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“I never would’ve guessed that back in high school,” I admitted.
Liam shrugged. “We weren’t good pals back then. You knew nothing about me.”
“I knew a little bit. You told me about your dream of being a Formula One driver one night.”
Liam gave a start. “I did?”
“At prom. Do you not remember?”
“Afraid not.”
“Do you remember asking me to dance?”
Now his face really twisted in confusion. “At prom? No. We danced?”
I gave him a playful shove. “I can’t believe you don’t remember! Junior prom. Brandi and I were sitting together until she went off to dance with her date. Then I was all alone. Jack was with his girlfriend, and you came over and took pity on me.”
“I remember dancing with someone other than my date. That was you?”
“It was me. That’s how I remembered you were dating Lindsey Chatwell: she glared at me the entire time. I think she later spread a rumor about me being a slut because of it.”
“Ouch.” Liam popped up from the couch and went to the kitchen to refill his drink. “Was I a good dancer, at least?”
“I don’t remember,” I admitted. “But I remember being really grateful that you asked me to dance. Nobody else did.”
“Don’t know why,” he said. “You were a pretty girl back then. Still are, of course.” He gave me a little wink.
The compliment made me feel all warm inside. Somehow, it meant more coming from Liam since I knew this wasn’t really a date. Like he had no reason to flatter me.
“Thanks, is what I’m trying to say. That one dance did more for my self-esteem than three years of therapy after college.”
He shrugged awkwardly. “I like lifting people up, whether it’s someone trapped in a burning building, or a lovely girl sitting all alone at a dance.” He raised the two jugs of frozen drinks up to the light. “Uh oh. Only enough for about half a drink. Dibs!”
“What! Why do you automatically get the last bit?”
“Because,” he replied simply, “I called dibs. I’ll give you a sip if you admit I’m a bigger Scott Pilgrim fan.”
“Never!” I hurried over to the kitchen. “How about we split it?”
Liam smiled sweetly. “Nope!”
I made my eyes as large and pathetic as I could. “But… my mother died. I’m really sad.”
He glared at me. “You didn’t even go to the funeral!”
I dropped the act. “Come on. Let me have some. I’m only tipsy, and want to get properly drunk.”
“There’s beer in the fridge.”
I reached for the jug. Liam held it away from me like a basketball player protecting the ball. I tried to squeeze past him, but he used his body and free hand to block me. Finally, I leaped onto his back like a monkey, wrapping my legs around his torso and my arms around his neck.
“Get off!” he laughed.
“Give me the drink!”
“You’re an alcohol thief. I’m going to call the police and have you sent to alcohol jail.”
“I thought the police and fire departments hated each other.”
