Bree

I woke up with a blanket over me.

The curtains were drawn, so it was dark, but sunlight spilled from the edges, softly illuminating the room.

I turned, laying on my back, stretching my arms out. As I did so, I realized that the other side of the bed was still warm. I turned my head to my left and saw that the sheets were crumpled next to me.

I sat up, my head wrapped in confusion before it all came back to me in a rush. Not being able to sleep last night, and Liam coming over. His arms around me when he first arrived. Watching TV before I dozed off. Waking up in the middle of the night, with Liam in my bed.

I got up and went to the bathroom, stopping by the mirror. I bunched my hair up in a ponytail, roughly combing away the tangles.

I had a spare room, but he’d slept next to me. What did that even mean?

I heard the low tone of his voice as he talked to someone outside. It was just six in the morning. Still too early. I followed the sound, curious.

“How’s the kid?” I heard him ask in the hallway, his back turned to me. “I’ll come over next month, once the workload slows down a bit.”

I yawned. Not wanting to disturb him, I turned around and padded towards the kitchen. I was in the middle of making tea when my phone buzzed on my table. Kiera.

“Bree! Morning. Mind if I drop by?”

“Not at all.”

“Have you had breakfast yet?”

“I’m just making tea right now, but no, not yet.”

“Perfect,” she replied perkily, but she didn’t say anything more.

When she arrived not more than five minutes later, I finally understood what she’d meant when she held up a familiar white box. Red velvet cupcakes. I gave her a hug, accepting the box gratefully.

She perched on a bar stool and I offered her a drink. “I’ve made a little too much of these, so I figured maybe you’d want some for breakfast,” she explained. “They’re not like the ones you made for…whoever it was, but they’re not bad.”

“What did Bree make?” Liam emerged from the doorway that led to the open kitchen.

I froze. I thought he’d still be in the middle of his phone call.

Kiera shifted in her seat to see who it was. When she saw Liam, she gaped.

Shock completely took over her expression before she finally asked, “Liam? Why are you here?”

My mind went completely blank, and like Kiera, I didn’t know what to say. Because they were talking about the cupcakes that no one should’ve been talking about, and knowing Kiera, she would connect all the dots.

Her eyes widened as it dawned on her. Yep, she’d pieced it together. “Oh. Ohhh.” She slapped a closed fist on her palm, and turned to me. “It’s him, isn’t it?” she said, like she’d finally cracked the secret to some puzzle. “Why you’ve been acting so weird.” Then she gasped. “You made them for him!”

“What did she make for me?” Liam asked again, his brows coming together in confusion.

Kiera’s eyes went to me. I shook my head at her emphatically, trying to send my message—Nooo. Not while he’s here. No how, no way.

She seemed to understand, at least, that I wasn’t willing to talk about it. “Nothing!” she burst out.

Liam switched his questioning gaze to me.

“Nothing,” I replied quickly.

“What are you both hiding from me?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. He folded his arms across his chest, sensing we knew more than we let on.

Kiera jumped off the seat quickly. “O-kay. I’ll leave you guys the red velvets. I remembered stuff I need to do. Enjoy.”

She grabbed a single cupcake and bit on it before she jumped out of her seat and waved. “Cream cheese frosting, by the way!”

After I heard the screen door slam shut, the silence was all the more pronounced. Now it was just me and Liam.

I grabbed a cupcake from the box myself and took a bite of it. Maybe it was cowardly, but sometimes a girl needed a cupcake to boost her confidence… Or maybe to delay a conversation that was bound to happen. It burst with flavor from the cream cheese, perfectly complementing the red velvet cake. Kiera had been too modest. This was great.

I saw the elegantly-designed baking cups and then I remembered that I used the same ones back then. It came back to me—the punch of shock and the crushing disappointment when I’d seen him with someone. I had no right to the feeling. But I looked at my cupcakes and thought that sometimes, things weren’t meant to be.

It turned out I was completely wrong about him.

“A few weeks ago…” Better to get it out of the way. “I made you a batch of cupcakes.”

He didn’t say anything. He just waited for me to continue.

“I—I threw them away.”

“You threw them away,” he echoed, and his eyes darkened. “What the fuck? Why?”

“I was nearly going to give them to you.” I crumpled the delicate baking cup. “I was finally going to make you see me. I walked out and… And then I saw you with her. You gave her roses.”

“Oh I knew who you were.”

It was the last thing I expected him to say. “But…” I stopped, absorbing what he’d just said. “How?”

“Hell, Bree, everyone knows who you are. And every time you look at me with those blue eyes, it fucking draws me.”

I’d once considered him out of my league. That one person that put a smile on my face every morning, and the person I’d nearly given up on.

And he’d just practically told me he’d noticed me all this time. Not just little more than a passing thought, but real interest.

I blinked. “R-really?”

Hearing the uncertainty from my voice, he closed the distance between us, trapping me against the counter.

“I’ll make it up to you with some of my choc-mint ones,” I went on, running through some of my killer recipes in my head. “Or maybe—”

“Tomorrow,” he whispered against my neck.

“But—”

“Right now, I can think of another way you can make it up to me.” He slid the curve of his nose along my neck, his lips nipping at the tender skin. I shivered. I was pressed against him, my knees turning weak.

But he had to know.

I turned to him. “Liam, I—I don’t have much experience with… with this,” I confessed, unable to look in his eyes.

He froze. “Bree,” he breathed out, understanding my inexperience. He tilted my chin up to meet his eyes, a tenderness in the gesture. “Am I your first?”

I shook my head. “No. My last boyfriend… He was rough, and it hurt.”

There. At least now he knew that sex hadn’t been great for me. I didn’t have high hopes for it.

His expression hardened, a scowl expressing his displeasure. “He was an idiot.” It happened a while ago, but that he’d said it at all had me smiling.

His hands roamed down my arms, until they stopped to brush the sides of my breasts. My breath caught in my throat at his touch.

He looked at me like he wanted to take me right here. “Let me show you. It’ll be good between us.” He shot me a wicked grin, all his devastating charm focused on me. “I fucking promise it will be.”

“I—I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Nothing you do will.”

My stomach dipped, hearing his words. His mouth came down on me, and I opened mine, inviting him in. His tongue stroked mine, soft and slow at first, going just a little deeper each time.

We were tugging each other’s clothes off.

His hands were rough. Hands of someone who worked hard and long. And yet it was a contrast to the way he touched me—gentle, yet teasing.

“Too fast?” he asked huskily, both of us breathing hard as he pulled back.

“No,” I protested, burying a hand in his blond hair and pushing his head back down.

It didn’t matter anymore if we were going fast or slow, or if it was perfect. Pleasure—feeling it and giving it—did.

I pulled him close.

He flicked a thumb at my taut nipple. Pleasure shot straight down. I let out a whimper from his touch. A torture in itself.

It no longer felt weird or clumsy. It was frantic, wild, and fueled by pent-up need.

He guided my hands towards his cock. I rolled a condom on him that he gave me. He groaned as I slid it on.

He ran his knuckles over my cheek, taking my mouth again. He slid inside me slowly.

I gasped at the sensation, feeling so full.

He stopped. “Too much?” His breath stroked my skin.

I shook my head, unable to form coherent words. This was easy. Natural. And so right.

All the feelings he was stirring in me started to crest as he slid slowly back out before he drove back in. Then he hit a spot inside me that made me moan.

“Liam.”

“That’s it. Let go, baby.”

He thrust deep, and circled my clit with a thumb. My nails dug into his back as I came, hard, clenching around him.

He came after as I rode the wave, his mouth crashing against mine.

* * *

I’d once heard that falling in love was like diving off a steep cliff. First came the spontaneity of it. It was dangerous. Unpredictable. Crazy, maybe. Then there was the action itself—the way your heart raced, the sensation at the pit of your stomach, like you were falling.

I had.

He’d held me close as he slept, a silent strength he didn’t know he’d lent me by being near. With Liam, I couldn’t tell when it began, but I knew in an instant that everything had changed between us. I’d let him in.

Tomorrow, our relationship could dissolve into nothing and I’d be picking up the pieces of my broken heart.

I was going to hold on while it lasted.

And as I pressed my lips against his, he mumbled something in his sleep—something that sounded a lot like my name. My heart swelled in my chest with words I couldn’t say to him.

Not yet.

He wasn’t offering a relationship. I had to remind myself that this was temporary. Fleeting.

I sighed deeply, pulling the covers up. My eyes nearly closed when I noticed my bare wrist.

My heart stopped.

My bracelet was gone.