The Do Over

I rummaged through my closet, looking for my favorite pair of skinny jeans. They were the ones that made me look like I did a daily Brazilian Butt Lift class. Liam and I had dinner reservations at one of my favorite restaurants, Joe's Stone Crabs on South Beach. Liam got points for listening. Since he was making a great impression, I wanted to dazzle him with my witty sense of humor, beaming smile, and tight ass.

We'd only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks, but it felt like we'd known each other our entire lives. I sighed, thinking of him. I found the jeans, pulled out the perfect blouse, and grabbed my favorite pair of black boots.

I was still shaken from this morning's encounter with Rick, but I was trying to put it out of my mind. Rick stirred up so many emotions, mainly insecurity. I decided that not thinking about it would defuse its power over me. Liam is not Rick became my mantra for the afternoon and early evening.

I knew Liam and I had something very promising, and I didn't want Rick to poison it. I'd already wasted almost two years of my life living cautiously and closed off. Enough was enough. Liam is not Rick. Liam was an amazing man who rocked my world. Thoughts of him warmed my heart as he filled my daydreams.

He was always doing the most thoughtful things. One day, I'd complained that I was so busy at work that I hadn't had a chance to eat. Within the hour, he had shown up there with food. It had been the most delicious sandwich I'd ever eaten. When he'd left, I had a group happy dance with the office staff.

Liam is Liam. He was under my skin and working his way into the deep recesses of my heart.

Standing in front of the mirror, I admired the fact that these jeans were worth every penny they cost. I ran my fingers through my hair, getting it to fall perfectly. Then, I put on a little swipe of mascara, a touch of eyeliner, and a dab of lip gloss.

I knew seeing Liam would allay my concerns. As usual, I was overreacting. Liam is Liam. Liam is not Rick. Liam is not an a*shole that will break my heart.

Since the temperatures had dipped to seventy degrees inland and sixty-five degrees on the beach, I pulled out my structured leather jacket and put it by the door. I nervously paced around my tiny living room, fluffed my pillows, and made a stop in front of the mirror to reapply lip gloss.

Liam is not Rick. I tried to convince myself that I was being foolish. Liam is Liam. I pushed my insecurities to the furthest part of my brain, willing them to disappear. I refused to ruin my evening with Liam because I felt doomed to be crushed. Liam is not an a*shole who is going to break my heart.

When the doorbell rang, my heart fluttered.

I opened the door and flirtatiously poked my head out. "I'm sorry, sir. I already have a set of encyclopedias."

"Darn, that's just my luck." Shaking his head, he snapped his fingers and pursed his lips. "Can't you help out a poor fella trying to make a buck? Please."

"Maybe. Do you have anything else in that bag of tricks?" I craned my head out a little farther. He looks amazing.

He held my gaze. "I promise you that if you give me half a chance, you'll be my most satisfied customer."

"Well, when you put it that way, I'd be a fool not to check out the merchandise." I opened the door a little wider.

As he stepped inside, he wrapped his arms around me and grazed his lips over mine. "Hey, baby."

My anxious thoughts dissipated as I felt safe, nestled in his arms.

"Hmmm, I like this magic potion you're selling. I'd like to bottle it up and pull it out every time the urge strikes me."

His hand drew circles on my back. "I have an endless supply, but don't be confused by any imitations. I only carry the real thing."

Liam is Liam. I was falling hard.

Taking my hand, he said, "Let's go, beautiful."

Our playful banter continued as we made our way to Miami Beach. The city lights shimmered against the black background of the clear evening sky. Along the causeway, the palm trees danced with the brisk breeze as the neon glow of South Beach welcomed us.

At the restaurant, the food and service were impeccable. Our conversation flowed naturally. I hung on Liam's every word, and he listened intently as I shared my own stories. He laughed at all the right moments. Wrapped up in the moment, my guard came down. Everything was perfect.

When the server brought our key lime pie, my all-time favorite dessert, we each had a fork in hand. There was something intimate about sharing dessert with another person. As we began picking away at the corners, my demeanor changed. Rick and I had shared key lime pie our last evening together. When he had scooped up all the whipped cream, I pulled the plate toward me, refusing to share with him. It was the last time we were playful. Liam isn't Rick. I'd had key lime pie many times since and never thought of Rick. Seeing him was toxic. I felt vulnerable as I opened myself up to Liam. What if he does the same thing Rick did? Liam is Liam. Liam is not Rick. Unsuccessfully, I tried to snap out of it.

"Hey, where'd you go? Are you okay?" Liam asked, his eyes furrowed with concern.

"Sugar coma," I lied. I didn't want to talk about it at dinner or ever. I hoped that if I ignored it, it would all go away, so we could resume the perfect night. "I don't know what came over me. I'm really tired." I forced a smile. As my guilt compounded with my denial and lies, I started to rearrange the salt and pepper shakers.

Liam saw right through me. "What's going on in your head?"

I didn't want to talk about it, so I gave him the standard answer. "Nothing."

I couldn't deal with the lies. I had to snap out of this. Wine, good food, and key lime pie mixed with emotional baggage was not a good combination for keeping it together. Liam was a great guy. I doubted he'd want to deal with this shit. I certainly didn't. I felt myself entering into a downward spiral.

"I need to use the ladies' room," I said. After standing up, I headed to the restroom.

Sitting in a stall, I pulled out my phone. With elbows on my knees, I tapped the screen, hoping for words of wisdom.

Dani: I'm in a crisis.

Macy: Shit, what happened?

Dani: I don't know. I just started having an internal freak-out.

Macy: Did you call Candace? She's better at talking you off the ledge.

Dani: She had a function tonight. It's up to you.

Macy: Where are you?

Dani: Restroom at Joe's.

Macy: Wow! Joe's? Did you order the key lime pie?

Dani: Yes!

Macy: What's the problem?

Dani: Rick!

Macy: Shit, is he there? I'll kick his ass.

Dani: No. What if Liam is like Rick?

Macy: We can't have therapy over text.

Dani: I have to go.

Macy: Talk to him. He's a good guy. He's not an a*shole.

Heading back to our table, I rounded the corner and caught a glimpse of Liam. He was toying with his glass, but I couldn't make out his expression. When he looked up, our eyes met. His lip curled up as his eyes sparkled. His eyes were the windows to his soul. They first got my attention and touched my heart. They were trusting and safe. I knew if I let myself go, he would catch me, but that was what made the eventual drop more painful.

After he asked for the check, he turned to face me. "Are you feeling better?"

I shook my head. I didn't want to lie to him again, but I couldn't talk to him either. What we had was too good to be true, so it had to be doomed. Rick had been pure dysfunction, and that hadn't worked out. Liam was flawless perfection, so it was only a matter of time before it ended. Then what? I don't like cats.

"Baby, look at me. What's the matter?" he asked.

I couldn't hold his gaze. My heart ached. I had too much to lose.

He settled the bill and took my hand. Although I was ruining this wonderful evening, he was being amazingly patient with me. He held my hand as we waited for the valet to bring his car around.

I wanted to run away, but at the same time, I wanted to be in his arms. Without my having to say anything, I wanted him to reassure me that he wouldn't hurt me. I leaned into his arm, and he held me.

"Talk to me," he urged.

"I can't," I whispered.

The valet brought the car to the curb and opened the door for me. I slid into the seat, as Liam walked around and sat down. "Don't shut me out."

"I just can't," I mumbled.

As we pulled out, Liam reached his hand over to me. I slipped my hand in his, lacing our hands together.

The drive home was silent. I stared out the passenger window, watching the streetlights pass in a blur.

Liam hadn't given me a reason to doubt him, but neither had Rick when we'd first met. I'd dated a little. It wasn't like I was a nun or anything like that. I hadn't had more than a date or two with anyone in particular. I just couldn't let myself go there, and frankly, no one had seemed worth the trouble. Liam was the first man that I'd gotten close to. I barely knew him, but I was already falling in love. Rick's presence during lunch had reminded me how quickly that could turn. Maybe running into him had been a sign that I was headed down the same path again. Liam isn't Rick. Maybe he's worse. I had no proof, but my insecurities were quickly unraveling into self-pity.

Liam didn't make any further attempts to talk to me. I glanced at him to see his jaw was stiff. For all I knew, he was thinking of the best way to let me down easily, or maybe he would be cruel and just blow me off. He was still holding my hand, but that could be his attempt to throw me off. At the first sign of trouble, Liam would bail. He was great, but he didn't need to deal with my bullshit. He was good-looking, fun-loving, tenderhearted, and sexy as hell. He could have anyone. He was probably thinking of all his options. My heart hurt at the thought that he would move on.

As we pulled up to my house, I was prepared for him to leave the car running. Instead, he turned off the engine and swiveled his body toward me. I hoped he wasn't going to be sadistic.

"Are you going to talk to me?" His voice was soft, almost pained.

As I stared out the windshield, I wondered if I should plant some flowers under the window. I wanted to think about anything other than what was about to happen.

"I don't know what to say or how to say it." That was as honest as I could get.

He still hadn't let go of my hand. With our hands connected, I didn't know where his began and my ended. When he pulled away, the moment changed. He got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side as I pulled out my keys. He opened the car door, being the gentleman he was, and of course, I thought this was malicious on his part. He was torturing me with kindness.

I opened the front door, and he followed me inside. Then, all hell broke loose. He pulled me into an embrace. Looking down at me, he kissed me. At first, it was gentle and soft, but it escalated into passionate and intense. Pulling away, he stepped back.

Spellbound by his gaze, I trusted and longed for him.

He cupped my face. "What's going on with you?"

Closing my eyes, I hoped that everything would magically right itself. When I opened my eyes, that questioning expression was still on his face. I did the only thing I knew. Losing myself, I kissed him with everything I had, and he reciprocated. The passion between us became unbearable. I wanted him. I needed him. My emotions were erratic. My heart beat for him while fear coursed through my veins.

I took off his jacket. My fingers swiftly untucked his shirt. His hands gently remained fixed on my face as mine traveled under his shirt, feeling his taut muscles. I tried to lead him to my bedroom, but he resisted.

"You need to talk to me."

I distracted him with kisses.

He pushed me off of him. "Not like this."

I turned away from him, feeling rejected. "You don't want me?" I asked, my voice shaking. My heart sank as the despair fueling my insanity went into overdrive.

He reached for me. "Don't even go there. You have no idea how much I want you." Again, he asked me, "What happened? Talk to me for Christ's sake."

"Fine, but you aren't going to like it." My voice and heart were defeated and frustrated. Stepping away, I leaned against the back of the couch and turned to face him again. "I ran into my ex today, and it's f*cked with my head," I blurted out.

His expression shifted from concern to either hurt or jealousy. Maybe it was both. His jaw tensed. He hadn't expected that admission. This wasn't going to be good.

"Don't you think that we should talk about that?" he asked, crossing his arms.

I knew the answer to that one. "No," I responded quickly. After the tenth time he'd asked me, I thought it had been evident that I didn't want to talk about it.

He cocked his head to the side, narrowing his stare. "Do you want to be with him?"

"No. He's a selfish a*shole. It's just all the other stuff." I waved my hands around.

"What's the other stuff?" he asked calmly as he waved his hands in a less animated fashion.

Glowing a dark orange, the room was lit by a small table lamp near the door. I preferred to hide in the dark. "I don't want to talk about it."

"We don't always get to do what we want. Sometimes you do it because you need to," he said, taking control.

I could tell his patience was running very thin. His body language changed as he rubbed his neck and leaned his head back. I wasn't making this easy, but he didn't understand. He started pacing in the small area of my living room. I was probably making it much worse, but I couldn't stop. Like riding a runaway train, I was convinced that I was living the self-fulfilling prophecy. Liam was done with me. This was it. That thought frightened me to my core.

"Please…" I paused and moved closer to him. "Hold me."

I wanted to feel his embrace. He wrapped me in his arms and kissed my head. When I looked up at him, he held my stare. Pushing up on my tiptoes, my lips skimmed his.

"I'm having an internal battle right now," he said, taking a step away from me, "between giving you what you need and…"

Before he could finish, I pulled back defensively. "Or walking out that door," I snapped at him, pointing to the front door.

I braced myself for his response. I had a bottle of wine, some Häagen-Dazs, and cookie dough primed for the post-dumping recovery binge. This is it. I thought I'd given him his out.

Instead, he was angry. "What the f*ck are you talking about?" He asked, raising his voice as he furrowed his brow. He paused, rubbing his temple. "Do you really think I want to walk out that door?"

I wasn't about to be yelled at in my own home, so I stood my ground. "It's what they all do!" I shouted. "And this is my house, so don't scream at me. In fact, don't ever raise your voice at me."

He leaned against the counter, bracing himself, as he shook his head. "I'm not all of them. I get that you've been screwed over by a*sholes. I get it. Have I done anything at all to make you think I'm like them?" he asked, keeping his voice down and controlled. His jaw clenched.

"I know you're not them!" I paced the tiny room. "You think you get it, but you don't. You don't get what you mean to me or how much I care. You don't get how scared I am to get hurt again. So, no, you just don't get it."

As he looked at me incredulously, I thought he was going to sprout another head.

"I don't get it?" he asked with blazing eyes. "Really? I don't get it? First of all, how do you know I won't get it if you won't even talk me? Second of all, don't assume that I'm oblivious to your feelings. Do you even know what you mean to me? Do you have any idea how much I care about you? Do you have an inkling of an idea of how much I think about you or how much I want to be with you? Do you get that at all?"

I couldn't hold back the tears. As I stood in the darkened room, Liam paced, stopped, looked up at the ceiling, and then paced some more. He went from running his hands through his hair to holding the bridge of his nose.

He stopped pacing. "I wasn't battling with that door," he said, pointing to the front door, "but with that one." He pointed toward my bedroom. He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh.

"I care about you too much," I whimpered. "I'm too vulnerable, and that scares me to death."

He came up to me, tilted up my face, and then pressed his lips against mine. "Baby, you're everything to me. You have no idea how much I want you. I'm not going anywhere." He held me tight. "I'm sorry I lost my temper."

When he kissed me sweetly, my body sank into his arms.

I pulled back slightly. "You have nothing to be sorry about. I ruined our evening. I hate that seeing my ex brought my insecurities to the surface. I started thinking of all the worst-case scenarios. I thought you were planning our breakup in the car and being very evil and sadistic about it. I'm sorry for everything."

"When did you think I was being evil and sadistic?" he asked.

"When I was orchestrating your breakup with me."

"You seriously thought I was going to break up with you?"

"As serious as a heart attack."

"It's a good thing I know CPR," he said, dragging me closer to him.

"I'm so sorry." As tears welled in my eyes, I sank into his chest and tightened my hold around him. Liam is not Rick. Liam is Liam.

He rubbed circles on my back. "We're good."

"I hate when I get scared. I become this crazy person that I don't like. How can you like me if I can't stand myself right now? I honestly don't know why you're still here." I looked up for reassurance.

"I'm so crazy about you," he said, smiling softly. "Do you believe me?"

"Yes," I mumbled, nodding my head.

"I have no control over the past. I want a chance to show you that you can trust me. I won't hurt you, at least not on purpose. I'll probably do stupid shit, but I'm not an a*shole, and I have no plans on becoming one."

"I know you're not an a*shole. That's what makes you even more lethal."

He stroked my face with the back of his hand. "You are cute when you're being dramatic. So, what happened today?"

"I was sitting at the table, getting ready to read, when he showed up out of the blue. It was surreal. It was like all the hurt resurfaced, and my heart broke all over again. I told him to leave, and he did. He looked sad, and that made me mad. Then, I thought about how great everything is between us, and I panicked."

"I'm sorry that you had to go through that." He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Honestly, I don't want to hear about old boyfriends, but I do want to know when something hurts you. You can talk to me, and I'll listen to you. You're not alone."

Absorbing his words, I put my head against his chest. I wasn't alone. Liam is Liam.

With the evening being emotional and draining, a yawn escaped me.

"Someone's tired." He kissed the top of my head. "I should get going."

I craved his comfort. He hadn't stayed over yet, but I didn't want him to leave. "Please stay." My arms tightened around him. "I don't want to let you go."

I took his hand and led him toward my room. Stopping in front of the door, his gaze met mine, transfixed. His eyes glanced at my mouth. My lips parted as my eyes closed in response. When his mouth met mine, his tongue slid along my lower lip. I wrapped my arms around his neck and ran my hands through his hair. He pulled me in closer, deepening the kiss. My hands slid down, my fingers lightly caressing his face. He leaned into my touch.

As much as I wanted him, I was nervous. It'd been so long.

He sensed my apprehension. "I'm only going to hold you tonight," he said in a seductively husky voice.

My breathing shallowed while my heart fluttered.

He leaned in and softly kissed me again with his hands on the sides of my face. "I'm going to show you what you mean to me."

When his lips brushed my ear, I moaned softly.

"I'm going to prove to you who I am."

As he kissed my neck, my heart welled up and overflowed. When a tear escaped my eye, he wiped it away with his thumb. While he tucked my hair behind my ears, our eyes locked, his eyes penetrating to the depths of my soul. I'd never felt this before. This wasn't about sex. This was unbridled passion.

He kept his eyes fixed on mine as his hands slid under the hem of my shirt. The sensation of his touch against my bare skin sent shivers throughout my body. After he pulled off my top, he kissed me while his hands carefully explored my body, his touch gentle and sensual.

"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he said, his eyes admiring me.

After I helped him take off his shirt, my hands moved across his chiseled chest. He walked me toward the bed and laid me back on it. Holding my hands over my head, he trailed kisses along my exposed neck and across my collarbone.

He kneeled at the side of the bed and pulled off my boots. As he kneaded my feet, his movements tender, my senses went on overload. When he looked up, his eyes and the expression on his face embraced my heart.

"The first time I looked into your eyes, I wanted to comfort you and hold you," he said as he positioned himself over me.

He eased off my skinny jeans. "When we watched the sunrise, I knew I wasn't going to let you go." He trailed kisses down my legs.

I was panting, nearing orgasm, from just his kisses and touch.

He moved next to me and caressed my face. "You mean everything to me." He kissed me with passion, desire, and something else that was new to me.

When he leaned his head against my forehead, I could barely breathe.

My hand rested on his chest, feeling his heart beat wildly.

"Tonight, it's about you, okay?" he whispered.

I nodded in agreement.

He trailed kisses down my neck while his hands covered my body without hesitation. He unsnapped my bra and pulled it off, revealing my full breasts. His mouth found one nipple as his hand teased the other. The sensation caused a ripple to course through my body. I ran my fingers through his hair and wrapped my legs around him. He continued to assault my senses with his mouth and hands, leading me to my first orgasm. Squeezing my nipple, he worked his way down, nipping and kissing until he reached my panties. His words and touch mixed with my heightened senses sent tremors through my body.

He kissed the inside of my thighs while his hands slid down my body, stopping to toy with the band of my panties. When I lifted my hips, he eased them off.

"You're all I think about," he said, sliding his hand down between my legs.

Aroused could not begin to express the state that I was in. As his fingers began to explore my folds, I could barely keep it together. His fingers circled me gently until two penetrated me. My hips rocked rhythmically with the movement. The pressure was intense, and the orgasm overtook me.

"Liam," I cried out with my release.

Before I could recover, he buried his head between my legs. His tongue licked and circled me. I couldn't control myself. Holding on to his head, my fingers laced through his hair as he slowly sucked on my *. His mouth expertly brought pleasure to me in an indescribable way. I arched, throwing my head back, as I called out his name again in ecstasy.

Pulling himself up, he dragged me into his chest, kissing me with passion and heart. "All yours, baby. I'm all yours," he said, nuzzling his head into my neck.

He got up and returned with a T-shirt for me to wear. He got in bed, wearing nothing but boxers. "Barrier," he said.

When he pulled me close to him, I felt his warmth and his heart. He buried his head in my hair and squeezed me tightly.

Is this what it feels like to be loved?