The Ending I Want

by Samantha Towle

  My smile grows wider, my heart swelling.

  I turn to face him. “You made me a picnic?”

  “I did.”

  I touch a hand to his face. “You’re kinda perfect right now, you know that?”

  He gives me a mock-offended look. “I think you meant to say that I’m always perfect.”

  I smile at him. Then, I reach up on my tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re always perfect in bed,” I whisper in his ear, my lips brushing over his skin.

  I love the shiver it elicits from him.

  “Damn fucking right I am.” His voice is a low rasp. “Now, sit down before I show the whole of London just how good at fucking I am when I bend you over this seat and screw you right here.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” I meet his eyes.

  “I guess I haven’t shown you just how far I am willing to go when it comes to you. Looks like I’m going to have to rectify that.”

  Then, he takes my mouth with his, kissing me like he means it. His strong hands gripping the back of my dress, he brings me into his hard body. His hips press into my stomach, and I feel his erection against me.

  He wasn’t kidding. But is he really going to screw me on an open-top bus in the middle of London in broad daylight?

  The bus suddenly lurches forward, breaking our hot little moment.

  Liam’s eyes are blazing down on mine. His hand caresses my cheek. “We’ll save the sex for later. Right now, you’re going to see the sights that London has to offer.”

  I take my seat, squirming in it. My panties are soaked to hell, and I’m wondering just how long this tour is going to take, so we can get back to my hotel and get on with the sex.

  Yes, I’ve turned into a total sex maniac, and I blame Liam Hunter entirely for being so damn good at it.

  “A carnival. You’ve brought me to a carnival.” I smile warmly up at Liam.

  It’s early evening. The bus dropped us off at Hyde Park, and a carnival is happening here.

  “Well, we don’t call it a carnival. It’s a funfair to us English folk. But is it okay, bringing you here?” Liam stares down at me. “I know it’s not something on your list, but—”

  “It’s great.” I beam. “I love carnivals or funfairs or whatever they’re called!”

  Well, I don’t like the rides—at all. I don’t mind the small rides—okay, the kiddie rides, which I can’t get away with riding because I don’t have a kid. But I just love playing the games in the booths along with the popcorn and cotton candy and candy apples. I have a sweet tooth, if you didn’t guess.

  I love it all, the atmosphere and fun to be had, and I am so ready to have this kind of fun.

  Not that the tour of London wasn’t fun. It was amazing, seeing all the sights and sharing the picnic that Liam had made for us. I swear, if he ever decides to give up being a businessman, he’ll make someone a great house husband one day. But the day was tainted with a little sadness for me. I couldn’t help but think about my mother growing up here, especially when we drove around Knightsbridge.

  And thinking about my mother leads to thinking about the rest of my family…and it hurts.

  But I’m not here to hurt or dwell. I’ll be seeing my family really soon.

  Now is the time for me to live in the little life that I have left.

  And I want to do that living with Liam.

  Grabbing ahold of his hand, I start speed-walking us into the carnival.

  “I take it, this was a good call to come here then.” Liam chuckles.

  “It was a great call.” I slow down, so we’re walking side by side.

  Liam drops my hand and puts his arm over my shoulder, pulling me close to his side.

  “What do you want to do first?” Liam asks as we start walking down the path lined with booths selling trinkets and food.

  “You choose,” I tell him.

  A smile crosses his face. “Do you like rides?”

  I grimace. “No,” I respond immediately because I really dislike rides.

  Being strapped in while you go at crazy speeds and up to stupid heights or get thrown around? No, thanks.

  Then, I stop myself. Like, literally, I stop walking.

  Liam stops, too, and moves to stand in front of me. “You okay?” he asks, a touch of concern furrowing his brow.

  “Yeah.” I nod. “Just…I hate rides. Well, maybe not hate, but I definitely dislike them a significant amount.”

  “That was very specific.”

  “I’m a specific kinda girl.” I flash my eyes at him.

  “Okay, Miss Specific, how about we just hit up the stalls and eat food, and then I can kick your arse at games?”

  I pause again, caught in my thoughts.

  “You there?” Liam waves a hand in front of my face.

  “I’m thinking,” I tell him.

  “Do I need to sit down for this? Is it going to take a while?”

  “No. But then again, five minutes is a long time for an old man like you, so maybe you should sit.” I smirk.

  He shakes his head at me. “I might just sit down, so I can put you over my knee and spank your arse for being smart.”

  “So, I get spanked for being smart? Sounds like a win-win to me.” I widen my grin.

  He chuckles. “See? That’s why I like you, Boston.”

  “’Cause I let you spank me?”

  Stepping closer, he pushes his fingers into my hair. “That, and”—he brushes his lips over mine—“because that smart mouth of yours gets my dick hard at the most inappropriate moments.”

  His lips touch mine again, and I feel his erection press into my hip.

  “Do you need to stand here for a moment while he goes down?” I flick a look south, my lips pushing up.

  “Yeah.” He chuckles. “Tell me where we were before spankings and my erection?”

  “I was thinking.”

  “Oh, yeah. How’s that working out for you?”

  “Quite well.” I meet his smiling eyes. “I think I should go on the rides because I dislike them.”

  “Did you drink alcohol before you came out today?”

  “Funny.” I stick my tongue out at him. “No, it’s on my list. I have to do something that scares me.”

  “If I remember rightly, it said, do something that terrifies you to the point of pissing your pants.”

  “Do you remember everything? Like literally everything?”

  “Only the things that matter.”

  “My list matters to you?”

  “It matters to you.”

  Oh. Wow. Breath is knocked from my lungs.

  “So, which ride scares the shit out of you?” Liam is talking again, back to normal, while I’m still gasping for air.

  “Roller coaster,” I say without hesitation. “They always look rickety and unsafe, and they take you up to stupid heights and then drop you back down at stupid speeds.”

  “Roller coaster, it is then.” Liam grabs my hand and starts walking, dragging me behind him.

  “Now?” I squeak.

  He looks back at me but keeps walking. “Yep. If you don’t ride the roller coaster now, you won’t ever do it.”

  True.

  “But…what about your erection?” Okay, I said that quite loud, and it earns me a few looks.

  Liam bellows out a laugh. “Down for now. Although keeping talking like that, and he’ll make another appearance.”

  “Okay, well, what about food? Shouldn’t we eat first?” I’m totally stalling.

  Stop stalling, Taylor.

  Liam stops abruptly, and I almost crash into the back of him.

  That’s when I see that we’re standing in front of a roller coaster ride.

  “No one eats before a roller coaster unless they intend on puking. So, it’s decision time, Boston. We either ditch the roller coaster and go get food—even though I know you’re not hungry because we only ate an hour ago and that you’re just stalling before making another excuse, and then we’ll never end up ridi
ng this roller coaster because you’ll let your fear talk you out of it—or you can pull your big-girl knickers on and ride the fuck out of this roller coaster.”

  “Big-girl knickers? Seriously, Hunter? That might be the unsexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  He tilts his head to the side. “Seriously? Because I think you’d look hot in big knickers.”

  “Really?” I blink, trying to picture that.

  Nope, not working for me at all.

  “Really.” He gives me a sexy smile. The look in his eyes is like he’s actually imagining me in them right now.

  And, now, I’m thinking about where I can find a store in London that sells big knickers.

  “But we’re saving big knickers for later,” he says.

  “We are?”

  “Quit stalling, Boston.” He gives me a look.

  He’s right. I’m totally stalling. Again.

  “Now, are we riding the fuck out of this roller coaster or not?”

  I take a breath and blow it out. “We’re riding the fuck out of it.”

  A smile lifts his gorgeous lips. “Good girl. And, just so you know, I intend to ride the fuck out of you later tonight.”

  Sweet baby Jesus. He’s so fucking hot.

  Liam gives me a quick firm kiss on the lips and grabs my hand, and then I’m moving again.

  He brings us to a stop at the ticket booth. “Two tickets, please,” he tells the woman sitting in the booth.

  “Twenty pounds,” she tells him.

  Liam hands her a bill, and she passes him two tickets. He grabs my hand again, and we move up the walkway to the ride together.

  We’ve come at the right time, as the roller coaster has just finished unloading the last lot of passengers and is starting to fill up with new ones.

  So, at least I won’t be waiting around.

  Even still, my heart is beating like a bitch in my chest, and I’m shitting my pants.

  I know. I have a tumor literally growing in my brain, killing me—and I’m letting it…I’m doing nothing to try to stop it—but I’m afraid of a stupid roller coaster.

  Doesn’t make sense, does it? But then fear isn’t exactly rational. It doesn’t let us pick and choose. It just is.

  And dying to me isn’t the thing I’m afraid of. Not since I lost my family anyway.

  It’s living that scares me.

  Living without them—that’s what terrifies me.

  Dying and being with them—that will be a welcome relief.

  I stare up at the roller coaster, which looks a hell of a lot bigger and higher than it did the first time I looked up at it. It must be at least a couple of hundred feet at its highest point.

  “Do you think it looks safe to you?” I whisper to Liam as we’re in line to get on.

  “It’s safe.” He squeezes my hand.

  If I don’t care about dying, then why do I care if this ride looks safe enough?

  Because I don’t want anything to happen to Liam.

  And fear, like I said, is not rational.

  But it is a state of mind.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and force the stupid fear out of my thoughts.

  Liam tugs on my hand, and I see the ride attendant waiting to let us on the ride.

  “You sure you want to do this?” Liam leans his head close to mine, his voice just above a whisper.

  I stare back at him and force a loose smile onto my lips. “I’m sure. Just…don’t let go of my hand, okay?”

  His eyes move down to my hand that he’s holding, as if he’s just realizing he’s still holding it. Then, he looks back to my face. “I won’t let go, Boston. I promise.” Then, he leads me onto the ride.

  What is it about someone holding your hand that makes you feel safe?

  It’s not that they can save you or change things or make a difference by holding your hand.

  But, somehow, someone just holding on to you in that small way can make the scariest things seem a little easier.

  Because you know that, no matter what, they have you, and they’re not letting go.

  And, right now, Liam has me, and he’s not letting go.

  The ride attendant secures us in our seats with the harness, and then the metal barrier comes down over us.

  Liam squeezes my hand that he’s still holding. “You doing okay there, Boston?”

  I move my eyes to his and off the roller coaster that I’ve been examining to make sure it’s fixed together properly—like I would actually know.

  “Mmhmm.”

  “There’s nothing to be worried about.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  He chuckles. “Do something for me. Think about when we get to the top of the ride.”

  “I really don’t want to think about that. That’s actually the last thing I want to think about.”

  Thinking about being up there, in this rickety car on a set of tracks a couple of hundred feet off the ground, while it pauses to scare the crap out of me more before it drops back down those couple of hundred feet…um…no, thanks.

  My heart starts pumping in my chest, and my hand tightens around Liam’s, a pulse starting in my head.

  God, please don’t let me have a headache now. Not now.

  And I swear, if I die on this roller coaster, if the tumor decides to take me out on here, I’ll be really pissed.

  “Boston,” he softly says my nickname, “when we reach the top, we’ll be at one of the highest points in London, aside from the London Eye. From up there, you’ll be able to see all of London at sunset. And, trust me, the sight is so fucking beautiful that you won’t care about how high you are or how afraid you feel. You’ll just care about the view and the way it makes you feel.”

  I close my eyes and release a breath. “How did you get to be so brave?”

  He chuckles low. I open my eyes.

  “I’m not brave, babe. A lot of things scare me.” He’s staring into my eyes, and the look in them is making my heart beat faster. “I just refuse to let those fears control me.”

  Our car jerks forward and starts moving. My hand tightens around Liam’s, my mouth drying.

  “Just keep looking at me,” he says gently.

  So, I do. I stare into his eyes that remind me of autumn, and I don’t look away.

  “My grandpa used to be in the Royal Air Force when he was younger,” Liam tells me. “He loved to fly. He had his own airplane. Still does. When I was twelve, he told me that he thought it was time that I learned how to fly a plane.”

  “You flew a plane when you were twelve?” I give him a shocked look.

  “My grandpa’s not exactly on the conventional side.” The fondness on his face tells me that his grandpa means a great deal to him. “And when I say ‘fly’”—he air quotes—“it was him flying and me being copilot. But twelve-year-old me thought that he meant literally fly the plane. So, I was shitting myself.”

  “I can imagine. I’d shit if someone said that to me now, and I’m twenty-two.”

  Liam laughs. “I think you’d probably surprise yourself.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure I’d surprise the person sitting with me—you know, after I shit myself.”

  The laughter that comes from him this time is deeper and louder, and it brings a glow to my chest.

  “So, did you fly this plane when you were twelve?” I ask him. I could totally see him doing something crazy like that.

  “Well, I’d been flying with my grandpa since I started walking,” he says, not answering my question directly.

  I get that there’s a point to what he’s telling me.

  “He used to take me up in his plane, and we’d fly for what felt like hours. We’d just be up there, and I loved it. But the thought of being the one in control of the plane…totally different ball game.”

  “No kidding,” I say.

  “Grandpa told me that we’d go out on the weekend. So, for the whole week leading up to it, I was worried, and the more I thought about it, the worse I felt. It wasn’t about being u
p in the sky. I loved that. It was the thought that he wanted me to do something…so big. The closer we got to the weekend, the more afraid I got. I even thought about faking an illness, so I wouldn’t have to go. But then I knew he’d just reschedule for another time. And…”

  He briefly looks away from me, and I wonder if it’s because he doesn’t want me to see what’s in his eyes. But then he’s back looking at me, and I feel better for it. His eyes on me…just makes me feel better.

  “He’d taken me into his home and cared for me, and I guess…I didn’t want to let him down. So, I told myself that I had to man up and do it.”

  I keep getting these snippets of Liam but nothing tangible to tie any of them together.

  “Saturday morning rolled up, and Grandpa got me up early. He drove us to the airfield, and I felt like vomiting the whole way there.”

  “I would have vomited without a doubt.”

  He chuckles. “So, we got there. Got out of the car. Walked over to his airplane. The whole time, I’m telling myself I can do this. Then, I got up to the plane, and I just froze. I literally couldn’t move. Total freak-out moment.”

  “Understandable. You were twelve, and your grandpa was asking you to fly a plane.”

  His laugh is rich and deep. “Grandpa realized I wasn’t moving, and he asked me what was wrong. I was embarrassed to tell him the truth—that I was afraid—but I also didn’t have another excuse to get out of it. I felt cornered, so I told him that I didn’t want to fly his plane because I hated flying with him, which wasn’t true. I loved being up in the sky with him. But my fear had gotten the better of me, so I lied. And, in turn, I hurt him. I saw it in his eyes, and that made me feel sick for real. So, I fessed up the truth. I told him that I didn’t want to learn to fly because I was afraid.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He hugged me. My grandpa’s kind of a hugger. You’ll learn that when you meet him.”

  I’m going to meet his grandpa?

  “And then he said to me, ‘Liam, there’s nothing wrong with being afraid. Everyone feels fear. But the day you let your fear control you is the day you stop living. Really living.’ Then, he asked me if I wanted to live.”

  My eyes are on Liam’s face. I’m riveted. I’ve forgotten that I’m on a roller coaster and that it’s currently climbing hundreds of feet in the air. Well, I haven’t forgotten, but it’s not at the forefront of my mind. What Liam is telling me is. Because it matters to me, more than he could ever realize.