I don’t think there’s any need to mention I haven’t gotten that far yet. I’m sure he knows I’ve never seen this room, at least that I can remember, and I’ve been frozen in the same spot for who knows how long now, staring at him. I wouldn’t have noticed any of his stuff, not that I would’ve thought it out of place if I had.
I shake my head and surprise myself with what falls out of my mouth next. “Stay.”
Liam’s eyes drift back to mine, brows furrowing.
“Maybe you can answer some questions for me.”
He’s quiet for a few moments, watching me. I worry my bottom lip, suddenly wishing I hadn’t said anything.
He lets out a harsh breath and nods slowly.
“Yeah, anything you want.”
I dip my chin and head toward the bed, slipping out of my shoes and lying down. I’m still wearing the sweater and jeans I wore when I left the hospital, but I can’t find the energy to look for anything else more comfortable. Sleeping in my underwear and bra would be an option, only I don’t want to torture this man any more than I am right now; this familiar stranger who loves a woman I can’t remember.
Liam is close behind, walking toward the other side of the bed. I sit on the mattress and watch him as he moves toward the walk-in closet. He flips off the light and he closes the distance to the bed, his footfalls tentative.
My request that he stay is awkward and selfish; I’m playing with his emotions. I know it hasn’t been easy for him to finally find me, only to learn I’m still lost to him. But I don’t know much about who I used to be, and he seems like a good place to start. And I’m suddenly eager to learn more about the woman I was.
Liam’s coiled muscles flex as he pulls the covers back and my eyes land on a tattoo that resembles mine. He’s been shirtless in front of me for the last five minutes and I’m only now noticing this. I’m on my knees crawling across the bed toward him and he stiffens.
When I reach him, I sit up and trail a finger along the design that covers his chest, the same one I have on mine. Liam’s breath shudders when my fingers graze along his sun-kissed skin.
“We have the same tattoo,” I breathe out, tracing the roses and skull, then the two pistols that are on each of his pecs.
I pull away and shove my hands in my lap.
“I’m sorry, I just…”
Liam reaches up to tuck a loose curl behind my ear. His touch is soothing, and I wish I knew why.
“I got it for you.”
His hand drops to his side, and he gives me a tight smile.
“Your dad and brother did too. If we never…”
His face hardens and his eyes narrow. “If we never found you I wanted something permanent to remember you. I’m yours, Little Warrior,” he sighs. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Tell me about us.”
It was a statement, not a question. It’s probably stupid, but I’m hoping maybe Liam giving me pieces of who we were will be the spark I need to get back the rest. He seems willing to talk tonight and I want to take advantage of that.
He blows out another long breath. He’s hesitant, and it only makes me all the more curious. It takes him a moment to find whatever he’s looking for.
Liam nods and sits down on the bed.
“Can I…” He squeezes his eyes shut. “Would I be crossing the line if I asked if I could hold you?”
The pain is clear in his face, and I hold back the urge to reach out to him and smooth the tight edges forming around his mouth. Whatever bond we had was strong and it’s desperate for him.
Elio beat me and caused me to miscarry. Was the baby Liam’s? Were we trying to get pregnant when I was taken? Maybe Liam’s the key to unlocking it all. Not having the keys to my past makes the whole ordeal so much harder to process.
I have so many questions and I’m so numb from betrayal that it’s hard to believe what’s happened. I want to feel the pain I’m missing. I want to mourn my child, to mourn what was taken from me. From us.
“Yeah, okay,” I say, my response almost a whisper.
My smile feels strained as relief spreads across Liam’s face at my agreement. He wastes no time and tugs me into his side, letting us fall back onto the pillows. His arm wraps around my waist, my hand falls on his chest, and his free hand intertwines with mine. He smells of leather and smoke, even after a fresh shower, with a hint of something I could only imagine is his personal scent. He truly is beautiful, every muscle carved and worked to perfection, and tattoos covering his upper body, arms, and neck.