A Broken Us (London Lover Series Book 1) (13 page)

Liam grabs my arm roughly, “Seriously! What the
hell, Finley?” he asks, looking for answers. Answers I don’t have. Answers I
don’t want to give him because it’s hard enough saying it in my head, let alone
out loud.

“Is there a problem here, mate?” Frank
interjects, eyeing Liam seriously.

Liam pushes his hand through his hair.

“Course not, Frank. I’m just trying to
understand Finley a bit better,” he says.

Frank looks to me, then to Liam.

“I think Finley just wants to have a bit of fun
tonight. So let’s do that, shall we? C’mon lad, you can dance with me!”

 
Frank leads Liam into the living room and
Leslie comes up behind me with two cups of punch and hands one over to me.

“Come on! I need you to dance with me and keep
me away from Theo!” I laugh, and let her drag me into the living room.

Leslie drags me to the middle of the dance
floor and I lose myself in the music for awhile, willing my brain to not think
about the vague comment I’d made to Liam. I don’t know why the hell I even said
it.
Damn Tippy Cup, it really sneaks up
on you.

A few songs later, I feel a pair of hands slide
around my hips and cinch me up close. I turn my head, grateful to see Liam, and
not Ethan. I’m done with the drama. My mom told me to give Liam a chance and
all I’ve been doing is pissing him off and testing him. Let’s cut the crap and
see where this goes.

I turn around and curl my hands up behind his
neck and move with his body. He leans his lips into my neck, kisses me softly,
and blows air down my neck and chest. I squirm with the feverish feeling his
lips are causing on me.

We continue dancing for a few more songs. Liam
ditches his jacket and vicar collar; he looks incredibly handsome in his black
shirt and jeans. I rub my hands along his chest and belly. His body feels
different than Brody’s. Firmer, more rigid. Brody was physically fit but he
wasn’t quite as sculpted as Liam.

Liam moves his lips up to my ear and whispers,
“I want to see your room.”

I smile at him, “Okay,
Captain Obvious
.”

His chest rumbles as he laughs.

“I just want to see if you’re all unpacked.”

I nod and look over to Leslie who is dancing
awkwardly with Frank and attempting to stay as far away from Theo as possible.
Theo is sitting on the arm of the couch, drinking and brooding by himself.
Ethan and James have latched onto Leslie’s coworkers and Mitch and Julie are
full-on making out on the dance floor.

I motion to Leslie that I’m taking Liam
upstairs and she eyes me cautiously. I nod that I’ll be okay and am grateful we
can have a silent conversation around a room full of people.

I lead Liam up the wooden staircase and feel
his finger brush the hem of my skirt as we stop on the second floor landing. I
swerve around and eye him cautiously.

“Looks like it’s you I should be watching out
for, not Ethan,” I say, haughtily.

He shakes his head side to side, “This dress,”
he says, placing a hand on my side and slowly moving it down to my thigh. “It’s
way too short.”

“Too short for who?” I ask.

“For your father’s approval, I guess. I don’t
know. It’s just been hard to watch you walk around in this all evening with
everyone’s eyes on you. I should give you a proper talking to,” he says,
laughing cheekily as he presses me against the wall.

“A talking to, huh?” I reply. What a lame
reply, I can’t think of anything better though when he’s looking at me this
way.

He looks down at my lips for a few seconds,
then up to my eyes as he leans in and kisses me. My hands are splayed against
the wall beside me as his tongue enters my mouth. He strokes his hands down my
arms and laces them with my fingers.

This kiss feels a little different than the
last one. It’s a good kiss—a steamy kiss. I can tell he’s using the same
technique as he did in the skate park, but for whatever reason, all I’m
thinking about is Brody kissing Olivia.

I tilt my head and kiss him back harder,
desperately willing away thoughts of Brody and Olivia. Liam takes my response
positively and presses his body up against mine, his hands roving upward to the
sides of my breasts. He feels so good. He feels so strong. But most of all, he
feels so different.

I break the kiss quickly and look away, trying
to get a grip on my emotions.

Liam turns my face toward him.

“Did I do something wrong?”

I compose myself and shake my head.

“Of course not!” I say, a bit too brightly.

“I feel like you’re somewhere else,” he says,
softly, looking down at my chest, but staying close to me.

“Let’s move this upstairs,” I reply without
addressing his concern.

He looks sad, but follows me up the next flight
anyway. When we come into my room, I walk over to the window to look outside,
trying to get as close to a breath of fresh air as I can. Liam walks around my
room, inspecting the very few possessions I brought. As I look at it from his
perspective, it’s kind of pathetic, really.

On one wall are my clothes and shoes. On the
other wall is my laptop and a few books. Then, near the door where a mirror
sits are my makeup and toiletry items.

“Where’s all your stuff?” he asks.

“This is it,” I reply.

“No photos of your family…your friends?”

“I guess not.”

“It looks to me like you’re not planning to
stay,” he says.

I consider this thought and realize it does
appear that way. But that’s most definitely not the case.

I sigh, “I don’t know what I’m planning
anymore.”
 

I kick my shoes off and make my way over to my
tiny twin mattress. I grab the blanket and cover my legs because this dress was
most definitely not made for sitting.

Liam finishes his perusal of my room and comes
over and sits down beside me.

“What was with that comment downstairs?” he
asks.

“What comment?”

“When you said you aren’t worth it.”

He looks genuinely concerned and I feel
terrible about myself for even bringing it up.

“You don’t want to know all the crap in my
life,” I reply.

He reaches over and rubs my hand, playing with
my fingers.

“If it involves you, I want to know.”

He looks me in the eye and my eyes start to
well with tears. A feeling creeps over me I’ve never felt before.
Shame.
I feel incredibly shameful right
now. I’m ashamed of the way I’m lying to Liam. I’m ashamed of how he’s looking
at me like I’m something special and I know I’m not. I’m ashamed of this huge
lie I’m living. Just over a month ago, my life was consumed with baby making.
How does someone go from trying to have a baby with the love of their life, to
getting drunk at parties and making out with guys in stairwells?

I pull my hands away from his and look down to
fumble with the purple comforter on my lap. Tears slip from my eyes and fall
down onto the blanket.

Liam clears his throat, “Finley. I’m a fixer.
Remember?”

He grabs my hands and I look back up to him.

“I fancy you, Finley. I fancy you a lot. You’re
outspoken and funny and smart. I can see this incredibly quiet depth in your
eyes that you’re not showing to anyone and I am wracking my brain trying to
figure out why.”

We both look down at our entwined hands.
 

“The fact that you’re knockout gorgeous is like
fuel to an open fire.”

I laugh self-deprecatingly and exhale a large
sigh.
 

“But I get a strong feeling you’re not finished
unpacking.”

I look up at him and his eyes drop fleetingly
to my mouth. Damn it, why can’t I just do this? Why can’t I just dive in with
Liam and forget about Brody, and babies, and life?

“I really want to be done,” I speak, finally.
“Everyone else seems to be all unpacked.” I offer him this tidbit because I
don’t know what else to say right now.

“Does the other person who has supposedly
unpacked know how you feel?” he asks.

I shake my head no.

He leans closely into me, forcing me to look
him straight in the eyes.

“There is no man on the planet that would
willingly unpack you, Finley. If he has, then he’s either an idiot, or he’s
operating under false assumptions.”

He lets out a frustrated growl. “Judging by
your comments downstairs, my guess is, this bloke doesn’t know all the facts
and you are lying to yourself about something big.”

I look at him and wonder if he’s figured out
what we’re even talking about.

With that, he jumps up out of the bed and
stretches.
 

“I’m being way too kind right now. If we stay
here much longer I’ll convince you I’m the only man on the planet that deserves
you.”

I look up at him and smile.

“If there’s a proper bloke out there that’s
captured your heart, he’s a lucky bugger; I think you’re intelligent enough to
know who’s best for you.”

He reaches his hand out to help me to my feet.

“Let’s go back downstairs where there’s booze
and other things to look at besides your gorgeous red lips,” he smiles adorably
at me and kisses my cheek.

I half smile at him.

“I can’t make you any promises, Finley. It
seems like space is what you need right now, but I’m only human.”

I look back at him, slightly perplexed.

“Just because we’re mates doesn’t mean I won’t
flirt.”

I shake my head at him.

“And kiss you,” he adds. “Maybe consider
us…friendly friends.” He tweaks his eyebrows at me and leads me by my hand out
of my bedroom.

Liam and I spend the rest of the night dancing
and flirting shamelessly. It’s fun and feels a lot more carefree and less
intense than the feelings earlier in the night. I appreciate that about him
because my mind is on overload and I can’t handle any more thoughts right now.
He even seems to back off the possessive attitude toward Ethan, and Ethan takes
full advantage of it as he twirls me on the dance floor.

When I walk Liam to the door and step outside
to see him off, I’m surprised when he grabs me and pulls me into the little
patio area.

He presses me up against the ivy-covered side
of the house and whispers into my ear, “Don’t expect me to run off because you
have baggage, Finley. My head wants to be a good friend but my heart has other
ideas.” When he captures my mouth with his lips, instant zingers shoot from my
head all the way down to my feet.

Just when I press into him wanting more, he
breaks the kiss and steps back with an incredibly sexy and naughty smile.

“Dream about me,” he says, and walks away.

I’m left shaking my head at his tease when
Frank comes bounding out of the house.

“Finley!” he shouts.

I compose myself and step out from the patio
area.

“Yes, Frank and Beans?”

“Ah, Fin-Bin. My pet. We’re having a roommate
dance off on the coffee table. Join us you sexy leggy brunette, you!”

He grabs my hand and hauls me inside and I
laugh at his exuberance.

***

Waking up the next day, I stir restlessly in
bed thinking about Liam and Brody. What a mess I’ve put myself smack dab in the
middle of. Here is Liam, right in front of me, all sexy, British, and perfect,
but I can’t stop aching for Brody and the comfort of a man who gets me so
perfectly. I’ve decided to close the door on the idea of Brody and me together
because I can’t give him everything he deserves, so why am I struggling to dive
in with Liam?

Regardless, I really need to stop moping around
about boys and start being productive again. I have a stack of press releases
Val is waiting on, and my deadline is fast approaching.

I stretch and check the time, shaking my head
to see it’s already noon. My internal clock is so screwed up here. I used to
consider myself a morning person back in the states, but here I can’t ever seem
to get an early start on the day.

I head into the bathroom to shower. Thankfully,
I’m not feeling too hung over. Once Liam and I went back downstairs last night,
I quit drinking and chose to just dance my ass off. It felt good. It was
probably the most exercise I’ve had since moving out here.

I look at myself in the mirror and am grateful
Leslie helped me take off all my makeup before bed. It was a thick pain in the
ass, but we had fun and laughed through the process anyway. My dress is in a
rumpled heap on the floor and I make a mental note to ask Frank if I can keep
it. I don’t know if I’ll ever wear it again because it’s way too short, but
it’s also too beautiful to just toss aside.

I take a scalding hot shower, chastising myself
as thoughts of Liam and Brody keep creeping in my head. I know I need to do
something about my predicament, but good Lord, can my brain just shut up long
enough for me to take a shower? I dress in my comfy yoga pants and another
college hoodie and head downstairs to get some coffee so I can get a few hours
of work done.

Julie is sitting in the kitchen nook as I come
walking by.

“Damn, we should have cleaned up last night
while we were drunk,” I say, taking in the disaster of cups, sticky liquid,
snacks, and beer cans all over. It looks so much worse in the light of day.

“Frank has a cleaning crew coming in an hour.
Don’t worry about it,” she says with a rasp in her voice. Julie looks hung
over.

“Where does Frank get all his money?” I ask,
surprised I’ve never wondered this before. He’s always buying drinks and food
for the house and never accepts my offers of compensation.

“His parents are loaded. He’s practically a
socialite, except he doesn’t hang out with anybody popular so the
paps
don’t give a toss about him. He says he prefers to
hang with peasants like us,” she lifts her mug to me and takes another sip, her
head resting on her propped hand.

That makes sense why Frank has never told me
what he does for a living. I’ve asked him a couple times now and both times he
always just replies with, “A little of this. A little of that.” One time he
said sexual favors but I knew him well enough by then to know he was joking. I
get the sense Frank doesn’t have all of us as roommates because he needs to.
I’m sure his parents cover all of the expenses of the house. It’s probably even
paid off. So we’re definitely not around for the extra cash. I smile as I think
back to the five tapered red candles he set out last night on the dining room
table for all of us.

“What are you up to today?” I ask Julie once
I’ve made two coffees.

“Work. I feel knackered so I’m positively
dreading it.”

I nod kindly, thankful I’m not a waitress like
Julie. That would be a hard job to do with a hangover. I make my way past her
and back out into the foyer.

“Hey,” she calls before I hit the steps.

“Nobody ever explained Mitch’s toast to me last
night. I’m gutted because I still don’t get it.”

I laugh back at her and head up the stairs
leaving her to continue pondering.

I stop on the second floor and knock softly on
Leslie’s bedroom door.

“Come in!” she replies, brightly.

“Hey,” I say, walking in and curling up on her
antique-style daybed. She’s at her large black desk that has two huge computer
screens on top. She appears to be working on some type of design. Whatever she
has up on the screen, I can’t make any sense of.

“What are you working on?” I ask.

“A freaking strap. It’s a strap and I can’t get
it how I want it. Hey! Is that for me?” she asks, eyeing my second cup of
coffee.

I nod and smile, reaching over to hand it to
her.

“Finny, you know me so well,” she says, looking
down and seeing her extremely light coffee. Leslie basically drinks milk with a
splash of coffee. I don’t understand why she even bothers. I’ve always
preferred mine black because that’s how my dad drank his and I figured if he
could do it, so could I.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

“Pretty good. Not hung over at all. I’m glad we
quit drinking early last night.”

“Me too,” she says, taking a sip.

“So, whatever happened with Theo?”

“What do you mean, ‘what happened with Theo?’”

“Did you do anything with him?” I ask, blowing
on my steamy cup of coffee.

“No! God! I can’t even believe I had to be in
the same room as him all night last night!” she replies, adjusting her denim
vest that she fashionably paired with a humongous pair of sweatpants and a
white t-shirt.

“Did he try to talk to you again?”

“Yes, but I told him to get lost. One time, he
was waiting for me when I came out of the bathroom!”

“What’d he say?”

“He got all up in my face and said I had some
nerve for leaving him stranded on the dance floor after what we shared. God!
I’m turning red just thinking about it!”

I laugh as her cheeks turn crimson, matching
her auburn hair.

“He said he searched for me for hours!” she
starts giggling.

“You’re terrible! Why are you laughing at the
poor guy?”

“Because I saw him coming by our table once and
I ducked and pretended to be messing with my shoe until the coast was clear!”
she laughs hard, spinning in her desk chair.

I laugh with her all the while shaking my head
and silently chastising her.

“I don’t know why you’re so embarrassed. You
never get embarrassed. It’s so unlike you.”

She shakes her head like she’s having a thought
but then appears to think better of it and smiles brightly at me again.

“How are you feeling about everything else?”
she asks, eyeing me curiously.

I take a tentative sip of my coffee, mindful
not to drink too much and completely scald my tongue.

“I feel like I need to have a conversation,” I
say, getting really serious.

She nods her head, equally serious, “A conversation.”

“A conversation,” I reply.

“A conversation with…,” she waits for me to
fill in the blank.

“Brody,” I say, exhaling heavily.

“
Woah
,” she replies,
“I’m shocked. After seeing you with Liam last night, I thought Brody might be
fading into the background.”

I nod my head, “Well, we just…we didn’t end
things well the last time we spoke and I don’t know. I guess I think I need
better closure than that.” I cringe on that word. Closure. I hate that word. It
sounds like a word that belongs in a self-help book, but I’ll be damned if that
isn’t what I need right now.

“Ick. Closure. Sounds terrible,” Leslie
replies.

“Thanks for the encouragement,
Lez
,” I say back, flatly.

She takes a drink from her mug, “Are you sure
your closure doesn’t have more to do with
Ol
’ Saggy
Tits
Oli
’ than it does Brody?”

“Fair question,” I reply. “I’d be lying if I
said I wasn’t curious how the hell those two found each other and what goes
through his mind when he’s with her. But overall, the real reason is to hear his
voice again. I need to hear it without all that hate and anger.”

Leslie gets up from her desk chair and crawls
onto the daybed and sits with her legs crossed facing me.

“You need to tell him everything then, Finley,”
she says, seriously.

I shake my head, “No way. Absolutely not. I
can’t. I won’t.”

“Then what are you going to say to him that’s
any different from the last time you spoke to him?” she asks.

“I don’t know. I guess I thought maybe I’d at
least tell him where I’m living, what I’m doing. Maybe that will help him not
be so angry with me anymore. It’s a little piece of his puzzle that probably
feels really incomplete. If he knows I’m here and I’m okay, then maybe we can
both move on and I can quit caring about who he’s sleeping with…ugh, nope. I’m
lying. I will always being grossed out by the idea of him with Olivia. It will
bother me forever.”

Leslie’s face screws up in disgust, “Yeah,
she’s a nasty granny.”

I smile at her, fondly.

“I have to talk to him. I have to hear his
voice.”

“Well, good luck to you,” she clinks her coffee
mug with mine.

“I can hear your voices in there.” Frank’s
voice muffles from the other side of Leslie’s door.

“What the hell are you doing, Frank?” Leslie
replies.

“I can hear your voices and it sounds like
you’re having a cuddle.”

Leslie and I look at each other, biting our
lips, desperately trying to contain our giggles.

“Why are you sitting outside my door
eavesdropping like a creeper?” Leslie asks with a disgusted but happy look on
her face.

Silence.

“Get in here Carrot Top!” I shout. Leslie
bursts into laughter and Frank swings the door wide open.

“Carrot Top?” he replies, his jaw dropped. “Oh
God, I think that’s the worst thing you’ve ever said to me, Finley!”

“Get on this bed right now, Frank!” Leslie
demands.

Frank hangs his head and makes his way over to
the bed and squeezes tightly in between us.

“Seriously guys…do I look like Carrot Top?”

Leslie and I giggle and hug him affectionately.