I snort. Liam’s nailing the adoring boyfriend part, but apparently there’s still some work to be had on my end accepting said admiration.
It’s not a particularly familiar experience of mine, especially given the mother I have, so it might take some time.
“Evie, look at me.” A sharp, frustrated edge in his voice prompts me to listen.
Breath steals from my lungs the second I meet his eyes. Cast in the glow of an overhead streetlamp, the gold flecks held within dance with a passion that could rival Gene Kelly.
“I’m looking at you,” I rasp.
“Good, and do you see what you do to me?”
My heartbeat pounds in the hollow of my throat. I want this for real, but there’s no way I could actually have that effect on him. He’s just trying to right an old wrong. “Drive you up a wall.”
“You have no idea how true that is.” He brushes a tear off my cheek, and my lashes flutter closed at the sparking sensation his skin against mine produces. “How you continuously sucker punch me with those big blue eyes.”
He brushes another tear falling on my right side. “And that damn hair of yours that still sparkles in the sun and drives me wild.”
The ache inside dips into something more profound. Richer. These are all the things that Caroline says are wrong with me, and his voice is treating them like they’re treasures, like they’re worth revering.
“I expect you to be very mature about this information in the future,” he whispers. “But Evie, I shut a door in your face the other day because I was hard, and I panicked.”
I stutter, blinking at this admission. “I’m sorry—I’m—uhm—I’m going to need you to repeat that. You, what?”
The tips of his ears turn red, and he mouths, “I got a boner.”
My head tilts back, releasing a boisterous, cathartic laugh, and Liam beams down at me. And for a microsecond, I see the reality Nana wanted for us. The one where he’s a safe haven instead of a threat. Where when I cry, he’s there to cheer me up instead of being the original instigator.
“That’s the story you’re going with? I didn’t know ogres and bonnet-wearing dolls were your things.”
“You’re so fucking stubborn it’s ridiculous.” He sighs. “Maybe I should tell Harmony the story instead.”
“Don’t you dare. I’m Harmonied out.”
“And honestly—” Harmony’s voice grows closer. “Those big-ass cakes are her brand or whatever, but she doesn’t have to eat the entire thing herself—”
“On second thought, share away,” I grit out.
“Oh, okay, good.” He shoots his head toward their voices, opening his mouth.
“I was joking!” I panic and pull at his shirt, tugging him back toward me.
He comes to a rest, inches from my lips. My breath hitches. His eyes flicker to my mouth. My chin tilts a fraction, our lips almost brushing together. He just has to finish the lean.
He closes his eyes with a pained expression, “Evie, listen—”
“There you two are,” Harmony sounds over Liam’s shoulder. “We almost missed you.”
“Oh, Harmony. Hi.” I rise on my toes, peering over his broad figure.
“This is my friend Samantha,” Harmony says. “She’s new to the city, but she reached out, and I just had to take her under my wing.”
Samantha narrows her gaze at me. I bury into Liam’s shadow, hoping the combination of poor lighting and a six-four figure obscures me from recognition, and deflate when her face illuminates with dawning.
“Oh my god.” She laughs. “Harmony, I think that’s totally Cheese Girl.”
Liam, still caging me, raises a single brow and mouths, “Cheese girl?”
“I may have done shots of Cheez Whiz on the Métro,” I say in a hushed explanation. “It was not a particularly proud moment, and I don’t wish to revisit it.”
