by Noelle Adams
“Liam!” I give him an indignant poke in the side.
Kelly just laughs. “He’s a chubby one. It feels like he’s twice as heavy as Laura was at his age.”
While we talk, Liam has unstrapped the baby from the carrier, and he now picks him up, holding him up above him for a minute in a way that makes Logan babble happily. “He seems about right, other than being irrationally happy all the time.”
“Maybe it’s not irrational,” I say, laughing with Kelly at the incongruity of Liam’s cuddling of the baby and his very dry tone. “Maybe Logan just knows more than you about all the reasons to be happy.”
Liam’s eyes meet mine above Logan’s smooth little head. “Could be.”
I swallow and glance toward Kelly, who’s giving us a decidedly curious look.
Liam talks to Logan for a few minutes, discussing the nature of his outfit (with a variety of trains and airplanes on it) and how his mom is going to hate to leave him next week to come back to work with such a difficult, bad-tempered man.
My heart melts into a puddle as I watch him. I remember what he said earlier this week about how he’d like to have kids. He’s just in his thirties. He has plenty of time to start a family. Just because he lost his first chance at it doesn’t mean he can’t have it now.
I want him to have it. I want it so much that my heart hurts like a wound in my chest.
Even if it isn’t with me, I want him to have that eventually. I want him to have everything he desires. Everything good in life that he wants.
He deserves so much more than burying himself in work because he’s afraid of living for real.
My eyes are burning with this recognition, and I have to look away to control myself. It’s a terrible time for this kind of emotional revelation. Kelly is smart and observant, and I’m afraid she might have seen what was on my face a moment ago.
Fortunately, Liam is distracted by the baby, so he doesn’t notice me at all.
“SO YOU’RE NOT GOING to miss us at all?” May’s pretty, freckled face is shaped into exaggerated dismay that makes me laugh.
We’d planned to have lunch together today since it’s my last day, and she stopped by the office at just the right time for me to make an escape from an emotionally vulnerable situation. We walked over to the dining hall and have been chatting for almost a half hour now.
“That’s not what I meant! I just mean that an administrative assistant’s job isn’t really the right fit for me. I haven’t minded it. At all. And I’ve loved the people I’ve met here. But it’s not what I want to be doing long-term.”
“I get that. Well, maybe after you get your PhD, you can come back as a French professor. What about that?”
“I would have no objections to that plan. But searching for faculty jobs in languages is hard going, so the chances of a position being open here when I need it aren’t very good.”
“Well, you never know. I hate having made a new friend and then having her leave right after I get to know her.”
I smile at May. I feel the same way. Making friends isn’t always easy for me, and it feels like May is a real one. “I won’t be that far away. I’ll be coming back to see my mom all the time. And I won’t be going back to Charlottesville for at least another month.”
“I guess that’s something.” She pauses. “I guess you’ll be relieved not to have to deal with Liam anymore.”
I roll my eyes at her mischievous slanting look.
“I mean, all the stress and angst and uncertainty. Good to get that over with.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you’ll finally get to know if anything might happen.”
“Uh-huh.”
May makes a face at me. “Just how broadly do I have to hint here? I want to know what’s happening!”
I giggle. “I know. And the truth is I’d like to know what’s happening too, but I just don’t know.”
“So he hasn’t said anything?”
“Nope.”
“And you haven’t had another almost kiss?”
I hesitated. I never told her I had sex with Liam. I never told anyone. It’s just too intimate. Too messy. Even to share with a friend.
“He has?”
“Not... exactly.”
“But something’s happened that makes you think there might be a chance?”
I nod slowly. “Yes. I have a little... hope. But nothing for certain. He hasn’t said anything.”
“Well, he wouldn’t. You’re still working for him. But you won’t be after five o’clock tonight. So who knows?”
“Yes. Who knows?” My stomach flips around with excitement and anxiety both.
“You want something to happen, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah. I guess. But it’s complicated. I still don’t know how it would work even if both of us want it to. I need to finish my PhD.”
“That won’t be a big deal to someone who really cares about you. Good relationships are flexible enough to allow for both people to do what they’re called to do. If he doesn’t want to make it work with you in Charlottesville for another year or two, then it’s not going to have much of a future.”
“I know. But I’m just afraid it’s too early to deal with something like that. I mean, we’ve only known each other a month and a half.”
“But you’ve been working together for eight hours a day for all that time. You know him a lot better than most people who’ve gone on dates once a week for six months.”
“That’s true.” I shift in my seat and hug my arms to my belly. “I really don’t know. I don’t want to get my hopes up since he’s giving me no reason to do so. But I haven’t been into a guy like this since... since... ever.”
May leans over and pats my arm in a comforting manner. “I’ve got good vibes about this. I think it’s going to work out.”
I hope she’s right, but I don’t know.
At the moment, I feel like I don’t know anything at all.
AT THE END OF THE WORKDAY, the executive suite takes me out for an early dinner to thank me for my work. It’s everyone except the president (who’s out of town for the weekend), and we go to a local Italian place within walking distance of campus.
Everyone is friendly and encouraging. They ask me about my plans for the future and my PhD program and how my mother is doing. They tell me to stop by to say hello occasionally whenever I’m in town. It’s a nice dinner. It feels genuine. These people appear to really like me, and I like all of them.
If Liam hadn’t been silent and brooding the whole time, I’d have only positive feelings about my temporary job at Milford.
But Liam hardly says anything. He doesn’t laugh when the others do, and there isn’t even a smile in his eyes.
I would have thought—had he been looking forward to my job ending so he could pursue a relationship with me—he would have been excited about the fact that I no longer work for him.
He doesn’t act excited. I’m not sure how to interpret how he’s acting. So I’m nervous and jittery as we all walk back to campus, ending up in the main faculty and staff parking lot where the others say goodbye and head for their cars.
“Your car’s over there?” Liam asks softly, nodding toward my inexpensive sedan parked by itself in a far corner of the lot. Nearly everyone is gone. It’s Friday evening after seven. Only some security staff, a couple of people working in the library, and the folks in Admissions who make evening calls to prospective students are still around.
“Yeah, but I left some stuff in the office, so I need to stop there first.”
“Okay. I’ll walk with you.”
In silence, we head back toward the administration building and then down the hall to the executive suite. I have a small box in which I collected the few things I left here over the past weeks. A couple of travel mugs. An insulated lunch sack that I could never remember to take home. A little cardigan I put on when the temperature in the office was too cool. And a few trinkets—mostly Milford swag—that people gav
e me as farewell gifts.
It’s set neatly on the corner of the desk. I already turned the computer off and placed a short memo to Kelly in the inbox, outlining the things I wasn’t sure how to do that I left for her return.
I stare down at the floor since Liam is just standing in front of me. Motionless. “Okay,” I say at last.
“Okay.”
“I submitted my last timecard before we left. Would you mind signing off on it?”
“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” He looks relieved to have something to do. He goes into his office and sits at his computer.
I follow him, waiting near his desk as he pulls up the automated email he received when I submitted my timecard just before we left for dinner. He clicks the link from the email, glances over the hours I submitted (obviously not double-checking them the way he’s supposed to), and then verifies them with his electronic signature.
Then he closes out of the program and deletes the email.
He stares at the list of unread messages in his inbox for a few moments.
“Okay,” I say at last, mostly just for something to say.
“Okay.” He’s gruff. Still not looking for me.
“I guess that’s it.”
“Yeah.” He stands up and walks around the desk to where I’m standing.
“I guess...” When I realize I’m about to repeat myself, I trail off.
He seems to think I said something coherent. “I guess.”
“I’m done then.” My heart has been accelerating for the past half hour, and now it’s pounding in my chest and my head. “I don’t work for you anymore.”
“No. You don’t.”
I risk a glance up at him, just when he’s doing the same thing. Our eyes meet across the few inches of distance.
The tension suddenly breaks like a branch in a storm. He makes a guttural sound and grabs my head in both his hands, pulling me toward him as he tilts his down to meet my lips.
The kiss is hard and deep and hungry, like all the energy shuddering between us for the past few weeks got channeled into this one act. My head spins as I grab for his shoulders, trying to hold on against the intensity of the way he’s moving his mouth and his hands.
Without breaking the kiss, he stretches a hand out to push closed the office door. It slams with a surprisingly loud sound. I’m far too distracted to think much about it, however. His hands are moving all over my back and butt. His tongue is deep in my mouth. And I’m so overwhelmed with emotion—and so aroused already—that I can hardly take a full breath.
I give a little squeal when he suddenly pushes me backward until my body is braced against the wall. It’s such a fierce gesture that I’m thrilled and amused at the same time. When he breaks the kiss to run his mouth down my neck, I mumble, “Could have knocked me out with that move.”
He huffs in obvious amusement, but his mouth never stops what it’s doing against the pulse in my throat. “Only if your head rebounded.” He gives me a little nip that makes me gasp. “Did it rebound?”
“No, but it could have. I expect a little concern for my safety, even in the midst of hot sex.”
“Hot sex? All we’re doing is kissing right now.” He straightens up and captures my mouth again, his tongue greedy and insistent.
“We’re doing... way more... than kissing.” I have to pant the words out against his mouth since he’s definitely not giving me much of a break to talk.
“Yeah, we are.” As if in proof, one of his hands lowers to cup my bottom, pressing my pelvis against his.
He’s hard in his pants. I can feel him very clearly. He grinds the bulge against me until my inner muscles clamp down hard in excitement, as if I already want to pull him inside me.
But that reminds me of something else. “Liam, wait.”
He was just about to kiss my throat again, but he freezes at my words, his head poised in the crook of my neck.
“We’ll need a condom. I’m not on birth control. I’ve got one in my bag. You want me to...”
“Yeah.” He lets out a shuddering exhale that lets me know he was afraid I was ending this for good. “Yeah, good thought.”
I stumble out of the office on weak legs, fumble with the inner pocket of my bag until I find a condom packet, and then hurry back. I close the door and lock it before I turn toward Liam again.
He’s standing right in front of me, and he grabs me and pushes me back against the wall before I can get a word out.
I’m not sure what I was trying to say anyway.
We kiss passionately, his hands moving all over my body and one of my legs trying to wrap around his thighs so I can get some friction where I need it. Finally I pull my mouth away and ask, “Are we going to try to do this against the wall?”
He straightens up, flushed and panting and rumpled and sexy as hell. “We could.”
“It might be hard on your back. And it will definitely be hard on my back.” I glance over at his neat, mostly empty desk. “The desk might be hot.”
He gives me a smile that’s almost feral. “Desk it is.”
Before I can take a step, he swings me up and carries me. It is kind of thrilling. I can’t deny it. I’m not the tiniest woman in the world, and I’m definitely not used to being carried. But he’s strong enough to make me feel small. “Very romantic. Carrying me over to the desk to fuck me.”
He chuckles warmly as he deposits me on the side edge of the desk. The edge of it pokes into my butt, but it’s certainly going to be more comfortable than the wall.
“I’m all kinds of romantic. Don’t you know that by now?” He stares down at me for a moment before he pulls my top off over my head. I have a pink bra on today. It’s one of my prettiest (for no particular reason). My breasts are too large to wear flimsy, delicate lingerie, but I figure the bra is as attractive as I can get.
Liam definitely seems to like it. His eyes move from my face down to my chest and linger there hotly.
I’m about to say something light—hopefully clever—to break the self-consciousness I start to feel, but he kisses me again before I can.
Kissing is better than talking. It only takes me a minute to get fully into it again. My arms wrap around his neck as I stretch toward him. My skirt is fairly loose, but he hikes it all the way up to my hips so he can fit between my legs.
“I can’t wait much longer,” I say after a couple of minutes, during which my body flushes hot and a pulsing ache grows at my center.
“You’re the one with the condom, honey.”
“Oh. Yeah.” I giggle as I retrieve my arm from around his neck and hand him the condom. Figuring I’ll make things easier while he rips it open, I slide my panties off over my legs. I’m wearing boots, but they’ll be a pain to take off, so I maneuver my underwear over them too.
By the time I’ve done so, Liam has undone his trousers and rolled the condom on. We stare at each other for a few seconds before he spreads my legs farther apart. I brace myself on the desk surface behind me as he moves into position, lining himself up. He bends his knees a little and lifts my hips some to get us into position.
“Please,” I breathe, when he holds himself still, poised right on the edge.
He closes his eyes and lets out a low groan as he thrusts himself home.
That’s what it feels like. Home. The hardness of him inside me. His big, hot body against mine. Right. Familiar. Safe and thrilling at the same time.
Like it’s where I belong.
I whimper in pleasure as I wriggle my hips. I don’t have a lot of freedom of motion and less so as he starts to thrust hard and fast.
The force of it and the sensations that flood me buckle my elbows. I collapse back onto the desk, reaching out to fumble for purchase on the edges.
“Liam,” I gasp as his vigorous motion shakes my whole body. I can feel the blotter against the bare skin of my back.
“Fuck, yes, Polly. So good. You’re so good. You feel so good.” He’s muttering the words out, his hot brown eyes raking up and dow
n from my face to the place where we’re joined.
My legs are loose and awkward, but then he takes one of them and bends it so the knee comes toward my shoulder. It changes the angle of penetration and secures my body at the same time.
I cry out in pleasure, biting my bottom lip as I realize I can’t be too loud. “Like that. Just like that. Liam, please.”
He’s grunting like an animal, releasing a rough sound with each instroke. His face is contorting with effort. The whole thing is so rough, primal, raw that I can’t believe it’s happening to me.
My whole body is throbbing with the need to come. I gasp and whimper with the sweet agony of it until I find the coordination to reach down and rub my clit.
The extra stimulation pushes me over the edge, and I come hard, shaking through the spasms with a lot of sloppy sounds, muffled as I stuff my free fist into my mouth to keep myself quiet.
He keeps pushing against the contractions, and I’ve come down enough to focus on his face as he lets go too. The release twists his face and blazes out in his eyes. His climax takes him hard. I can feel it pulsing through his body.
And in that moment, I know—I know—that this feels like home to him too. I can see it in the flood of feeling in his eyes.
But maybe it’s just the flood of chemicals from the orgasm tricking me. Because that absolute knowledge doesn’t last long.
Our bodies stay tangled together, jerking occasionally with little aftershocks. Then he pulls out and takes care of the condom while I sit up and try to pull myself back together.
I’m still tingling from the sex, but my emotions have shifted into something else. Something not nearly so good.
Because Liam doesn’t meet my eyes as he ties off the condom and zips his pants and tucks in his shirt. He’s still wearing the tie he’s had on all day. His beard is a mess, and his hair is standing on end.
I set my feet back on the floor and peer at him, trying to understand what he’s feeling.
Surely this is the time to say something.
You don’t jump someone the moment they no longer work for you and then not say something afterward. Something that will clear things up. That will make it clear you want to continue the relationship.