Here Comes the Sun | ✓

Chapter Twenty-Eight - Libby

This is the part where I pray to God that my family doesn't read my works. At least not this chapter. Please pray for me, readers, that I don't have my computer taken away from me after I post this chapter.
And yes, this would be good news for you sappy readers who love a little love.
Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-Eight - Libby

"Feeling better?"

It's the morning after the party, and the taste of morning breath greets me. It's not entirely unpleasant, but there have been better scents in my past. "Yep," I reply after trying to coherently process the question in my head.

My stomach isn't churning.

My head isn't pounding.

My body is not shaking.

I'm fine and dandy.

Which means...

But Liam's already one step ahead of me, his lips on mine in an instant. The kiss is soft and pleasant, but after an entire day of being at least two yards away from him, I needed more. I deepen the kiss and a soft moan comes from the back of his throat, causing a small tremor to course through my spine at the realization that I had made him react like that; that I had that effect on him.

Good to know.

His hands cup the side of my face, resting pleasantly on my jaw lines, while my hands are somewhere I don't even know on his body. It could be his chest or his back or his hair I'm not even sure at the moment. All I know is that I'm enjoying this probably way more than he is.

When it's clear that we need to take a breath, we part and rest our foreheads against one anothers, not wanting to be any further away from each other. I watch as his blue eyes appear as he opens them, admiring them as they sparkle with warmth and need. "Happy late birthday," I whisper, and he laughs softly at the comment.

Leaning forward for one more kiss, he says, "Thank you," before meeting my lips with his. It seems to take all my strength to pull myself away from him when I realize that Jere or Jimmy can walk in at any minute. "Random question," I start, and he looks at me with a pout.

"What." He's obviously not happy about our change of direction this morning. Little does he know...

"Do you happen to have a lock on your door?" His eyes widen when he understands my need to ask and immediately answers with a breathless "yeah." I can feel my face burn with anxiety and embarrassment when I murmur, "That might come in handy one day."

He looks at me for a moment, studying me to see if what I'm saying is legitimate. And then a small, crooked smile takes form on his lips when he says, "Look at you being all confident."

"Do you not want to?" I ask, suddenly very unsure and ashamed for thinking otherwise. I should've just kept my mouth shut....

"Yes! Oh, God, of course I do Lib," he hurries to interject, laughing breathlessly at the end as if finding it hilarious that I lost faith in his lust for a moment. I should be feeling a bit better - more reassured - but in this moment all I want to do is run and hide. This kind of intimacy... scares the nincompoop out of me.

When he asks me what's wrong, I tell him exactly that.

He stifles a laugh when he says, "'Nincompoop?'"

I push him in the shoulder, although slightly pleased that the mood has been lifted. "What about it?" I ask innocently.

"What the hell is that?" he laughs, trying to avoid my next oncoming push by grasping my weak fist into his hand and intertwining our fingers. What a schmo.