Her Heavy Cross

Chapter Twenty-Five

We stood embracing for a while before we pulled away, smiling stupid grins at each other.

"I haven't had a girl dry hump me since I was 17," Liam said. He was laughing as he put himself away and did his pants up. I felt my cheeks heat. I wanted to hit him. "No, no, no. It was good," he protested. He kissed my nose. "The next part was even better." I blushed harder.

I felt awkward now that my passion was sated. I wanted to hide, but Liam moved around seemingly without any of the embarrassment I felt. Seeing his confidence seemed to help mine. He didn't look at me like I was doing something wrong or illicit; he looked at me with desire and awe. He didn't feel like what we did was wrong because it wasn't. It was all in my head. It was the story I had told myself, so I would suppress my desires after Andy had died. So I wouldn't move on, so I would stay in that depression, grieving him forever, punishing myself for not being in the car too for not dying with them.

"Lana," Liam's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "Are you ok? I think I lost you there."

"I'm ok." I lied. I could tell by how he tilted his head and looked at me that he knew that wasn't true.

"Did you not like it? Did I hurt you?"

I shook my head. "It's not you." I plastered a smile on my face. "I'm fine."

"I've known enough women to know that "I'm fine" means "you fucked up."

I rolled my eyes and put my arms around his neck. "I'll be right."

Liam looked confused. "You'll be right what?"

"Don't you Pommies speak English? I'll be right. I will be alright. It's ok. I'll be fine."

Liam grinned, "I speak English perfectly. You speak some crazy alien imitation of English."

"Yeah, righto, mate," I said playfully. I kissed Liam quickly, still smiling, but it was genuine now.

"I've heard that one before."

"Good on ya." I was having fun with it.

Liam half sighed, and half laughed. He tried to ignore my game and asked, "Are you hungry? Should we get ready for dinner?"

"Well, I'm not here fuck spiders."

He threw his hands up, exasperated. But he was laughing as he said. "What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"It's a sarcastic reply to an obvious question. Yes, I'm hungry. Feed me, Seymour."

Liam went into his dressing room to get changed. I sat on his bed, waiting for him, keeping my eyes averted. He dressed quickly and came out in a pair of black pants and a salmon coloured knitted jumper. He took my breath away. He was so gorgeous. He sat on his chair in the corner of the room and put on his shoes and socks.

I was nervous about being in public with Liam. I didn't want any more photos showing up online adding fuel to the fire. I figured if nothing came out, then the story would go away until I was ready.

I told Liam how I felt, and he said, "That's why we are going to Blue Salt. The more expensive and exclusive a place is, the less likely you are to have photos appear, unless it's a nightclub, the paps stake those places out. I guess it's about the type of people." He shrugged as he finished with his shoes.

My Australian egalitarian values bristled at this. I liked fancy restaurants, clothes, cars, houses and jewellery as much as any woman around the world, but I hated snobbery. There was some classism in Australia, but I no more respected a surgeon than I would respect a labourer. It was about who they were as people, and it's what actions they took in the world that was important, not their education.