Page 21 of The Ending I Want


  Seeing him at ease and here with me makes me happy in a way I can’t explain. There is just something utterly perfect about opening my eyes and seeing Liam beside me.

  And knowing it’s not forever, that my time with him is limited, makes me appreciate it all the more.

  I smile. “Hey.” My voice sounds croaky.

  “How are you feeling?” The deep scratch of his morning voice tickles my skin, making me tingle.

  “Better.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.” I smile again to reassure him.

  Then, my stomach rumbles loudly. Liam chuckles.

  “And, apparently, I’m hungry,” I say.

  “I’ll have breakfast brought up.”

  “No, we’ll go down and eat with your grandpa.”

  “He’ll have eaten by now.”

  “What time is it?” I look around for a clock.

  “Quarter to eleven.”

  “Quarter to eleven!” I exclaim. “I can’t believe how late I slept.”

  “You clearly needed it.” He’s looking at me with concern in his eyes.

  “Yeah, I guess. How long have you been awake?” I ask, turning on my side to face him. I put my hands under my cheek.

  “A while.”

  “How long’s a while?”

  “Since nine.”

  “That’s late for you.” Liam’s an early riser.

  “Guess I needed the sleep, too.” His lips lift into a smile.

  “So, did you go down and have breakfast and then come back to bed?”

  “No. I stayed here with you. I didn’t want to leave in case you needed me.”

  My heart leaps out of my chest and Saran Wraps herself to Liam.

  “You stayed here? For all that time?” My words come out a whisper.

  He lifts the hand from my stomach and brushes my hair off my forehead with his fingers. “It wasn’t that long.”

  “Nearly two hours.”

  “Like I said, not that long. And I did catch up with some work emails on my phone, so it wasn’t like I just lay here and stared at you the whole time.”

  “Just some of the time.” I tease.

  His lips curve up. “Well, you’re pretty to look at.”

  “Right back at ya, handsome.”

  That earns me another smile.

  Liam never looks more beautiful than when he’s smiling. Those smiles are all the more special when he’s doing so because of me.

  In my head, I try to snapshot as many of Liam’s smiles as I can because I want to take them with me when I go.

  “I need to pee,” I tell him.

  “Thanks for sharing.”

  “Sharing is caring.”

  He chuckles, shaking his head at me. “You need a hand to the bathroom?”

  “Thanks, but no, thanks. You seeing me puking last night was bad enough. And, anyway, I feel fine now. I can walk to the bathroom all by myself.” I slip out of bed and head to the bathroom.

  When I come back, Liam is still in the same place I left him.

  I climb back into bed, snuggling into his warmth. His arm comes around me, holding me tight.

  “What are we doing today?” I ask him. I know today is clear, as the Grand Prix is tomorrow.

  “We’re staying in bed.”

  “Does that plan involve having sex? Because I’m all for having sex, lots of it, but it would seem a shame to spend the whole day in bed. We could go out as well and have sex outdoors.” I let a grin out on my face.

  He doesn’t even crack a smile. “I didn’t mean, stay in bed to have sex, Boston. You need to rest.”

  “I’ve had all the rest I need. I’ve slept for almost half a day. I want to go out and do something.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Why?” I frown.

  “Because I don’t want what happened last night to happen again today.”

  “Hunter”—I touch my fingertips to his face, tracing them up over his cheekbone and around the line of his brow—“I’m fine.”

  He’s staring at me, and I can see from the look in his eyes that he doesn’t believe me.

  “I’m fine,” I reiterate, pressing the words home. “You know I get headaches from time to time.”

  “That wasn’t your run-of-the-mill headache, Taylor. That was a full-fledged fucking migraine that made you puke your guts up. Does your doctor know that you still have headaches and that they affect you in this way?”

  No.

  “Yes.” I swallow past the lie. “Where do you think the headache pills come from? She prescribes them.”

  A lie.

  Well, sort of.

  The pills are what were leftover from an old prescription I had when I had the first tumor. I just hope Liam doesn’t check the date on the pill bottle because it dates back years.

  The pills were in the cabinet in the bathroom on the upper floor of my home where my bedroom was. I found them when I was let in the house after the fire department had deemed it safe to go inside.

  The pills managed to survive the fire. My family didn’t, but a bottle of fucking pills and a bunch of other pointless things did.

  Except for the picture of my family that used to sit on the nightstand in my bedroom. That survived, and that wasn’t pointless. It’s all I’ve had of them for the last four years.

  But going in my home, seeing it covered in black and soot and knowing they’d died in there…it was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do.

  Except for burying them. That was horrific, watching their caskets being lowered into the ground…and Tess’s was so small. Knowing they were all in there because of me…it was an unimaginable kind of pain.

  All I wanted to do was climb in with them and have dirt thrown on top of me.

  And, very soon, that wish will come true.

  But not today.

  Because, today, I’m spending with Liam.

  “Tell me about it,” Liam says softly.

  I turn my eyes to him. “Tell you about what?”

  “Being sick…the tumor.”

  I don’t want to tell him too many details because I don’t want to tip him off that I’m back in the same position now. Liam’s smart. One wrong word from me, and he’ll figure out what caused last night’s headache.

  I exhale a breath, lifting my shoulder in a half-shrug. “I got sick. My mom took me to the doctor. The doctor knew something wasn’t right, so a scan was done on my brain. There was a shadow, which turned out to be a tumor. It was malignant. The tumor was operated on, but it couldn’t all be removed with surgery. So, I had to have radiation therapy to get rid of what was left.”

  “And that worked?”

  “Yes. I got the all-clear six months later.”

  “Do you still have regular checkups to make sure everything is okay?”

  “Yes. They were every month at first. But, now, they’re every six months.” And I missed the last appointment I was supposed to attend because I know it’s back.

  “When was the last appointment?”

  He’s starting to piece things together. I need to get his mind off this train of thought. I need to lie as much as necessary, so he doesn’t discover the truth.

  “Two weeks before I got on the plane to come here.” Lie.

  “And the results were fine?”

  “All clear.” I smile. It hurts like a bitch, smiling through that lie.

  But he’s still staring at me, like he’s not sure.

  I need to make him sure.

  So, I put a wall around that pain I feel from lying to him, and I tell him what he needs to hear to stop him from figuring out the truth.

  “Hunter…are you worried that the tumor is back?”

  Being so close to the truth like this…I feel like I’m treading land mines. But it’s the only way to halt this line of questioning. Tackle it head-on, and then lie my way back out.

  He lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug. “It’s just…that headache last night?
??it wasn’t right, Boston. It’s not normal to suffer that much pain.”

  “Maybe not to you. But it is to me. I had a brain tumor, Hunter. A cancerous growth on my brain. I managed to survive it. I’m lucky to be alive. The occasional headache is a small price to pay when it could have been so much worse.”

  I could have died. I should have died back then. If I had, my family would still be alive right now.

  I stare into Liam’s eyes, willing him to believe my lies.

  He blows out a breath. “I guess when you put it like that…you’re right. It’s a small price to pay. But I still don’t like seeing you in pain, babe.”

  He presses his fingertips to my lips. The tenderness of his touch and the care in his eyes…it takes everything in me not to cry.

  I’m sorry, Hunter. I’m so very sorry.

  “Going forward, just let me know when a headache is coming on, so I can help you.”

  “I will,” I say through the thickness in my throat. Then, I force the best smile I can manage.

  Liam replaces his fingers with his lips, softly brushing them over mine. He slides his fingers up into my hair as his tongue touches mine. As he runs his fingers over my scalp, I get the impression that he’s feeling for my scar.

  “Right side, above my ear. Runs the full side and just a little around the back.” I take ahold of his fingers, pressing them to the spot.

  He doesn’t move his hand.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers. Pressing his forehead to mine, he stares into my eyes. “I shouldn’t have felt for it. I just haven’t felt it before when I’ve had my hands in your hair, and I guess I was just…”

  “Curious. It’s fine, Hunter.” I smile.

  And it is fine. I’m just relieved it’s the scar he’s searching for and not the tumor.

  Thank God he can’t feel what’s growing beneath the skin and skull because that’s what I want to hide from him. Not my old scar.

  His fingertips trace the line of the scar. It’s not a thick scar. Surprisingly thin. But it’s long.

  His finger follows it around to the back of my head. Cupping the back of my head with his hand, his other hand against my cheek, he tilts my head back, so I’m staring into his eyes.

  “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever known, Boston,” he whispers. “I feel in awe…and so fucking lucky to know you.”

  I’m not brave, Liam. I’m weak and a coward. You’re the brave one. You’re amazing and kind and generous. You are all the things I wish I could have been.

  I want to say all those things to him. But I can’t.

  So, I close my eyes and bring my mouth to his, kissing him, trying to tell him with this kiss what I can’t say in words.

  The kiss has just started to deepen when my stomach rumbles again, spoiling the moment.

  Liam chuckles into my mouth. “Guess that’s our cue to get up and get some food.”

  I release a sigh. “I guess so.”

  Liam kisses me once last time and then gets out of bed.

  I climb out of bed. “Should I get dressed for breakfast?” I ask him, staring down at my pajamas.

  “No, you’re fine. We’ll eat, and then we’ll come back up, dress, and go out.”

  “So, we are going out.” I brighten up.

  He moves around the bed toward me. “I had planned for us to do something today.” He wraps his arms around my waist and bites his lip. A look of uncertainty spreads across his face.

  “Why the look?” I ask.

  “Well…I’m just not sure if you’ll like what I have planned.”

  “So, tell me what it is, and then I’ll decide if I like it or not.”

  “Nope. No way. I’m not going on that thing. You know I don’t like flying, Hunter. No fucking way am I getting on that plane.”

  I’m standing in front of a small plane, similar to the one in the picture of Liam and Kate—the fiancée. Yep, not going there again.

  Except this one doesn’t have his company logo on the side, and it’s white with a black underbelly and a black-and-bronze tail. And I can see a sign that says we’re at London Oxford Airport. Good to know where I am at least.

  Back at the house, Liam wouldn’t tell me what he had planned. And then he insisted on blindfolding me.

  Blindfolded. I know, right? Sounds awesome. Would have been awesome and totally kinky if there had been sex involved. But an airplane? Not remotely sexy at all.

  Standing behind me, his hands on my shoulders, Liam laughs, and I feel it rumble in his chest against my back.

  “Boston, you flew on a plane to get to England.”

  Turning my head, I slide my eyes up to his. “I flew on that plane—your plane—to get me here for my trip. Necessity. No way in hell am I flying in a plane for the fun of it.” I fold my arms over my chest.

  Liam moves around me to stand in front of me. He closes his hands around my upper arms. “I know you don’t like flying, but I thought you wanted to do something that terrified you to the point of pissing your pants?”

  “Stop quoting my list to me. And I did do something that scared me—the roller coaster, remember?”

  Smiling, he says, “I remember. But you didn’t piss your pants, so you couldn’t have been that scared.”

  “Oh, I was scared. Believe me. And how do you know I didn’t piss myself?”

  “Because I fucked the hell out of you soon after. The only wet patch on your knickers was from me making you come.”

  Good point. My mind immediately slips back to that moment in the Hook a Duck tent, making my insides coil. Awesome memory.

  “So, I didn’t piss myself. But I was definitely afraid.”

  Liam slides his hands down my arms, forcing me to loosen and release them from my chest. He takes my hands in his, holding them between us. “I know you were scared. But after the fear left, do you remember how you felt?”

  “Relieved that I’d done it and that I’d never have to do it again.”

  He laughs a rich deep sound, shaking his head. “You were happy. I could see it in your eyes. You had this look…you looked free, Boston.”

  Maybe, in that moment, I was. But I’m not free. I won’t be free until I see them again. Until I pay my penance.

  Liam steps closer. So close that I have to tilt my face to look up at him. His scent washes over me, easing the fear inside.

  “He who has overcome his fears will truly be free.”

  “And you can stop fucking quoting Aristotle to me as well.” I frown, but it’s not as deep as it should be, and that’s because of him and his infectious laugh and his smiling face and his sparkling autumn eyes.

  Damn him.

  Liam’s laughter fades. His expression deepens, his eyes turning serious. “You’ve faced a brain tumor and survived. Not many people can say that.”

  “Quite a few can. I can quote statistics, if you’d like?”

  It’s his turn to frown. “I don’t care about other people. I care about you.”

  He cares about me?

  His hands leave mine, and he cups my face with them. “I thought I knew the meaning of the word bravery—until I met you. You’d stared death in the face, and you won. Nothing is more terrifying than that.”

  If only you knew.

  Facing death is terrifying when you don’t want to die. But when you do want to die…staring it in the face is freeing.

  I’m staring at it right now.

  Some see death as the Devil trying to take them.

  I see death like an angel. Offering me the peace that nothing on earth would ever be able to give me.

  Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath.

  I know I’m being stupid, not wanting to get on this plane. But that’s always been my problem—letting my fears get the better of me.

  Knowing death is coming for me is liberating, and I should use that liberation to take risks.

  I want to live before I die.

  I think of the story that Liam told me on the roller coaster. What his grandp
a had said to him…

  “There’s nothing wrong with being afraid. Everyone feels fear. But the day you let your fear control you is the day you stop living.”

  Very soon, my lungs won’t breathe anymore. My heart won’t beat. My mind will stop thinking. I’ll be no more. Just a memory that will eventually blur and fade in the mind of the one person who I do want to remember me as his life moves on.

  Doing things you’re afraid of makes your breaths come faster. Your heart beats so hard that it feels like it’s bursting out of your chest. Your mind races so fast that it’s hard to keep up with the thoughts.

  And I’m not just a memory to Liam yet. I’m here and real and solid and in his arms.

  I feel his breath against my mouth before his lips touch mine.

  “You’re brave and strong. You can do this, Boston.”

  I blink open my eyes and stare into his. “You’re right. Let’s do this.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Let’s fly the fuck out of this plane.”

  Liam smile is so bright that it blinds me, coating me like the warmth of the sun.

  Taking me by the hand, he leads me to his plane, walking over the tarmac.

  A guy climbs out of the plane as we approach. He is short, looks to be about fortyish, and has light-brown hair.

  “Liam,” he greets him by shaking his hand. “She’s all ready for you.”

  “Thanks, Henry. Henry, this is my friend Taylor.”

  Henry smiles at me. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Taylor’s going to be my copilot today.”

  My eyes shoot to Liam as a gasp of shock leaves my mouth. “What?” I squeak.

  “I’m kidding.” Liam slides me a look and laughs. “Taylor’s not so keen on flying,” he tells Henry.

  “Well, you’re in safe hands with Liam. He’s an excellent pilot.”

  I know it’s silly because it makes sense that Liam has his pilot’s license—considering what his company is—and he told me his grandpa used to take him out flying, but he’s never actually told me that he has his pilot’s license.

  “Have a good flight,” Henry says to us before making his exit.

  Liam walks over to the plane, and I follow.

  “So, she’s yours then.”

  “Yeah, I bought her new last year. I have a couple of other planes. Older ones.”