Shaking my head, I exhale. “My shower is tiny. We both can’t fit in there.”
That lures a smile to his mouth. “You’re sure?”
“My apartment is Athena-sized, not giant-sized.”
“Giant-sized.” He tosses my words back with a lift of both of his brows. “I admit I’m tall, but I’m no giant, lilac.”
I pick at a loose thread on the pillowcase next to me. “We can’t both fit in my shower.”
“We’ll shower here before we go to your place.” He glances at the door that leads to the hallway. “I’ll even make you a coffee before we head out in the morning.”
It’s all so tempting. It’s not just the idea of showering with him, but the comfort of spending the night wrapped in his arms while the rain beats down on the city.
“I’ll stay.” I slide into place next to him. “Set the alarm for five.”
“I’m setting it for four-thirty,” he counters. “I need an extra thirty minutes in the morning with you.”
Before I think it through, I ask a question. “For what?”
He slides his hand up my thigh. “For this.”
***
I wake before the alarm sounds. It’s that way every morning. I set the alarm on my phone before I go to bed most nights, but my scattered thoughts push through my peaceful dreams, and I wake up at least an hour before I want to.
I won’t complain about not getting much sleep in Liam’s bed.
I reach for him, but all my hand finds is the cold sheet where he was before I fell asleep.
He held me against his chest until I drifted off.
He was telling me about the Empire State Building and the workers who put in time crafting one of the most iconic buildings in New York City.
“Liam,” I say his name quietly as I survey the room.
He’s not in here, but there is a light trailing down the hallway from the main living area.
My breath catches in my throat when my bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor.
Bundling a blanket around me, I push to stand.
He might have gone to fetch a glass of water or to use the washroom, but I want to surprise him by tossing the blanket aside to reveal my body underneath.
I know it will earn me at least a smile and those are like gold to me.
His entire face lights up when happiness settles there.
As soon as I peer out of the bedroom door, I spot him. He’s standing in silence, staring at a wall of pictures. I’ve glanced at them briefly each time I’ve been here. I know the one in the center with all of the people at a restaurant has to be a photo of his family.
There are also pictures of him when he was a kid and one from his high school graduation.
I move forward two steps and turn to face him.
He’s wearing dark sweatpants and nothing else. His right fist is knotted in the center of his chest. I can only see his profile, but I see pain there. It’s evident in the stern set of his jaw and the furrow of his brow.
I feel like I’m interrupting something even though he’s alone.
I move slightly, causing the bottom of the blanket to brush against the floor.