only yesterday Liam promised to give me reasons to stay in Everly Heath, and he moved fast. This morning, he came into our bedroom with flowers and a tray of fruit and pastries. After we finished eating, Liam ate me. He grinned as I came, moaning his name, which will be etched into my mind forever. Once I came down from the high, he swatted away my hand and jumped out of bed in an effort to distract me.
“I got you something,” Liam said as he turned to his wardrobe. The wardrobe that some of my clothes had sneaked their way into. I didn’t know who I was trying to kid with this “keeping it casual” shit. All my stuff had invaded Liam’s house. Liam had tried to collect the rest of my stuff from the annexe, but I had insisted it was fine. So my luggage sat in the annexe, like bringing them into Liam’s house symbolised something permanent.
Liam opened his wardrobe and pulled out the most beautiful emerald-green dress I’d ever seen. It nipped in at the waist, had balloon sleeves, and a swishy skirt I could imagine would be a lot of fun on a dance floor. I jumped out of bed, running my hand across the silky fabric. It also had an open back, which would look great if I styled my hair up.
“Sandra helped me pick this out,” Liam said, a blush running up his cheeks. “Since Mum died, well, I guess I haven’t had many role models when it comes to women’s clothes. Abi won’t let me pick anything out for her. If you hate it—”
My nose stung. God, he was so adorable. I couldn’t remember a time a man had ever bought anything for me. To be fair, I don’t think I let them close enough to allow it.
“I love it, Liam. Thank you.”
His shoulders dropped.
“I thought the colour would look beautiful on you, and you could wear it today,” he said. “It’s supposed to be warm, so you shouldn’t be cold.”
“You know”—I smirked—“you’re incredibly thoughtful underneath that resting bitch face.”
Liam grinned. “You’re going to get it now, Red.”
He threw me on the bed, tickling me so much that my chest hurt with laughter.
The train pulled into Manchester Piccadilly, and Liam grabbed my hand, speed-walking through the crowds. It was only a Thursday, but the station was packed. Outside, the weather was overcast, the odd ray of sun peeking through the clouds. I followed the natural flow of people, but Liam pulled me back. “We’re not going that way.Thatway is Piccadilly Gardens, and we do not want to go there.” He laughed dryly. “Not the best impression of Manchester, trust me.”
Liam walked us over a bridge and past some tall buildings,all glass and steel. We followed the tramlines and took the back streets until we stood in front of a Grecian-inspired building with huge stone pillars. The sign read MANCHESTER ART GALLERY, and I was like a bottle of pop, shaken up.
Liam looked over at me, reading my reaction. “You said you liked London for the art galleries.”
“When—” I frowned, and then I realised it had been when we were standing in the social club kitchen, side by side, preparing sandwiches. It had been such an offhand comment—I hadn’t expected Liam to remember.
He bumped my shoulder. “You’ll have to go easy on me. I don’t know anything about this.”
I grinned. “I can show you.”
