Whether it be for one night or six months, being with him feels inevitable.
“Do you believe in fate?” Liam asks and leans closer to me.
I mimic the movement, closing another inch of space between us. Unable to admit how similar my thoughts were, I shrug. “Maybe.”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “I’m starting to.”
“What’s changing your mind?” I push closer, a burst of bravery hitting me.
He’s about to answer when the oven alarm chimes. The sharp sound startles both of us and we push apart.
“Oh, uh,” I say, looking around shyly. “I’ll get that.”
He licks his bottom lip like he’s trying to taste me there. “I’m going to take Rosie out, unless you need help?”
“No.” I shake my head. A few minutes of space is exactly what I need right now. “I’ll get everything plated while you do that.”
“Okay.” Without moving, Liam’s eyes are still fixed on my lips. The oven beeps again and he shakes himself out of it. “Okay,” he says again.
This time, he stands and holds a hand out for me. I take it but don’t linger, not wanting to get anymore lost in his orbit.
Chapter Eighteen
Liam
Jesus fuck.
I run my hands through my hair and let out a deep breath. Calypso and I tend to jump into situations without asking a lot of questions, at least when it involves each other. It hasn’t let me down yet but maybe we should have talked about this one.
My hands fall to the mattress next to me—hermattress.
Calypso’s small townhouse is similar to a loft. The bedroom is its own walled off area, but it, along with the adjoined bathroom and closet, are the only spaces upstairs. She didn’t mention that earlier today. Not that I mind; being in the same house as her but notwithher would be far worse than being close to her without touching her.
Every day feels like I’m walking on a tightrope, except the closer I get to showing Calypso that what we have could be more than a fake scheme, the higher off the ground I get. One misstep and I will go tumbling down, losing her from my lack of patience.
Tonight was good, enjoyable. No, actually, it was fuckinggreat. I’m more comfortable here than I am staying at my own mother’s house for a night.
We skipped past any awkwardness, partly thanks to Rosie, who gives Calypso something to begrudgingly comment on when the silence starts to wear on her. I don’t mind it as much. Knowing someone is nearby is enough, especially after the last few months of being alone.
Most of Calypso’s need to fill in the quiet faded as the night passed by. We continued to look through her CDs while we ate dinner, making the floor our own picnic area as Rosie snoozed nearby. Then we cleaned the kitchen together, which she tried to fight me on. I’m offended she thought I’d impose on her space without helping.
That energy quickly morphed into acceptance when my help made it possible for her to watch an extra episode ofThe Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Apparently, she’s rewatching the entire franchise in her free time. I’ve already seen most of it, thanks to my sister Piper, so I pulled out my sketchbook and hunkered down for the night too.
The entire time, I kept asking myself the same question:whenis the right time to push for more with Calypso?
A one-night stand is very fucking different than whatever we’re doing now.
This… This is intimate.
We both know it, even if neither of us has said it.
When Calypso asked if intimacy was the problem between Hannah and me, I said no because I knew she meant the physical kind—It wasn’t totally the truth.
Wanting different things in life is whatendedus, but emotional intimacy was what first started to decay the relationship years before we actually called it quits. Our enjoyment of each other didn’t extend to marveling at the mundane moments of life together.
I’m not going to overlook these firsts with Calypso, especially when our time together is limited. Even if it doesn’t end in December, it’s only a matter of time before Calypso changes her mind or runs from her emotions.
Tonight feels especially monumental, though.
