Crack In The Ice

Chapter Thirty-One [Eli]

Liam's lips taste the same as they always have.

They feel the same against mine as I remember. I can feel his hand at the back of my neck where it's been countless times before, and despite the cold flash of fear that swept over me when he turned to go, I think this has to be a good sign.

When we part, I see a fire burn in the deep blue of his eyes that makes my stomach clench. Over Liam's shoulder, like a sobering bucket of freezing cold water, I catch a glance of Owen's arched eyebrow. I can't process that beyond merely registering the observation, though.

The awareness that Liam and I are not the only ones in the room, and are in fact surrounded by people, struggles to reach the front of my mind. I think I hear flashes and a buzz of voices, but it reaches me like slightly toned down background noise.

I feel the strong hand that wraps around my arm and forcefully steers me through the crowd toward an exit. It's all I can do to grab Liam's hand and pull him with me. He doesn't resist.

We are hauled into a side hallway of the arena. The hand around my arm disappears and then my coach is in my line of vision saying a lot of words. He opens a door to usher us through it.

"They're getting a car ready and you're both getting in it," his voice finally forms clear words in my head.

I squeeze Liam's hand and feel him squeeze back just as we're both put into a car.

I think we drive around for too long. Maybe intentionally. But then we're at an underground parking lot of the hotel we're staying in and we enter an elevator that takes us straight to my floor. Liam follows me into my room.

When I close the door, it all catches up to me.

I feel a little lightheaded so I lean against the wall. Closing my eyes, I try to breathe deeply, in through the nose and out through the mouth. I repeat it a few times until I don't feel like the floor is tilting underneath my feet.

When I open my eyes again, Liam is standing there. The room comes into focus.

"Right. So." He sounds cautious. It brings me back to a night years ago, when I dragged my sorry, not-nearly-drunk-enough ass to his room in a cry for help. He was cautious then too. Choosing his words carefully.

I'm not sure how I feel about seeing that look in his eyes once again.

He lets out a breathy laugh, one hand going up to take a fistful of his short hair. "I have no clue what the fuck just happened, so I need you to talk to me," he says. "Tell me what you need."

I pull away from the wall and kiss him.

Liam lets me. He kisses me back, without trying to take control. His hands come to my sides and something kindles inside me. He trails his hands up over my shirt to my shoulder plates, then in through the shoulders to slide my jacket off. I let it fall to the floor before walking him backward against another wall. My fist fills with the thick cotton of his sweater.

A sound rumbles in his throat. One of his hands tightens around my hip while the other cups around my neck, taking control. I feel it all dissolve. The tension around my neck and shoulders. At the pit of my stomach. Deep in my chest. Liam's taking over now, and that always works for me.

That heat inside me swells and a breathless sound escapes my mouth as his teeth graze my jaw.

"Shit. This is really not what I had planned."

Liam stops. His hands stay on me, but his mouth is not. I feel cold where it left me.

"What did you have planned?" He asks, with swollen lips and unsteady breath.