The woman had long blond hair that was tied up in a loose, elegant braid. Her light-green eyes practically swallowed the camera whole on her next close-up. Everything about her was perfect, every damn thing. Liam leaned in for a kiss.
I squinted because, for a second, I really did think I was losing my mind. The Liam look-alike on television appeared to match Liam’s physical traits to a T, but his style was all wrong and didn’t belong to the Liam I knew at all.
Suddenly, everything was starting to make sense—Liam’s secrets, the way he’d backed off last night when I’d asked too many questions. He didn’t want me to know something about this show. But why?
Like a train wreck waiting to happen, I watched the Liam on TV smile at the blond woman in the sparkly dress like he was completely in love with her. The way he stared down at her so adoringly, I wouldn’t have doubted if that were the case.
My stomach clenched as my heart squeezed in my chest. What the hell is going on? I felt like someone was slicing me with a swift blade, and the pain was slowly setting in, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away long enough to save myself. The damage was done. I didn’t know what was worse. The fact that Liam clearly wasn’t who he said he was, or the fact that it was now excruciatingly clear how much I liked him and all the reasons why I shouldn’t.
I knew he’d been keeping something from me. My gut had told me so. The red flags had been flying in front of my face since the day we met. Yet, I would have ignored every single warning if he hadn’t been so quick to walk away the other night. I would have slept with him, and I was certain my feelings would only have grown from there.
In my peripheral, I could see that my mom was watching the show too. Liam pulled the blonde onto an empty dance floor while an orchestra serenaded them. He pulled her close, ran his nose along her cheek, then whispered something in her ear that made her smile.
Embarrassment flooded me as I recalled my time with Liam last night, which had been nothing like this. It had been the complete opposite, in fact. I’d never even worn a fancy dress outside of a few high school dances, and they certainly hadn’t been as nice as the one on television.
“Have you watched this show?” I asked my mom without taking my eyes off the screen. I hoped she couldn’t hear the way my heart rattled and my voice shook.
“Oh yes,” she said, her eyes widening.
“What is it?”
“A British reality dating show, but it’s just a repeat. The season ended last week, and boy oh boy, did this Liam fellow make a mess of things. You can never trust a handsome man like that.”
I was trying hard not to cry as I whipped my head to catch my mom tsking. “He made a mess of things? How so?”
She nodded at the television. “He started out with thirty women and eliminated all but three, then on the last show, when it came time to pick one, he packed his bags and left them all hanging.” She shook her head. “Everyone thought he would pick her.” She referenced the woman Liam was escorting into a limo. “He picked out an engagement ring and everything.”
A glimmer of hope sparked in my chest. “So, he just decided he didn’t want to marry any of them?” That didn’t sound too terrible. No one should feel forced to propose.
The shot cut from the date to an interview-type setting, where Liam was speaking directly to the camera. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but that was probably for the best.
“They say he fled Britain too. The media can’t track him down. The producers have no clue where he is. He just up and disappeared when clearly he has some explaining to do. He’s a coward, if you ask me.” She ran a hand over my back. “And you thought Dean was a prick. This guy is the real deal.”
My dad cleared his throat behind us. “Well, that’s my cue.” He stood and squeezed my mom’s shoulder, then turned to me. “Staying for a while, honey? I’m baking a fresh batch of scones.”
I squeezed out a smile as I rose to my feet. “No thanks, Dad. I’ve got to get back to the Hogues’. I want to take advantage of all the writing time I have.” And possibly research a certain Liam Colborn.
“Ah back to the muse.” He grinned, his innocence bringing lightness to my heart, even in the circumstances. If my parents only knew that my muse for my current story was the same coward who had just paraded some blonde around on television before breaking her heart.
If I’d had any doubts in my mind when it came to exploring things further with Liam, my heart and mind could now rest easy. Unfortunately, I knew rest was the last thing my heart and mind would do.
15
Liam
I wasn’t trying to stalk Chelsea when I caught her leaving Spill the Tea, but when I saw the look on her face, I thought better than to go to her. She was already angry with me, and I’d already resolved that it was okay for it to be that way. After obsessing over my decision to leave her place the other night without sleeping with her and imagining all the things that would have happened if I had stayed, I knew I couldn’t take back how things had ended. Not unless I were to tell her the true reason for my being here.
I also went over all the reasons I should and shouldn’t tell her everything—the whole sordid story of my past fuckups—and it became even more clear that I should leave it alone. Why give her my past to deal with when she was so focused on her future? Chelsea was a firecracker of a woman, a woman I wanted desperately to get to know better, but she was also a woman with standards, and I had no right to pretend I was good enough for her.
So, instead of following her on the path she’d taken to get back to the manor, I slipped on my sunglasses and a cap, then entered Spill the Tea. Just like the first day I visited the small tearoom, soft music came through the speakers, and a couple of guests were already seated at a table near the front of the room. Chelsea’s mom was at the counter counting money in the register, but as I took another step inside, she looked up and gave me a friendly smile.
It wasn’t until I was halfway to her that I heard my voice coming from the televisions positioned around the room. Panic hit me hard. My first thought was that I didn’t want to be recognized, but that thought dissolved quickly when I recalled the last time I visited the shop. Between my sunglasses, my clothes, and the fact that I was in Providence, Rhode Island, chances of the tearoom owner recognizing me were slim. They simply weren’t expecting my presence. Not only that, but the me who appeared on that television screen was an imposter.
Then my second thought hit me. Did Chelsea see me on television before she walked out of Spill the Tea?
The gnawing in my gut increased as I worried I already knew the truth, but I tried to think positively. Maybe she hadn’t paid attention to the television, or maybe the televisions hadn’t even been turned on until she’d walked out.
Suddenly, I wished I had told Chelsea everything last night, no matter what was going on between us. I didn’t want her to find out on her own, and eventually, she would.
I continued cautiously forward, my steps slower than when I’d first come inside, but no one gave me a suspicious glance. If anything, the older woman seemed even friendlier to me than she had the last time I’d seen her.