The Revenge Games Duet

The bubble appears on the screen, longer than it should have. I find myself tapping my knee impatiently. This is the most annoying thing ever.

Wesley: Don’t start. I’m alone and nothing can come of this. Excuse the pun.

Wesley: And while you’re sitting there with a confused look on your face trying to understand what I just said, your ass is a turn on.

I’ll see you next Friday.

I throw my cell on top of my bag, letting out a huff which wakes the girls up. They both comment on how fantastic it was to nap without children, and how refreshed they are after only thirty minutes.

“Oh, Milana, you look red,” Emerson scowls, touching my face with her fingertip.

I want to tell her that her ex-fiancé knows how to push buttons when he wants, and perhaps the red face is from anger, not heatstroke.

“I should probably go, my skin is so Alaskan that I worry I’ll prune into a ball of sunburn.”

“You can borrow my hat?”

I laugh. “I’ll pass. I may not be the next fashionista, but that hat is awful.”

We all giggle, and with quick goodbyes, I make my way home.

Back at home, it doesn’t take long for Joe, our resident drunk, to comment on my appearance or even Mrs. Jones from apartment 2B. She has a remedy for sunburn because her ex-husband is as pale as you could get. I politely tell her that I may drop by later, slowly walking up the narrow stairwell toward our apartment. Even my bag on my shoulder begins to hurt.

As I turn the corner around the banister, I stand back in shock, staring at a body slumped against my door. The lighting is poor in the dark corridor, and the closer I move, his face begins to take shape.

I take a deep breath with fear and comfort.

“You’re here.”

I’m sure how to react. We were just on the phone, and he was there, and I was here.

“Hello,” I croak.

He stands up, practically throwing himself at me and lifting me in his arms. Taking a step back, he’s quick to tell me he misses me, placing his lips onto mine. My mouth forces open, welcoming his familiar taste as he presses against me, hard and full of passion.

Pulling back, slightly, I look deeply into his eyes.

“I miss you, too…” I smile, a little forced. “Liam.”

Chapter Thirteen

“Can we go in?”

I’m stuck in a daze, staring at him in complete shock. Though we just kissed, I’m without words, examining his profile and trying to allow this all to sink in.

Liam is here.

In Los Angeles.

A place he despises without even having visited.

He hasn’t changed much since I saw him over a month ago. His hair has grown slightly longer with drabby ends, yet still tied back away from his face. Most of the time he’s dressed in overalls, so the white tee and jeans are new. I recall our conversation at the beach earlier, chuckling to myself at the sight of him dressed this way.

“Sorry, how rude of me.”

“Milly, wait…” The palm of his hand grazes against my cheek, his lips meeting mine again, lingering with a soft suck of my bottom lip. Tearing away slowly, the angst builds up inside, my breathing hitches.

“C’mon, let me show you around mi casa.”