For the time being.
I know Liam is awake because his fingers are stroking the bare skin on my waist from where my pajama top has ridden up.
I open my eyes and turn my head on the pillow. His eyes are open and staring back at me.
There’s never been a more beautiful sight than the one I’m looking at right now.
Liam in the morning is my heaven on earth. His wavy dark hair is all tousled up, a few strands teasing his forehead. The shadow of his stubble, which grew throughout the night, covers his chin. And, of course, the naked chest is always a bonus.
I think Liam looks younger than his thirty-two years first thing in the morning. Not that he looks old normally. He just seems more carefree and relaxed in these early moments.
Seeing him at ease and here with me makes me happy in a way I can’t explain. There is just something utterly perfect about opening my eyes and seeing Liam beside me.
And knowing it’s not forever, that my time with him is limited, makes me appreciate it all the more.
I smile. “Hey.” My voice sounds croaky.
“How are you feeling?” The deep scratch of his morning voice tickles my skin, making me tingle.
“Better.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.” I smile again to reassure him.
Then, my stomach rumbles loudly. Liam chuckles.
“And, apparently, I’m hungry,” I say.
“I’ll have breakfast brought up.”
“No, we’ll go down and eat with your grandpa.”
“He’ll have eaten by now.”
“What time is it?” I look around for a clock.
“Quarter to eleven.”
“Quarter to eleven!” I exclaim. “I can’t believe how late I slept.”
“You clearly needed it.” He’s looking at me with concern in his eyes.
“Yeah, I guess. How long have you been awake?” I ask, turning on my side to face him. I put my hands under my cheek.
“A while.”
“How long’s a while?”
“Since nine.”
“That’s late for you.” Liam’s an early riser.
“Guess I needed the sleep, too.” His lips lift into a smile.
“So, did you go down and have breakfast and then come back to bed?”
“No. I stayed here with you. I didn’t want to leave in case you needed me.”
My heart leaps out of my chest and Saran Wraps herself to Liam.
“You stayed here? For all that time?” My words come out a whisper.
He lifts the hand from my stomach and brushes my hair off my forehead with his fingers. “It wasn’t that long.”
“Nearly two hours.”
“Like I said, not that long. And I did catch up with some work emails on my phone, so it wasn’t like I just lay here and stared at you the whole time.”
“Just some of the time.” I tease.
His lips curve up. “Well, you’re pretty to look at.”
“Right back at ya, handsome.”
That earns me another smile.
Liam never looks more beautiful than when he’s smiling. Those smiles are all the more special when he’s doing so because of me.
In my head, I try to snapshot as many of Liam’s smiles as I can because I want to take them with me when I go.
“I need to pee,” I tell him.
“Thanks for sharing.”
“Sharing is caring.”
He chuckles, shaking his head at me. “You need a hand to the bathroom?”
“Thanks, but no, thanks. You seeing me puking last night was bad enough. And, anyway, I feel fine now. I can walk to the bathroom all by myself.” I slip out of bed and head to the bathroom.
When I come back, Liam is still in the same place I left him.
I climb back into bed, snuggling into his warmth. His arm comes around me, holding me tight.
“What are we doing today?” I ask him. I know today is clear, as the Grand Prix is tomorrow.
“We’re staying in bed.”
“Does that plan involve having sex? Because I’m all for having sex, lots of it, but it would seem a shame to spend the whole day in bed. We could go out as well and have sex outdoors.” I let a grin out on my face.
He doesn’t even crack a smile. “I didn’t mean, stay in bed to have sex, Boston. You need to rest.”
“I’ve had all the rest I need. I’ve slept for almost half a day. I want to go out and do something.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why?” I frown.
“Because I don’t want what happened last night to happen again today.”
“Hunter”—I touch my fingertips to his face, tracing them up over his cheekbone and around the line of his brow—“I’m fine.”
He’s staring at me, and I can see from the look in his eyes that he doesn’t believe me.
“I’m fine,” I reiterate, pressing the words home. “You know I get headaches from time to time.”
“That wasn’t your run-of-the-mill headache, Taylor. That was a full-fledged fucking migraine that made you puke your guts up. Does your doctor know that you still have headaches and that they affect you in this way?”
No.
“Yes.” I swallow past the lie. “Where do you think the headache pills come from? She prescribes them.”
A lie.