And it is fine. I’m just relieved it’s the scar he’s searching for and not the tumor.
Thank God he can’t feel what’s growing beneath the skin and skull because that’s what I want to hide from him. Not my old scar.
His fingertips trace the line of the scar. It’s not a thick scar. Surprisingly thin. But it’s long.
His finger follows it around to the back of my head. Cupping the back of my head with his hand, his other hand against my cheek, he tilts my head back, so I’m staring into his eyes.
“You’re the bravest person I’ve ever known, Boston,” he whispers. “I feel in awe…and so fucking lucky to know you.”
I’m not brave, Liam. I’m weak and a coward. You’re the brave one. You’re amazing and kind and generous. You are all the things I wish I could have been.
I want to say all those things to him. But I can’t.
So, I close my eyes and bring my mouth to his, kissing him, trying to tell him with this kiss what I can’t say in words.
The kiss has just started to deepen when my stomach rumbles again, spoiling the moment.
Liam chuckles into my mouth. “Guess that’s our cue to get up and get some food.”
I release a sigh. “I guess so.”
Liam kisses me once last time and then gets out of bed.
I climb out of bed. “Should I get dressed for breakfast?” I ask him, staring down at my pajamas.
“No, you’re fine. We’ll eat, and then we’ll come back up, dress, and go out.”
“So, we are going out.” I brighten up.
He moves around the bed toward me. “I had planned for us to do something today.” He wraps his arms around my waist and bites his lip. A look of uncertainty spreads across his face.
“Why the look?” I ask.
“Well…I’m just not sure if you’ll like what I have planned.”
“So, tell me what it is, and then I’ll decide if I like it or not.”
“Nope. No way. I’m not going on that thing. You know I don’t like flying, Hunter. No fucking way am I getting on that plane.”
I’m standing in front of a small plane, similar to the one in the picture of Liam and Kate—the fiancée. Yep, not going there again.
Except this one doesn’t have his company logo on the side, and it’s white with a black underbelly and a black-and-bronze tail. And I can see a sign that says we’re at London Oxford Airport. Good to know where I am at least.
Back at the house, Liam wouldn’t tell me what he had planned. And then he insisted on blindfolding me.
Blindfolded. I know, right? Sounds awesome. Would have been awesome and totally kinky if there had been sex involved. But an airplane? Not remotely sexy at all.
Standing behind me, his hands on my shoulders, Liam laughs, and I feel it rumble in his chest against my back.
“Boston, you flew on a plane to get to England.”
Turning my head, I slide my eyes up to his. “I flew on that plane—your plane—to get me here for my trip. Necessity. No way in hell am I flying in a plane for the fun of it.” I fold my arms over my chest.
Liam moves around me to stand in front of me. He closes his hands around my upper arms. “I know you don’t like flying, but I thought you wanted to do something that terrified you to the point of pissing your pants?”
“Stop quoting my list to me. And I did do something that scared me—the roller coaster, remember?”
Smiling, he says, “I remember. But you didn’t piss your pants, so you couldn’t have been that scared.”
“Oh, I was scared. Believe me. And how do you know I didn’t piss myself?”
“Because I fucked the hell out of you soon after. The only wet patch on your knickers was from me making you come.”
Good point. My mind immediately slips back to that moment in the Hook a Duck tent, making my insides coil. Awesome memory.
“So, I didn’t piss myself. But I was definitely afraid.”
Liam slides his hands down my arms, forcing me to loosen and release them from my chest. He takes my hands in his, holding them between us. “I know you were scared. But after the fear left, do you remember how you felt?”
“Relieved that I’d done it and that I’d never have to do it again.”
He laughs a rich deep sound, shaking his head. “You were happy. I could see it in your eyes. You had this look…you looked free, Boston.”
Maybe, in that moment, I was. But I’m not free. I won’t be free until I see them again. Until I pay my penance.
Liam steps closer. So close that I have to tilt my face to look up at him. His scent washes over me, easing the fear inside.
“He who has overcome his fears will truly be free.”
“And you can stop fucking quoting Aristotle to me as well.” I frown, but it’s not as deep as it should be, and that’s because of him and his infectious laugh and his smiling face and his sparkling autumn eyes.
Damn him.
Liam’s laughter fades. His expression deepens, his eyes turning serious. “You’ve faced a brain tumor and survived. Not many people can say that.”