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I swallowed hard, my throat tight and dry. I could still back out if I wanted, but last night really rattled me and I needed to know if I was losing it.
I dropped my voice as low as I could, down to the smallest whisper, leaning in so close I could smell the mint on her breath. “Is it normal—or at least not super fucked up—to cry during sex? Like, not all the time, but if it happens once, is that really weird?”
Bree’s face remained neutral, not giving anything away. Then she nodded her head, just once. “It’s not abnormal, I’d say. You have to remember...” She dropped her voice lower, “sex is fundamentally a release. Of physical tension, but also emotional tension. Sometimes when that release happens, things shift in our psyches and walls break down. Or the experience is so cathartic that we have an actual emotional release. It’s not that uncommon.”
A tiny sigh of relief escaped my lips. “Good to know. Thanks.”
“No problem,” she said, smiling at me. “And don’t worry—I won’t mention this conversation to anyone, even if you’re not technically my client. We’ll call it girl talk and leave it at that.” She winked and my chest opened up, allowing my breathing to return to normal.
“Any other questions? While we’re chatting?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks.” I stood, effectively ending the conversation. “Thanks again.”
“You bet. Have a great day, Macy.” She gathered her bag and to-go cups of coffee, and I shot her a quick wave.
Well, at least I knew I wasn’t totally losing my grip. So what if I’d cried in front of Liam? I’d bet it wasn’t the first time someone cried on him. He was really great in bed; I’m sure he brought women to tears all the time.
Eww. I didn’t want to think about Liam with other women, to be honest.
But how would this work between us? We still had all the same issues as before, and now things were even more complicated. Was Liam realistically going to stay in Peachtree Grove when he was some hot-shot app developer wanted by all these companies? I highly doubted it. And I’d never even considered leaving Peachtree Grove after I didn’t go to college. Everly needed me. We’d only had each other for so long, it was crazy talk to even contemplate going to L.A. Besides, what the hell would I do? Waitress in L.A.? I could barely support myself here, let alone make it in a big city like that.
My heart sunk as my mind flew over the thousand and one reasons Liam and I would never work out. I should have listened to my gut and not gotten involved in the first place. But he was so damn cute. Funny. Kind. Persistent.
And now I was in deep—way too freaking deep—to get out.
Worse, I didn’t even want out. I wanted to be with Liam.Maybe forever.
FML.
* * *
I only workedthe early shift at the diner, so I had time to head home and regroup before going to my second job. Dragging myself up the stairs, I rounded the corner to my apartment and froze, a warm tingle running all the way down my arms.
In front of my door stood the largest, most gorgeous bouquet of flowers I’d ever seen. Not just your typical dozen red roses. No. There were easily three dozen roses in there—white, pink, and yellow—plus cheery daisies, saucer-sized sunflowers, deep purple irises, random pastel wildflowers, tall lily-of-the valley. The arrangement was beyond stunning and dammit if hot tears didn’t spring to my eyes. No guy had ever sent me flowers before, let alone an arrangement as stunning as this.
Get a grip, Macy.
My hands shaking, I reached down and pulled out the card. Tearing the envelope open, I read the card.
Macy—
Hope you’re having a great day. These flowers aren’t nearly enough to show how I feel about you and pale in comparison to your beauty, both inside and out. I’m so glad I met you when I did and can’t wait to see you again.
Love,
Liam
I read and re-read the card, my breath hitching in my throat.
Love.
That was definitely the word he’d used; I hadn’t misread it. Even after my emotional breakdown (and subsequent blue-balling), the guy still felt compelled to send me the most lavish flowers I’d ever seen and signed the card with the L-word.
Unlocking the apartment, I hoisted up the massive vase and carried it to the kitchen table. I wasn’t sure how to react. On the one hand, I really, really liked Liam and was definitely falling for him. But where were we going? I had no idea, and that thought scared the shit out of me.
Even worse now that Liam had outwardly declared his affection.
Coupled with my new knowledge of his billionaire status, I was torn between tapping out a giddy text to Everly and racing to the toilet to throw up from nerves. What started as a crazy one-night fling had taken a hard turn towards serious and I historically didn’t do serious. Serious never, ever worked, at least not in this family; my mother ran off with a cover band singer, for crying out loud. And that was try number three. So what would make me any different?
