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until I fell asleep.  

CHAPTER THREE

    “Wake up, sleepy head.”  
    I groaned and rolled over, pulling the doona cover over my head.  
    “Here, I made you breakfast.” A deep, rumbly, sexy, familiar voice reached me through the pile of blankets. Liam. Here. I still didn’t open my eyes or push the blankets off me. My mouth was dry and parched. I really needed some water. Last night flashed through my mind. Coming home from the pub, finding Liam waiting for me. The gossip about him and Holly being true. My long simmering feelings bubbling to the surface at an inopportune time. I closed my eyes tighter.  
    “Come on, get up. Your hangover can’t be that bad. I drank more than you.” Cajoling. He was cajoling me.  
    “Burnsy, you’ve always been able to drink me under the table.” I still remembered trying to keep up with him, drink for drink the night we celebrated him getting a call for his first major role. It wasn’t the best memory to put it lightly.  
    “I have pancakes. And bacon.”  
    That made me throw the blankets off my face. I squinted in the too-bright light. The bastard had opened my blinds.  
    “Ugh,” I pulled the doona back over my face. “Where’d you get bacon from?” I didn’t have any in the house, I knew that much at least. I hadn’t eaten bacon for three years.  
    “Mum made an early morning delivery. Well, it’s not exactly early morning anymore you lazy piece of shit, it’s almost noon and I got sick of waiting for you to get up. I’m surprised you slept through her visit.”
    “What? Your Mum was here? Ugh. And give me a break, we were up until 3am and besides, I haven’t slept in past 6am all week.” I wasn’t sure if he could understand all that through the muffled blankets.  
    “Can’t hear you, take the bloody doona off your face,” he laughed.  
    “No. It’s too bright. And I look hideous.”  
    Liam just laughed, and I felt a heavy weight on my feet as he sat down on the end of my bed.  
    “Jen, I’ve seen you worse than this, give it a rest.”
    I sighed.  
    “Fiiiiine. But only because there’s pancakes. I hope your Mum brought maple syrup, I don’t have any.”  
    “Nah, sorry. Just bacon and orange juice and coffees… but I drank them both already, sorry.”  
    “Well, that explains the energy…” I grumbled. “No maple syrup? I can’t have pancakes without maple syrup!” With that I threw the blankets off me and got out of bed.  
    “Your own fault,” Liam smirked at me. “Your house after all.”  
    “What?” I demanded. Liam was looking me up and down with an odd look on his face.  
    “Huh? Oh. Nothing. Come on. I’m hungry.”  
    I followed him out, grabbing my old Monash University hoodie and some pyjama bottoms out of my wardrobe. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and felt my cheeks burn. How could I have let him see me like this? My hair was a mess, mascara smudged under my eyes, and worst of all I was wearing barely anything. I was just in a singlet and undies. You could see my nipples. I hastily pulled the hoodie on and pulled up my pyjamas, and gave my hair a quick brush - that just made it look greasy and like I hadn’t washed it for a week, so I messed it up again. Stupid hair.  
    I quietly followed the tantalising smell of frying bacon to my kitchen. Liam had managed to find his way around my kitchen (which I admired but would never tell him - I didn’t know my way around my kitchen yet) and set a table for two. There was a pile of pancakes to start with, and more batter on the counter. Two glasses of orange juice sat on the table, along with flowers.  
    “Flowers? Really, Burnsy, you shouldn’t have.”
    “Oh. Yeah. Mum brought those too. For you. For having me last night.”
    I laughed. “Oh, Linda…”  
    “Seriously though,” he said as he piled a few pancakes onto his own plate. “Thanks.”
    “No problemo, amigo. What are friends for?”
    Liam smiled his award winning smile at me.