Every part of her body still ached from a grueling match. It had been bloody, painful, and sweet, and she had all the reminders of it still written in her flesh. It was equal parts relief and frustration when the knock came at the door. She was glad that her room service had finally arrived, but now she had to get up and answer the door.

It was with a hiss that she stood. Muscles protested, healing cuts pulled tight. She moved slowly to make sure that she didn't aggravate anything overmuch. It was going to take a few days of doing almost nothing to recover, but that was fine. She could sit still for that long. Or so she hoped.

When she pulled open the door, everything became a blur until her back hitting the wall sent a jolt of pain through her and the sound of the lamp hitting the floor jarred her back into the moment. Though her eyes had closed, Notting Hill and a hard body filled the rest of her senses. Her legs were around a waist and her hands were starting to remove a shirt and her lips were responding to a hard kiss before her brain had even caught up.

“What are you doing here?”

Her lungs ached because she had forgotten how to breathe. Her heart was hammering in her chest, hurting her ribs from the inside out. A million thoughts ran through her mind, but they were running in sand, sluggish and slipping.

“You.”

“Baby, I can't.”

The word came out without her meaning to say it and she instantly blushed so hotly that a little sweat broke out on the back of her neck. A huge fist curled in her hair and pulled her head back. The gesture wasn't rough, but the bite to her pulse was. Still, he paused—because he was him—while her hands were sliding up his newly-bared chest toward his shoulders and then down over his arms. The fingers of her left hand ran over his cast and she felt a twinge of guilt.

“You're sending mixed messages.”

“How did you even find my hotel?”

“Did you think I ever didn't know where you were? You weren't hiding. You asked for my help in New York, you travel for shows, you announce where you are on social media. And with the creeper around, I've been paying extra attention.”

A tremor ran up her spine as he adjusted her legs with one hand. The other never left her hair. Meanwhile, her own fingers were remembering just how massive his biceps were. His whole body dwarfed hers where it pinned her to the wall.

“Liam, we need to talk, we can't just jump right into this.”

“Then why are you taking off my shirt?”

...So she was. She tried to close her eyes, but they had never opened, like they refused to look at him. Her hands weren't listening, her eyes weren't listening, she couldn't seem to make any part of her at all function under her own will. When he kissed her again, she kissed him back. When he laid her down on the bed, she melted into the blankets without insisting on that talk.

She tried to sit up, but she wouldn't. She tried to get her arm to put another pillow behind her, but it wouldn't move either. She couldn't even make herself reach for the covers and pull them over herself. He must have seen her struggle, because she heard him laugh under his breath. 

“If you want to stop, just say it.”

But she didn't say it. He laughed again as his hands came to rest on her sides, slowly pushing her shirt up to expose her bruised and cut belly. He was testing her, and she knew it. She managed to get one of her hands to move, only enough to rest against the back of one of his. Some part of her wanted to slow him down, but the rest didn't.

“I watched your match. I'll be careful when I need to be.”

...When he needed to be?

“What—”

The question was cut off as he pulled her head back by the hair again. The sensation in her scalp was more tingle than twinge, and it sent a shiver down her spine. The bite he gave to her collarbone was sure to leave a mark the next day, but she didn't care. Various aches and pains activated as he slowly lowered the weight of his body on top of her, but so did other things.

“Just say the words.”

Say the words? What exactly did he want her to say? Well, she had an idea, but... The heat in her face was juxtaposed by the goosebumps that rose on her arms. He chuckled again, and she knew he was shaking his head even though her eyes weren't open to see it. His thumb brushed across her throat as his hand laid against the side of her face.

“We're a little past being shy, don't you think?”

Fuck it. He was right.

“Take me... please.”

 

 

- - - - -

Though she remembered having fallen asleep laying fully on top of him with his thick arms trapping her against his body, she woke up with her belly against the mattress and the sheets wrapped carefully around her. The slow pressure moving up and down her back told her just why she had awakened at—seven AM. She made a frustrated sound and pressed her face back into the pillow, trying to shut out the world.

“No.”

“Bags are already packed. Let's get going. I've got breakfast for you.”

“I'll eat it in two hours when I actually get up.”

“You can sleep more in the Jeep. The easy way, or the hard way. It's up to you.”

Aidan growled again, shoving the covers back and sitting up. Almost as quickly as she did, she was on her feet, hissing softly. Every little motion ached or stung in some way, but one thing had come as a surprise, leaving her looking at him wide-eyed.

“...You bruised my ass!”

He looked rather proud of himself. The expression on his face equal parts, “So what?” and, “What are you going to do about it?” The kiss he gave to her forehead when he pulled her against him was just shy of patronizing.

“I also have a hot bath ready for you, since you were good and got out of bed.”

The words made her scowl, but she couldn't escape the squeeze of his arms. When he pressed his lips to the side of her neck and whispered in her ear, she stopped squirming.

“Keep being good, or I'll bruise it some more.”

It wasn't a threat. She wasn't afraid of him. It made her shiver. It made her heart race. The things he was saying were things she didn't mind hearing. It was just strange to hear them from him.

“Liam, you don't have to—”

“Go. Take your bath, and hope I don't come to join you. No more talking. No more protesting. We've got a long drive and a lot to work out, and for once you're going to listen more than you talk.”

That was fair, really. The words might have been misconstrued as condescending, but he had always been the one to listen and always let her be right. He pretended like every mistake she ever made had never happened, up until September, and here he was again...

“Okay.”

The water was still steaming as she stepped into it. It was almost too hot for her bruised flesh to stand, but she slipped down until it covered her shoulders. It was hard to tell if the smell of jasmine was coming from the water or the nearby towels, but she closed her eyes and let it soothe her mind a bit. However long she had, she wanted to enjoy the hot bath.

He gave her longer than she expected, though not as long as she would have liked. There was no chance to protest, however. He pulled the plug on the tub without saying a word and picked her up out of the tub as soon as it was apparent she had even the slightest bit of difficulty. He had laid out her favorite old shirt and jeans on the counter for her, and gave her the privacy to change on her own.

As soon as she was out of the bathroom, he gave her the breakfast he had waiting. She must have made a face, because she heard him sigh. When she looked up, the expression on his face was withering, but only to her because she knew him well enough.

“Eat.”

“I'm just not hungry after my match last night.”

When he wrapped his hands around her upper arms, it was gentle. When he towered over her it made her feel guilty, not uncomfortable. When he looked down into her eyes, she quickly looked away.

“We slept together for months, I know what your body feels like in top form. I had my hands all over you last night, and I know you haven't been eating enough.”

He was right, yeah, but she had plenty of reasons. He didn't know them, she couldn't tell them all. She didn't expect him to understand it. But if she tried to protest, then she would end up trying to explain, and she didn't want to do that.

She tried not to sigh as she eased out of his grasp and moved toward the table. She tried not to make it obvious that she sat with her back to him so that he wouldn't see her misery as she forced herself to eat. Either he knew anyway or she took too long, because by the time she'd choked down half of it, he slid it out from in front of her. The kiss to her temple didn't make the imagined aftertaste any better.

“Thank you. You can sleep while I drive. When you wake up, we're going to talk.”

What could she do, except for nod? As he carried the bags and she trailed behind, she realized just how badly they had trashed the room together the night before. A hint of pink rose in her cheeks, but it faded quickly enough. For the moment, she really had no idea what to expect. As long as she didn't see a shovel and a blue tarp in the back when he put the bags in, she'd at least assume she would make it to Nashville.

- - - - -

The day of driving had been emotional and exhausting. Liam had let her sleep for a few more hours in the Jeep, but he had known the exact moment she woke up. From there forward she had had been telling him every last detail of the disaster that had begun all the way back in September. Not because she wanted to, not because he continually pressed her, but because he had told her that was what she was going to do and there was no room for argument.

There had been several stops along the way. Certain important—and rough—business had been handled a time or two. He just told her what he wanted and when he wanted it, and she didn't deny him. Because she wanted it too. 

Now they had stopped for the night and she was once again laying on top of him with his arms wrapped around her to keep her from going anywhere. Her head rested on his shoulder, her eyes were fixed on the corner of the room, staring without seeing. He was stroking her hair slowly. He didn't say anything. She didn't expect him to. For the most part he had just made those rumbling thoughtful sounds in his chest. She hadn't even really been able to read his expressions when she had tried.

“...Why did you want to hear all of that? Why put yourself through it, Liam? You've done more for me than I ever deserved, even before everything. Why are you here now? I cheated on you.”

“You separated from me first before you did.”

“No, goddammit, be angry! Don't you dare forgive me.”

“I didn't say I forgave you.”

“Then why are you here? Why all of this? ...Is it revenge?”

He gave a bare little laugh deep in his chest. The fingers stroking her hair curled into a fist and pulled her head back until he could kiss her, softly this time. Her lips were bruised enough by the rest of the day.

“No. It's not revenge.”

“...Then what is it?”

He just stared up at her through the murk of the room. The lights were out and outside the sun was setting, leaving a faint orange glow through the curtains. More than enough to see by.

“You already know the answer to that.”

“Liam... I don't want to hurt you again.”

She had almost said, “I don't want to do this again,” but that would have been a lie. Truthfully, the thought had been worming its way in since she had seen him in Bethany's office. It had faded, but after the night that had put him in the cast, it had never really left her mind. Before her match her thoughts had even been slipping back to him.

“You won't.”

“You don't know that. That's all I'm capable of doing, haven't you figured that out?”

“Yes, I do know, because I'm not going to let you.”

A shiver ran up her spine. He pulled the sheets higher up on her shoulders.

“Liam...”

“Aidan, I've known exactly what you were from the first moment I laid eyes on you. I saw everything hiding inside behind that enchanting smile. All your anger, all your shadows and demons, all your hurt. It's never been a mystery to me. I wanted all of it. The good, the bad, the ugly, the imperfect. Every last bit of it is beautiful.”

“You have a really skewed idea of what beauty is.”

“Or maybe you do.”

“I know that I do.”

“You're in a dark place right now, it makes it hard to see.”

“And I've dragged you into it, again.”

“I came on my own free will. I've known the way back out. I've just been waiting for you to be ready to follow. You're capable of more than more than just hurting people. You sent your friend to me for help with twenty-thousand dollars in her pocket, and you knew exactly which one of my brothers would like her. You didn't do it just to get her out of your hair.”

“And I didn't do it because I'm a bleeding heart, either. I told you...”

She felt her muscles tense involuntarily as her mind reeled back through everything that had happened again. Everything in England eight years ago, everything in January. It made her stomach twist into a knot. Liam eased her down onto her side and tucked the pillows against her to make her comfortable. He still kept her squeezed against his chest, though.

“If you need to keep fighting me on this, then keep fighting me. You've got to come around in your own way, I know that. But you're not running me off. I gave you space while you needed it. I watched you make the mistakes you needed to make. Now I'm going to make sure you've got someone to walk you back when you get to the end of this road.”

One hand traveled down his side. He was shirtless, but still wearing his jeans. As her fingers traced over his belt she felt a phantom stinging sensation in various places.

“This other stuff... It's... I know it's out of the norm, and you don't have to do it for me, okay? It's been nice... it's been fucking amazing, but I don't want you to do shit like that if it's not your thing, okay?”

Her eyes tilted up in time to see him smirk before he leaned in to whisper in her ear. His beard tickled her neck and one of the beads braided into it was cool on her skin. But the words took her breath away and left her trembling against him.

“Any more doubts?”

“...No.”

“Good. It's so much easier when you cooperate.”

Aidan closed her eyes and tucked her head against his neck. Her fingers traveled up his shoulder and over the smooth-shaven side of his head until she found his hair. He hadn't bothered to style it for the drive, just put on a hat to cover it, so she was able to run her fingers through it. She hadn't asked him about the new look, but she didn't mind it. It was... sexy in its way.

“Why, Liam? Why me? What have I ever done to deserve you? You give me everything, and I don't feel like I give anything back to you. I'm just... damaged goods.”

And he whispered,

“You'll always be my Broken Queen,”

as the sunlight faded.