Falling Slowly

Chapter Eighteen: Every Night Is Another Night

“I feel as if I have lost myself in light of everything. My momentarily lapse of judgment…and I just don’t know what to do. I know they love me, Father, I know it…but why…why would my real parents give me up? Was it because of me? Was it because I was sick and they couldn’t take care of me?” I wiped the tears that cascaded down my cheeks with the back of my hand; the pounding in head receding to a low hum.

“I just ask that you help me, Father. Give me strength to keep moving forward, to keep on living for as long as it is written in your hand. Thank you…thank you,” I smiled looking up at the ceiling, “for always being there for me, for listening to me when I need someone to talk to or even listening to the silent unspoken prayers of my heart. Thank you, Father.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

I breathed out a heavy sigh of relief; feeling like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Standing up, I arched my back and stretched like a Cheshire cat. My eyes roamed Liam’s room until I found my clothes next to his desk covered in dirt. I found my black leather boots, one of its heels deterred, broken.

I sighed, “Gemma is going to kill me. She bought them on sale just last week. I wonder if I can fix them with super glue…”

The sound of Liam clearing his throat put a stop to my mumblings. I turned my head and the sight of him made my breath caught in my throat. A towel was wrapped around his neck, soaking up the excessive water dripping from his hair. His face was unshaven, darkening the strong line of his jaw and upper lip. He looked rugged, undeniably sexy. Rivulets of water snaked down his chest to the vee of his…oh, goodness. I looked away.

“You know,” he said. I could practically see the smirk sliding unto his lips. “If you wanted to see me naked, you could have just asked.”

“Don’t you ever get cold?” I asked exasperated, hoping that he didn’t see the heat rise to my cheeks. “It’s a bit drafty in here. You should definitely put a shirt on.”

He chuckled. “That’s not what you said last night.”

I whirled around and gaped at him. “We didn’t- we didn’t do anything…?” My voice broke into a squeak as I saw him smiling and then wink at me.

“Most girls,” he said taking a seat on the edge of his bed. He slid the towel off his neck and ran it through his hair casually with a grin playing on his lips. “Well, most girls come on to me when their drunk…you-” I held my breath. “You wanted me to orchestrate a funeral for your shoe and protect you from the boogey man.”

I exhaled the air out of my lungs like a deflated hot air balloon. “And that’s all that happened?”

He quirked an eyebrow, apprehension flashing in his eyes. Slowly he asked, “What do you remember?”

I eyed him suspiciously and shrugged. “Not much. It’s all so…disconcerting. My head hurts trying to remember.” Which it did. My head was beginning to pound just trying to recall last night’s chain of events.

Pushing himself up from bed, he sauntered towards the closet and drew on a black v-neck t-shirt that hugged his body nicely. It looked like he was about to bust out of his shirt like the Incredible Hulk when he got angry or transformed. Except, Liam wasn’t angry or (to my knowledge) the Incredible Hulk…his biceps were just bulging when he flexed and…

Oh, goodness. I had to stop thinking of him in that way. Snap out of it, Anya! It’s not like you haven’t seen him half naked before. It shouldn’t be a seventh wonder of the world.

Liam’s eyes focused on something behind me and I followed his gaze to the alarm clock and read that it 8: 24. Was it really that early? And on a Saturday for that matter! It should be illegal to be up this early.