Page 6
LIA M
Liam didn’t feel married – not that he knew what being married felt like.
He was certain that was the most unemotional marriage that had ever occurred two hours ago.
It had been quiet; there had been a lot of stuttering, clearing throats, and hesitation as they each repeated their vows to each other, and when it came time to kiss the bride, there was no accounting for the flare of warmth within his chest at the idea of kissing Ashley – or how it felt.
He'd kissed plenty of girls in his life. High school, college, after games, at a few drunken parties ( which he didn’t participate in anymore because he didn’t drink – he was the designated driver ), and knew that each kiss was different, each person was different, but this left a mark that couldn’t be ignored.
He expected the kiss to be nice, to feel good, but what he didn’t anticipate was how much it would affect him.
That soft intake of breath, the scent of her perfume, the way she felt perfect in his arms even though he thought to make it a simple ‘peck’ to seal the deal.
There was a spark between them, a feeling of recognition from somewhere deep i nside that flickered an awareness within him that he hadn’t known existed.
Even when Ashley backed away, she looked as stunned as he felt.
And then that cool mask slid into place on her face, reminding him of how she spoke with the other guests on the plane.
She was hiding how she felt from the world – and him.
They had caught another Uber to the nearest dealership and spent an uncomfortable few minutes reassuring her to pick something she liked, would last, and ignore the window sticker.
It was nice to see that she wasn’t wholly comfortable with using him for money – not like Nadine.
No, she had delved into his bank account without hesitation or asking permission, which is what bothered him so much.
If she had asked, he would have found out about what she had done regarding the wedding dress, the bank, Ricky, and ended their relationship much earlier without wallowing in guilt for being a ‘bad boyfriend.’
Now, they were in the new truck he’d bought her, the marriage license burning a hole in his shirt pocket, safely hidden underneath the sweater he’d yanked over his head.
He didn’t have any gear yet from the Wolverines, and it didn’t feel right wearing another team’s logo – nor did he want to get recognized.
This sweet anonymity was a blessing right now, and he completely understood her request at the airport to act like they didn’t know each other.
She had coworkers and friends, and had been dressed in a uniform – which meant anyone could stop her at any time.
When he was in his uniform, he felt an obligation to put on the ‘face’…
smiling, energetic, outgoing, with zero personal space because that came with the job, or so he felt.
When he was in his gear, Liam held the babies.
He took selfies with the children, took photos with families, signed so man y autographs, and not once did he step back from what it meant to be a public figure.
But today, at this moment, he was just a man sitting beside a woman who fascinated him, and they were married on paper.
They were headed to her home.
This was no longer ‘Ricky’s deal’ he’d negotiated. He wasn’t taking the condo that his agent had arranged and had already canceled. He was serious about speaking with the attorneys if either Ricky or Nadine made a move to dabbling in his life once again.
He was done. –Out–distanced.
New life, new wife.
Turning, Liam looked at Ashley once again, needing to fill the silence with something, anything. She was classy, graceful, and a steady presence – which he desperately needed right now to keep his own panic at bay.
“We’re going to be okay,” Liam offered and saw Ashley’s sharp glance just before she turned on what looked like an empty road.
“I’m going to need directions and probably should have bought myself a vehicle, but I feel like today is about tackling a few necessities…
the most urgent things pressing on either of us. ”
“I’m not sleeping with you,” Ashley volunteered hoarsely, not commenting on anything he was mentioning – but it was an opening into a conversation, and he’d take it.
“I’m not asking you to,” he replied quietly, watching her. “I would rather have your friendship than a few minutes of physical intimacy.”
“Well, that’s one way of putting things.”
“Okay, how would you have said it?”
“Sleeping together, making love, screwing, or…”
“I get it,” he interrupted, stunned. “I guess maybe I’m old fashio ned because I feel like the marriage act is something personal and intimate between a couple.”
“The marriage act, huh?”
“Yes,” he replied, watching her and wishing he could know what she was thinking right now. He never pictured her as ‘easy,’ but her reaction was a surprise. “My parents have been married since they were eighteen and…”
“Nice,” she interrupted, glancing at him again. “My parents got married, divorced, and then my mother passed away. My dad hasn’t reached out in years, and I’m ashamed to admit the same.”
There was a note of something in her voice that spoke to him – and he took it as a branch extended between friends. “Maybe when things settle down in a few months, we could reach out together?”
“In ninety days, we are re-evaluating our temporary relationship,” she reminded him quietly, turning onto a long driveway.
“Of course,” he murmured, feeling slightly bothered at the reminder once again.
Maybe she didn’t find him as attractive as he thought she was and hesitated.
This was certainly a new feeling for him because he’d always been the center of attention, or so it felt.
“I’m just trying to talk about things because the silence is a lot to handle, and I’m on edge.
Sometimes talking through stuff makes me feel better… ”
“I’m freaking out,” she whispered, pulling up to what looked like a rustic cabin that seemed to appear out of nowhere.
Her soft words drew his attention like no other, making him realize that she was just as on edge as he was and about to flip her lid.
“This. You. Me— and now we’re about to go into my home.
I don’t know if you are some freak, some rapist, or anything about you, and I cannot believe we’re married. I must be stupid or…”
“Ashley,” he said firmly, his voice quiet. “Look at me.”
Her head turned slowly, and something painful took hold in his chest at her panicked, watery eyes. They sat there, looking at each other, the truck running, and he silently moved forward to turn off the engine, and she jumped.
“We are not leaving this truck with you scared of me,” he breathed softly.
“I want you to google my name, take your time, and look around online. See who I am, see that I’m telling you the truth, and ask me anything you want to know.
You’ve barely touched on asking me personal questions, the real personal questions and nobody is asking you to throw yourself onto some pyre.
I’m a guy, grateful for your help in a matter that completely threw my life in a tailspin, and if it’s doing the same to you – that doesn’t sit well with me,” he whispered gently, his eyes searching hers as she sat there like a statue.
“Talk to me. Help me understand what is going on in your head.”
He saw her swallow, tug at her collar, as she sat there deathly silent – so without a word, he got comfortable.
He unbuckled his seatbelt, adjusted slightly, and laid his phone between them – face up.
The screen was a picture of him on the ice that had been used as a magazine photo that he thought was cool.
Her eyes looked away, darting down to the phone, and he saw her jolt once more.
“Hockey?” she whispered, tossing it out there.
“Yup,” he replied just as quietly. “I started playing when I was seven and fell in love with the fact that my buddy busted his butt on the ice right away, but I seemed to know how to skate effortlessly. To me, ice skating felt like roller skating, but so much easier. ”
“It’s easier?”
“To me – yes,” he admitted. “I’ve always loved it.
and hockey was a natural progression. I was awful at other sports, but hockey felt like an extension of my hand, my body.
It has given me so many wonderful friendships, so many challenges, and kept me focused.
I hope this new team turns out to be a good fit. ”
“What made you change?”
“They asked for me,” he admitted openly, realizing it was true. “I guess it made me feel good to be wanted – and maybe that is telling. I felt like my agent had always ‘found’ me a spot… but they asked for me, kept calling, and really pressed hard – so I accepted.”
“It was an ego trip.”
“Very much so,” he confessed, chuckling as he slid a look to her. “I’m not one of those guys with an inflated ego, so it was flattering… and I made the jump.”
“I hope you don’t regret it,” she said quietly. “It sounds like it’s been a lot of changes for you in a brief time.”
“It has been, but I’m optimistic. The whole ‘when one door closes, another opens’ mantra.”
“I get that… and I’m the same, but maybe a little more wary,” she offered quietly.
“There’s nothing wrong with that. I prefer to think of it as ‘self-preservation,’ and that’s smart, Ashley.”
“Then why would I do something as stupid as marrying a perfect stranger?”
“Because maybe there is something in you that trusts something in me,” he offered gently, watching her. “And maybe that is what you are so afraid of?”
They sat there quietly, not moving.
“Two beds,” he asked, almost as if he was reminding her that he was paying attention and respecting her expect ations. She snorted, a mixture of disbelief and self-disgust.
“Oh yeah. Two beds for sure.”
“Sounds fine with me.”
“It would have to be.”
“I’m not expecting anything.”