The Ending I Want
Page 30

I grab the alarm clock from his nightstand, checking the time. Ten thirty.
We didn’t get to sleep until late. Or early.
Liam had a lot of anger to fuck out, and I was more than willing to be his companion in his endeavor.
He was angry last night though.
But hot. God, was he hot.
I giggle at the thought of what we did in the taxi. And the elevator. And in his bed.
The stamina he has…it’s inspiring.
I stretch out my aching limbs. My muscles are deliciously sore from all the sex with Liam.
Then, my bladder tells me that it’s time to get up. I kick the covers back and head to the bathroom.
When I’m done in the bathroom, I pick up Liam’s shirt from last night off the floor and put it on. I’m sans panties, considering he wrecked them last night. I don’t actually know what happened to my panties. I have visions of them still on the floor of the elevator, riding up and down all night.
I walk into the kitchen. Liam is at the stove, wearing only boxer shorts, and I get the distinct whiff of bacon frying. It makes my tummy rumble.
“Hey,” I say, padding into the kitchen toward him.
“Morning.” He smiles at me from over his shoulder.
I reach him, putting my hand on his warm back, sliding my other one around his waist. He leans his mouth down to mine, softly kissing me.
“You should have a shirt on.” I pat his stomach, nodding at the frying bacon.
“I’m hard-core, Boston.” He grins. “You hungry? I made eggs and bacon.”
“I’m starving,” I tell him.
“Take a seat.” He nods at the breakfast bar, which is set up with plates and cups and a pot of coffee.
I sit down and pour us each coffee while Liam serves up the eggs and bacon. He sits down opposite me and picks his coffee up.
In the light of day, I notice a roof terrace through the full-glass panel in the kitchen. “You have a roof terrace?”
“Yeah. We can sit out there to eat if you want? It’s a warm day.”
“Heights are not my friend. I’m happy to just sit here, from the safety of being inside, and admire the view.”
Liam chuckles and puts some bacon in his mouth. “What are your plans for today?” he asks me as he chews his bacon.
“I’m not sure. I’m not really a planner. I’m more a fly-by-my-pants kind of girl.”
I put some scrambled eggs in my mouth. They’re really good. Guy can really cook.
“Good because I’ve got something arranged for you for this afternoon. If that’s okay?”
“Depends on what it is. You’re not going to make me strip naked and walk around London, are you?”
“No.” He laughs.
Smiling, I eat some bacon. “So, what are you taking me to do?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Okay,” I say, dubious. “But I’ve gotta say, I’m not a fan of surprises—you know, in case I don’t like it.”
He smiles. “You’ll like it. I promise.”
We eat the rest of our breakfast in amiable silence. When I’ve finished, I get up and take away my plate, and then I come back for Liam’s.
I pick up his empty plate and tell him, “I’ll need to go to the hotel to get changed—”
It hits me out of nowhere. The pain in my head is so severe that I can’t see. My vision blurs. The plate slips from my hand. It hits the floor and smashes. I can’t do anything but clutch my head and cry out in agony.
This is bad. The headaches are getting worse.
“Jesus, Taylor. Are you okay?” Liam’s voice sounds like he’s underwater.
Everything starts to fade to black.
I register my legs giving out right at the time he lifts me into his arms. He carries me over to the sofa in his living room.
“What’s wrong, babe?”
I can hear the worry clear in his voice.
“Head…ache,” I manage to get out.
“What can I do?”
“Tablets. My bag.”
I hear Liam leave me. I turn onto my side, curling into a ball. My hands clutch my head, my eyes squeezing tightly shut, as I will the pain to stop.
Not now. Not in front of Liam. Please.
“I got them.” He’s back. He sounds out of breath. “This was the only pill bottle I could find in your bag. I got water, too. How many do you take?”
“Two,” I whisper, everything sounding loud.
I hear him shake out two pills.
“Open up, sweetheart.”
I feel the pills pressing against my lips. I part my lips, and Liam drops the tablets into my mouth. Then, I feel a water bottle at my lips.
“Drink,” Liam tells me.
I let the water in my mouth and swallow down the tablets.
“Better?” he asks.
I murmur a sound, waiting for the pills to do their job.
Liam sits on the floor beside me, his hand gently stroking my hair.
The headache begins to subside after what feels like forever, but in reality, it’s probably only been five minutes.
“Hey,” Liam murmurs when I blink open my eyes. “You doing okay?”
“I’m better. Thanks.” I touch his hand still stroking my hair.
“Do you always get headaches that bad?”
I press my lips together. “Sometimes.”
“Is it because of the tumor you had when you were younger?”
I press my lips together and slowly nod my head.
I’m lying to him. It doesn’t make me feel good. But the alternative is telling him the truth, and I won’t do that.
“The tablets make it better?”