Kinsley: FUCK TARA.
Liam: I just heard— calling my agent + PR team.
Kinsley: I'm so sorry
My phone buzzed in my hand with Liam’s name flashing across the screen. As soon as I answered, his husky voice spilled out over the line.
"Don't you dare apologize. We'll get through this," Liam murmured.
I already missed him. Why had I chosen to leave instead of staying the night with him?
"I know. I just hate that our relationship seems to cause so much damage."
"I don't give a fuck what the world thinks, Kinsley. I'm so happy with you. I’m focusing on what's important. You and soccer. That's all I need."
I smiled despite the circumstances, recalling what it'd felt like to fall asleep in his arms the night before. He was right. I'd focus on what was important and ignore the rest.
"Okay. My mom's coming in town tomorrow and I'm staying in her hotel with her for the next two days."
"That's a smart idea. Text me the hotel and I'll have a security guard there as well."
I didn't argue. His voice was commanding and I knew that he'd feel better if I agreed.
"Okay. Go call your agent," I said, falling back onto the bed.
"Okay… and Kins," he paused and I heard him take a deep breath, "I really care about you."
I closed my eyes and soaked up his words. I loved him then. Of course, I loved this guy who would take on the world for me and asked for nothing in return. Well, besides my killer lovemaking.
"I know. We’ll get through this. Sweet dreams," I whispered before hanging up. It was too soon for declarations of love and I wouldn't dare say it during a conversation that had anything to do with Tara. I’d wait for a much better moment than this. Like the next time we're riding through a meadow, naked on horseback.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
My mom assured me that the press release was sent late Sunday night, but the media was still relentless on Monday. There was a group of paparazzi waiting for me outside of the house, shouting questions and snapping photos when I left for practice Monday morning. We were forced to practice in an indoor facility down the road from our normal field.
Coach Davis asked me to stay after practice and explained that she and the team were behind me. She said the college sent out their own press release clearing my name and condemning Tara as a “conniving bitch”. All right, maybe that’s not a direct quote, but still, Coach Davis was on my side and she wasn't going to give up on me yet.
I was eating room service with my mom on Monday night when my phone rang. Liam's dimpled smile lit up the screen and I felt my heart flutter.
"Hey babe," I answered with a tired voice.
"Hey, are you at the hotel?" he asked while street sounds drifted into the background.
"Yeah, my mom and I just ordered room service."
"Okay good, I'll be up in a second."
I glanced down at my robe and realized I still had wet hair from my shower.
"Oh... yeah ...okay, see you in a second," I said, hanging up and glancing over to my mom.
"Liam's coming up. I think he might be here already, actually," I admitted with a sheepish smile.
My mom's eyebrows shot up. "I get to meet the infamous Liam Wilder. How exciting," she winked, and then took another bite of her meal.
A few minutes later, a soft knock sounded at our door and I hopped up to go let him in.
As soon as I turned the handle I inhaled his signature scent. He’d just come from practice so his body wash mingled with his sweat and musk. It was oddly seductive and I almost jumped him in the hallway, especially after I pulled the door open and saw his appearance. His light brown hair was unruly and sexy, his soccer shorts showed off his tan, toned legs, and his workout shirt clung to his hard chest.
I unraveled a smile and jumped up to throw my arms around his neck.
The security guard stationed outside of our door cleared his throat and I started to laugh. I'd forgotten he was even there. Mostly because normal people don’t have security guards.
"Well hello to you, too." Liam smiled and dipped down to give me a kiss. As soon as he pulled away, his eyes scanned over my shoulder to find my mother who’d stood up to greet him. I unwrapped my hands from around his neck and stepped back to eye her. I knew he was comparing how similar we looked in that moment. She had the same dark brown hair that I did, but hers was cropped into a short pixie cut. We had the same build, although I had a bit more muscle, whereas she was a little taller and more lithe.