He leans back and grips his neck. “You were crying and I just . . .” he says quickly. “I don’t know. I mean, tears and girls . . .” Liam rambles and gets up. He stands there and wipes his hand down his face. “Guys don’t know what to do with tears!” he says, frustrated.

I smother my enjoyment at the situation. I really do, but he looks ridiculous and endearing.

“Lee, I’m sorry. You were begging me to make it stop.” He starts to pace and speaks fast. “I mean, Jesus.”

“Yeah, but why did you think you should kiss me?” I ask, trying to not smile again. But right now, he’s adorable. He’s flustered and out of his element. I stand and put my hand on his arm to stop him from pacing.

“I don’t know. I mean, what the hell? You were crying. Like full blown tears! I’m a guy. We don’t do tears.” He throws his hands up and starts to mumble to himself about women. “Fucking tears. I mean, I just thought . . . if I kissed you then you’d stop fucking crying.”

I burst out laughing again and grip his face. “You’re so dumb,” I laugh and he relaxes. “Next time a girl is crying, just hold her.”

“Don’t cry anymore. Ever. I’m not equipped to deal with that shit.”

“I can’t promise that,” I look into his eyes.

Liam’s arms wrap around my back and the urge to kiss him rises. “I hated seeing it,” he murmurs.

“What?”

“Watching you cry. I’ve never felt so helpless.” Liam shakes his head and then looks down. “I’m sorry I tried to kiss you.”

I pull his face back to me.

“Liam, I . . . it . . .” I want to see. I want to kiss him and ease his embarrassment, but more than that I want to kiss him. I may hate myself later, but I’m not sure about anything right now. Liam makes me feel safe. Aaron is gone. I look into his eyes, and battling the need to feel this man, to feel desired, to be kissed by him becomes insurmountable.

Slowly, I lean in. His eyes watch mine as I pull his head closer and he lets me. He allows me to lead this and I see the desire build behind his eyes. I watch the storm pass across his face as he processes, and I measure what I’m doing.

“Natalie . . .” he says low and reverent.

The way my name rolls from his lips makes me want him more. We breathe in each other’s breaths. Taking and giving this moment, my stomach tightens as I press my lips to his. I don’t think. I try not to focus on the differences. The way his lips are firm but yielding. The way he doesn’t move and every part of him is stiff. I don’t allow myself to compare the differences in height. How I have to lift up on my toes to reach him. My fingers glide to the back of his head and thread in his hair. I want him to kiss me, but right now he stands like a statue. Tilting my head, I try to get him to respond, but the only thing I feel are his hands tightening against my back as he grips my shirt. I break away and we both open our eyes.

Whatever he’s looking for in my eyes, he finds, and Liam’s resolve cracks. His hand moves to my upper back as his mouth is on mine. This kiss is his. This kiss isn’t asking—it’s taking. His lips press against mine, firm and strong. I sigh unconsciously and he takes that as permission. I feel his tongue brush against mine and the muscles in my stomach clench. Liam holds me against him and holds me together. I lose myself in his touch. Even in this moment, he gives to me. He pulls me closer and my fingers tangle in his hair and grip. I don’t want to stop.

I want him.

I want this.

I need this.

I hate this.

Conflict stirs suddenly as realization dawns on me.

I’m kissing Liam Dempsey and I like it.

My fingers loosen and then his grip does. Liam releases me and we both try to catch our breath. I look at him and his eyes drift to the mantel. He stares at the flag and my insides hurt.

“Natalie,” he grumbles in a low tone. He’s upset. “I . . . fuck . . . I just . . .”

“Please, don’t,” I request hoping he won’t say this was a mistake or that he’s sorry. I hate the word “sorry” and I sure as hell don’t want to hear it from his mouth. I’m tired of people apologizing. You’re not sorry. You don’t know what to say and I’m over hearing it.

“No, listen,” his hand grips my arm as I try to turn. “Fucking listen. I don’t know what this is. I mean, you’re . . . well . . . you!” he exclaims and drops his hand. “We’ve been friends for a long time and you’ve always been his wife. I don’t know if I’m making any sense.”

This whole situation is confusing. There’s a part of me—a big part—that’s weighted and suffocating in guilt. I feel in some small way as if I cheated on my husband. I know I didn’t. I know that he’s gone, and hell, he wanted me to move on, but it’s there. Deep in my gut, I’m tormented that this was wrong. Then there’s the other side of me—the woman side—that wanted and needed to be touched. I enjoyed the way his lips felt against mine. The way Liam took me in his arms and the way my body molded to his. It was everything I needed and nothing I wanted to need. But I initiated it. I went to him and I would do it again.

“I’m not sure what to say,” I reply honestly. “I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to not want to kiss you,” I give a half laugh.

Liam steps forward and pulls me against him. “I wanted to not want to want you, but I do. I don’t know how or when, but I have these feelings for you. I don’t know if we should do this. I don’t know that either of us is ready for this,” Liam says quietly as we hold each other.

“I don’t either. Maybe we should take all of this one day at a time. I don’t know that I’m ready.” I look at him as he gazes into my eyes. “I know I don’t want you to stop coming around, but I don’t know what I’m capable of. I mean, it’s not even been a year and I just . . .” Tears pool in my eyes as I try to process what happened. I kissed my friend. I kissed Aaron’s friend, and I’m not sure if it’s wrong.

“You’re not getting rid of me. And I don’t want to push you. But I want to kiss you again. Unless you want me to stop?” He waits and my breathing increases.

The anticipation builds inside. It roils and grows, taking up every inch of my soul. I want this. I measure the parts of myself, trying to see whether it’s guilt scraping its way through me or whether it’s desire. The desire pools and smothers any guilt. My heart wants this and so does my body. I inhale and close my eyes, taking in each note of spice and sandalwood. The feel of strong arms wrapped around me. I shiver even though there’s not one part of me that’s cold.

“Do you want me to stop, Lee?” Liam’s voice is husky and laced with want.

Liam’s hands make their way up my spine and then back down around my hips. He lifts me off the ground and his breath warms my face. I can feel him grow closer and closer. “Now’s the time, sweetheart,” he says, practically touching my lips.

“No,” I breathe the word.

“No, you don’t want me to stop, or no, you do?” he asks, his nose brushing against mine. His lips are a millimeter from mine and one nudge and we’d be touching.