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He paused with a frown. “Go and enjoy your date.”
“Date?” I repeated, a little annoyed at his tone. Like he was bitter about it. “I was invited out by one of my castmates, but why did you say ‘date’ like that?”
He raised his brow. “I figured it was a date since I’ve seen you texting someone named Jordan. I put two and two together.” Though now his bitter tone was replaced by an apologetic one. “I didn’t mean to sound a certain way about it or pry into your personal life.”
I waved it off, my mind spinning with the conclusion he was drawing. He wasn’t far off. “Jordan’s my ex-boyfriend. I don’t know what you saw or…”
“Not much, really, and I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“It’s okay.”
He shook his head, his gaze down and unfocused, and I felt the need to explain myself. As absurd as it was, I blurted it all out anyway. “I was living with him in the Poconos, but we broke up in April.”
Liam curled his bottom lip up between his teeth and squinted at me, as if I was something to study as I went on.
“We’ve been texting for the past few weeks, had a phone call the night I found out I got the part. I was really excited, and when he texted me, I told him and…” I let out a long breath. “Anyway, he wants to get back together, but it didn’t…end well, and I’m trying to figure out how I feel about him. He’s telling me he’s changed, that he’s working on himself, which I’m happy about, but I’m not sure I can trust him, you know?”
Liam stared at the floor for a while, his jaw ticking, and right when I thought I should excuse myself, he leaned toward me, covering my hand with his so I had to stop scratching at the material of the couch. “He hurt you?”
I only nodded, afraid to answer and admit more than I was ready to. That it wasn’t only an emotional hurt, but a physical one too.
Liam gazed at me like he was trying to imprint his words on me. “You deserve so much better than that.”
My nose stung and my eyes watered, and before I consciously thought about it, I turned my palm up, wrapping my fingers around his hand. He brushed his thumb over my knuckles, and the tender touch made my pulse stutter.
After a long moment of me finding my breath and his thumb continuously stroking, he squeezed my hand then slowly backed away. “I think I’m gonna go hit the bag for a while.”
I aimed for a smile, hoping the distance between us from the past week had finally dissipated. “Thanks for…everything.”
He offered me a single tip of his chin then pivoted away with a quiet, “Night, Kennedy.”
“Night, Liam.” I watched him walk away, wondering what or who he thoughthedeserved. I suspected whoever eventually caught his eye wouldn’t ever deserve him.
TWELVE
LIAM
Ishifted my feet, resisting the urge to loosen my tie as I made idle small talk with the other professors. Occasional events like this were part of the job—special ceremonies, academic conferences, lectures. Tonight, it was a cocktail party, which was really an excuse for the faculty to schmooze with the wealthy alumni during homecoming weekend and remind them how grateful we were for their donations.
So far, I’d had not one person ask me about my classes, but I did have over a dozen people tell me how funny the viral video was, four people ask if I would ever be invited back on television again, and one bold woman slip me her phone number.
Super.
After obtaining a fresh drink, I found a quiet corner from which to people watch. It wasn’t as if I hated being with my colleagues or attending important events for the school, but I didn’t have the easiest time making conversation. I’d grown up with three outgoing brothers, while I was the more introverted one. It didn’t help that I’d been a tall and lanky geek in a neighborhood filled with guys who didn’t think twice about pushing others around. I had often found it easier to hide in corners than put myself out there.
It wasn’t until my brother Seamus took me under his wing and started to teach me how to box that I became more confident. I was finally able to stand up for myself.
Still, twenty years later, sometimes it was easier to fall into old habits.
“There you are.”
I shot my focus up from where I’d been scrolling on my cell phone to Dr. Lang. “Hi, Nadine. How are you?”
“I’m good. I was wondering if you had a moment to chat.” She motioned to where I attempted to discreetly slide my cell phone into my pocket. “And it looks like you do.”
I let out an embarrassed laugh. “Uh, yeah. Sorry.”
She merely pressed her mouth into a thin line, a sort of smile, and my neck heated. Nadine Lang was the chair of the department, and she was a straight shooter. I liked her a lot, though she was a bit intimidating.
