I was ready to accept that Liam might actually have feelings insomecapacity, but not whatever that was. He couldn’t—no. There’s no way. “Are we practicing?” I whisper.
Liam keeps his eyes down, and a small, rueful smile quirking his lips. “No, Peaches, there’s nothing to practice.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t get—”
Bashfully, he meets my stare. “The backstory was real, Evie. I’m in love with you. I always have been,” he continues with a trembling voice. “You know, you were right. I thought I could handle this. Thought, hell, I pretended not to care for so long, what’s a little pretending the other way? Should be easier, right? But this broke me. Your fucking lips broke me.”
Every inch of me itches to close what little space is left between us and throw my arms around him in a wild embrace, but my brain is being held captive by the words pouring out of his mouth, and I can’t find the courage to move. Worried he’ll stop, worried I fell asleep on the couch and none of this is real.
“Because I’ve wanted you since before I knew what wanting someone felt like, and finally having you and knowing it wasn’t real? That’s worse than not having you at all.
“So I’ve been overanalyzing every fucking moment of this. Wondering if there was a spark of hope in the way you looked at me or if what we were doing meant anything to you. I thought maybe if we spent enough time together, you’d at least see we could be friends, but when you didn’t even want that—” He scrubs a hand over his face. “I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. I should—I should probably go, sorry to bother you.”
Every word out of Liam’s mouth shakes me down to the marrow.He’s in love with me. He wants me. He’s agonized over the very same things I have.
And this is real?Say something!My brain is a jumbled chaos of starter sentences, and none seem right.
He takes a step toward the door, and I panic. “Don’t you fucking dare. Yeah, that was a lot to dump on me, but it was more than I could ever dream of you saying, so if you can just give my brain a second to process that you love me too—”
Liam turns, and my eyes widen at the unconscious slip.
He meets my gaze. “I’m sorry. Did you say ‘too’?”
“No,” I panic, covering my mouth.
He just poured his heart out to you, asshat.
“Evie—” Liam steps forward, eyes wild. “Why did you say too?”
“I mean, I feel like that statement’s pretty self-explanatory.”
Oh, for the love of sprinkles, woman. Tell. Him.
“Not in this case, Peaches.” He takes another step forward, and his lithe body takes on an almost wolfish prowl. “Because I’ve been under the impression you’ve hated me with every fiber of your being for the last ten or so years, while I suffered through an acute form of unrequited love—so I’d really like you to elaborate on that ‘too.’”
“It may have come to my attention recently that I harbor a significant amount of positive feelings for you and probably have for some time.”
“In other words . . .”
“I’m in love with you too, okay? I was going to tell you in bed before my uterus decided to go all exploding shattered glass on my insides.That’swhy I didn’t want to be friends because, no offense, but being friends sounds unbearable after knowing how earth-shaking your lips feel against mine—and that terrified me. What I feel when you’re around? That’s always terrified me.
“No one else elicits the kind of feelings in me that you do, the desire, the passion, the overwhelming need to smash your face with both my fist and my lips at the same time. How every time you touch me, I run the risk of being putty in your hands. I’ve tried to keep my heart safe from you, but you had it in a death grip before I knew I’d given it to you, and I don’t know that I want it back anymore—because I think, for the first time in maybe ever, I like that I’m in love with you.
“I like that I’m staying up and thinking about how your mouth feels against mine and how you took care of me when I was sick. I love that you wrote me postcards for years, just to make me smile, and I love how you look at me—like you see my faults and think they’re actually these beautiful, magical parts of me.”
“They are. You are.” Liam blinks. “Magic.” He steps us backward, and my back finds the counter.
“What are you doing?” I manage with a shallow breath.
“Checking something,” he says, eyes wide with disbelief. “Don’t run from me this time, Peaches. Keep the wall down.”
“I’m here.” I swallow. “Unguarded.”
Slowly, he raises a finger, dragging it across my collarbone, and my flesh pebbles under his touch. My legs slowly turn to jelly. A warmth pools in the pit of my stomach. My chest rises and falls in a needy rhythm. I’m electric with anticipation for a kiss and damn near exploding. His gaze searches my face, and a tiny “huh,” escapes him, that broad smile deepening to catastrophic proportions.
“This is mine?” He dips his finger, tracing the skin guarding my heart. Want gathers beneath his touch.
“Desperately,” I manage, my eyes fluttering to a close. I’ll never know how he can elicit such a strong reaction with just his finger.
