White Street

Chloe

I'm a bit nervous to go back into my room. I can't believe I've left Liam in there. Liam McCall is in my flat. What the actual fuck?

We're about to be properly alone.

When I push my bedroom door open, he's standing at my bookcase examining the spines of my book collection. I wince as I remember him slagging off my taste in novels.

He turns around and smiles at me. "You really do like romance, don't you?" There's no challenge in his tone this time though. Was I perhaps imagining it that last time?

"It's good escapism," I reply. "I don't want to read something depressing, it seems too much like real life. Give me a feel-good story and a happy ending any time."

Oh god... "Happy ending" can mean something dodgy too can't it? I cringe inside my own head. I'm glad I can't immediately remember what it means. However I know I'll be googling it later so I can beat myself up about it.

Thankfully he doesn't take that comment as bait. Maybe he's more innocent than I am. But I doubt that somehow.

I distract myself by digging in my wardrobe for a pair of ballet pumps. There's some sparkly pink Primark ones with the tags still on. I immediately regretted buying them, they were a bit bright for me. Primark regret is real. Becky can keep them.

I throw them into my bag and then check in on Liam again. He's now running a finger along my DVD collection and, ruefully, he pulls one out and presents the cover in my direction.

Ferris Bueller's Day Off.

I smirk, and he sighs.

"I'm sorry if I ruined this for you," he says. "I'd not long read an article about the film with the whole Ferris-being-a-sociopath theory and it had . . . Opened my eyes. And it was so fresh in my head the first time I met you. In some misguided way, I think I was trying to impress you with my intellect." He winces.

"It's fine. I'll get over it eventually," I say. I realise I already have.

"Maybe we could watch it together sometime?" he suggests tentatively. "It might be . . . therapeutic."

I laugh as he slides the DVD back onto the shelf. "I'd like that."

Liam's eyes are dangerously dark as he turns back to face me. The atmosphere in the room has thickened considerably, although we're still standing at opposite ends of the room. I feel a bit dizzy, overwhelmed by the way he is looking at me.

"I don't know what to do next," I confess finally. My voice sounds really small.

He walks towards me. It seems to take an age. "I know what I want to do," he says softly, as he finally reaches me. I study his face, wondering how I ever considered him to be too much for me, too messy. He's handsome and grinning and he's absolutely adorable. And he's . . . Yep, he's bending to kiss me.

Thank goodness.

His mouth presses against mine and this time I melt immediately into the kiss, without an audience or someone timing us. He tastes sweet, like the JD and Cokes he's been drinking. His lips are soft and warm and I feel myself sigh as his hands slip up my body, and then he caresses my neck, tugging me closer.

The kiss deepens. I used to worry that I was bad at kissing. I'm not wondering about that with Liam. Because it's as good as I remember. It's like we're meant to be kissing each other.

We're next to the bed so the next logical step, of course, is to sink down onto it together. "We'll have to go back in a few minutes," he whispers, lightly tracing my face with one hand before he lowers his lips onto me again. "I wish we could stay here longer," he adds, between kisses.

"Me too," I admit, catching his lower lip between my teeth and hearing him groan. He pushes me back onto the bed and braces himself above me, his kisses hot and feverish now. I'm trying not to moan in excitement but, honestly, I feel like I could just rip his clothes off right now.

But I won't.

Before we can reach what would likely be a point of no return, he rolls off me and sits up, dragging a hand down his face, clearly trying to recover himself. "I really like you, Chloe," he says quietly, eventually. "Do you think we could . . . Spend a bit more time together? See where this goes?"

I nod. "I want to try." I agree. All my nerve endings are on fire from our kisses. I'm still not sure what we actually have in common - or if that even matters - but the connection, the chemistry, is just too amazing to ignore.

He smiles again. Yep, there's definitely a dimple in there somewhere. Probably best it's disguised under the scruff, it would make me even weaker - I've always been a sucker for dimples. "I need to warn you though, my life is a bit of a mess right now.  If this does go somewhere, I can't promise it's going to be easy. I'm also," he bites his lip, hesitating. "I'm not that great at relationships."

"Well, I've only ever been in the one relationship so I'm not sure I am either," I say, although his words do disturb me a bit. Am I just setting myself up to get hurt?

I think he senses this because he tilts my head up gently, forcing me to look him directly in the eyes. "I had an ex a few years ago, Alex's sister Tasha, she did a bit of a number on me. It's just made me a bit wary . . . Trust issues, you know?"

"I get it." I may never have had reason not to trust Michael in our relationship but I've seen it happen enough in all those books I read.

He sighs, his eyes not leaving my face. "I feel like this - us - could be something special though. I know we don't know each other that well, but I want to find out."

His honesty is so refreshing and I can't help but lean in for another kiss. I know exactly what he means.

"That Sandy girl?" I ask, when I pull back. "Is there something there? You spent a lot of time talking to her."

He shakes his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "She asked me for my number as a dare. And every time I talked to her it was about you." He unlocks his phone and shows me the messages she sent him. "I might actually have to block her."

I laugh, relieved, as he pulls me to my feet. "We'd best get going," he says. "Time to meet your ex's new girlfriend, after all."

"Yay," I respond weakly. "That's not going to be awkward at all. And if it's not already awkward, I'll make it weird and uncomfortable somehow. It's my gift." I think back to me scaring Lola in the first pub earlier. It seems like a lifetime ago now.

Liam takes my hand. "I'll be there for moral support," he promises, leaning over and kissing the top of my head reassuringly. Why didn't I realise what a great, sweet guy he was before? He's amazing.

But then, because I'm a chronic-overthinker and my very own worst enemy, I immediately start to wonder if he's actually too good to be true. Surely I'd have seen this in him sooner if he was such a genuine guy?

I immediately rebuke myself for those thoughts. Remind myself I need to give this a chance. That Liam's been nothing but honest with me from what I can see. That I should let myself enjoy whatever this could be.

I want to, I really do. But, because I'm me . . . I'm still just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Is Chloe right to be wary of Liam?

And there's a surprise twist around the corner . . . Any theories on what it might be?

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