I looked back at him and smiled. “That’s sweet.”
He leaned in, touching his nose to mine. “It’s true, which means I’ll be a neurotic mess when I leave tomorrow. Are you sure you can’t come with me? I need you to save me from imploding, Chelsea.”
My heart beat so hard it felt like it was enveloping me in its rhythm. Instead of responding with an answer I knew would disappoint us both, I pressed my lips to his and sighed. We sat like that for a long time, slow-kissing and avoiding goodbye until daylight started to fade away.
He threaded his fingers through mine and moved his mouth to my ear. “Remember the night we met?”
I instantly laughed at the memory of the terror that had come over me when his loud music and splashing in the pool had woken me up. “I could never forget. I was terrified.”
He chuckled. “Not for long.”
I met his eyes over my shoulder. “I don’t know if I’ve ever stopped being terrified of you. Only now it’s for other reasons.”
He nodded, and our silence spoke enough for us. He felt the same. Then his mouth moved to my lips, and he spoke against them. “How about one more swim before I have to leave tomorrow?”
My insides squeezed at the question. We were down to counting the hours before his departure, and the aches I was starting to feel were a preview of what I was sure would come. “Okay,” I whispered back.
We gathered our things, made our way back home, then separated to change into our swimsuits. I chose a white two-piece he’d yet to see me in, fully intending to leave him with an image he would never forget.
Liam was already swimming laps when I sat down at the edge of the pool and sank my feet in the water. I watched his perfect strokes, the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin, and the way the water moved for him like he was the conductor to its flow.
After taking his last lap, he popped up between my legs and grinned. “You’re going to be a hard one to leave tomorrow, Chelsea Banks.”
Leaning down, I met his mouth with mine and kissed him while running my hands through his hair. He lifted me off the edge then pulled me into the water. When my legs wrapped around his waist, he sighed into my neck, making my whole body erupt with goose bumps.
“I’m going to miss this,” he whispered.
I swallowed around the lump in my throat while my eyes burned with oncoming tears. Tightening my hold, I placed my lips at his ear. “Well, then you better hurry back to me, Liam Colborn.”
He pulled back slightly, his lips twisting into a smile. “As fast as I can.”
31
Liam
After an entire night of lying awake with Chelsea, I spent the long flight to London sleeping. I was still in a daze when I exited the plane and found Bart waiting for me outside of customs. With a stern look, he nodded in greeting and clapped me on the back.
“Well, it’s about bloody time, mate. You’ve got the press up in arms awaiting your arrival. I hope you’re not too knackered.”
Speaking of the press. I looked around, confused as to why the car we were heading toward wasn’t flooded with those annoying bastards and their cameras. “Awaiting my arrival, eh?”
Bart looked around and grinned. “I told ’em you were already at an undisclosed hotel in Kensington. The nutters are camped out around town, thanks to your cock-up.” Then he jabbed his finger toward the open car door. “Now get in. We’ll talk about the plan.”
The dreaded plan. Bart had been working on his so-called plan for the past week since I’d finally called him and told him I was making arrangements to come home.
“Good. We can talk about the plan on the way to my flat.”
Bart shook his head while he tapped a message out on his phone. “No time.” Then he nodded to a hanging garment bag that I hadn’t noticed was next to me until he’d pointed it out. “Change into that. You have a meeting in an hour.”
“Don’t be a wanker. I just landed. I need a shower, then I need my bed.”
Bart’s eyes snapped to mine. “You’ve been gone for a month, and suddenly you want to stop for a kip? Afraid not, mate. We’ve got to get you out of this mess straightaway.”
Bart had always been a wanker with his own agenda, but he was also the only person I remotely trusted. “Care to share your plan with me? I know nothing, yet you have me booked for a meeting in an hour. Who am I meeting with?”
“Vince wants to have a word to control the narrative of what happens next. It’s only fair since you up and left without a word. You still have a chance to salvage your contract.”
I huffed and leaned my head back into the seat. Just the mention of Vince made my body crawl with annoyance. Vince was the creator and executive director of British Bachelor. The show had been his baby for fourteen years, and he never let anyone forget that.
“I wouldn’t have left if the media hadn’t made a mockery of me thanks to all the bad edits I was given.”
Bart was silent for a moment, which was completely unlike him, but I knew he agreed with what I was saying. “I agree you got the shit end of the stick, but what did you expect? You broke three hearts in one night, leaving us without any footage for a finale. You left us with no choice.”
“I didn’t break three hearts. You know that as well as I do.”
“Right, but you should have let it all play out on camera instead of walking away.”
“And break up with them later when they were expecting a proposal? I couldn’t do that to any of them.”
“Even Francesca?” Bart asked the question with as much bitterness as I felt.
Bart had been there with me, and he’d been just as surprised as I was to find out that Francesca was nothing but a media-hungry wannabe actress.
“As soon as the cameras pointed in the opposite direction, her true colors became crystal clear. She was a completely different person, but I can’t call her out for any of that, now can I?”
Bart shook his head. “You most certainly cannot.”
“Great. So it’s me who looks like the arse. I sure felt like one too.”
Bart twisted his face. “Don’t tell me you were daft enough to believe the lead spot on a high-profile show like this didn’t come with puppet strings.”
I was silent, reveling in my own stupidity for signing on to do the show in the first place. The weight of it all was finally coming fully into picture. The last thing I wanted was to go back to a world where I was controlled by someone else’s narrative. Where was the reality in that? But I couldn’t even form my first syllable before Bart was speaking again.
“This is how the game works. Now you need to finish what you signed on to do.”
“Or I walk away completely and end my contract. I’m no one’s puppet, and it’s not like I need the money.”
I made the mistake of letting my gaze settle back on his. Bart’s level glare blazed back at me with anger. “Oh, you don’t, do ya? Well, I don’t give a shit about your financial situation. When they assigned me as your producer, my arse got put on the line too. Your actions affect others. And do I also need to remind you of a contract you signed with the network? The moment you walked away from that show, you opened yourself up to one hell of a lawsuit. Vince will be more than happy than to pursue legal action if his precious ratings are at stake. You might not need the money, but you sure as hell can’t afford to lose any.”