“Seriously? You?”
“Why not me?”
“I just don’t picture you eating ice cream out of the tub and quoting John Cusack.”
“It’s not about the lines,” he said. “It’s about Lloyd deciding to act even though he doesn’t have leverage. No status, no certainty. Everyone thinks he’s ridiculous, and he knows it. But he doesn’t care.”
I blinked. His gaze caught mine for a beat too long.
“So,” I said, “you’re telling me you admire clueless men making grand gestures?”
He laughed. “People always make that mistake aboutSay Anything. The guy makes this big statement with the boombox, but everything still blows up. That’s the point.”
“That’s not how I remembered it.”
“Most people remember the image, not what comes after.”He paused. “He can’t mend it all. He just… stays. They don’t know what’s going to happen, but they decide that’s okay.”
He held my eyes for a few moments, then turned his head and looked out over the view. Not what I was expecting from Liam. My fork hovered over the salad bowl, forgotten.
“You didn’t confirm about the ice-cream-out-of-the-tub thing, though,” I said after a couple of seconds. “Do you? And if you do, please say Häagen-Dazs and not Ben and Jerry’s.”
He laughed. “Häagen-Dazs every time. Sometimes I eat too much, though, so I have to—”
He looked at me, like he wasn’t sure he should continue.
“What?”
“Well …”
“Is it Häagen-Dazsblood-of-the-innocentsflavor or something?”
“No.” He laughed sheepishly. “I just… I get cold when I eat a lot, so I, ah—I wear a Snuggie.”
“ASnuggie?” A laugh popped out of me, and I clapped a hand over my mouth.
“Yes. They’re… warm. And my couch is leather, so… it’s better.”
Oh my God. How in the hell was Liam Roth, corporate cyborg, into Snuggies and romcoms?
Could he really be that…cute?
No.
I was never going to be able to process this. I had to see it for myself.
“Show me.”
“What? No!”
“Liam. This is exactly the sort of thing I need to know to convince people I’m your girlfriend.”
“The last thing I want you doing is telling Hugo—or anyone else, for that matter—that I like to wear a Snuggie.”
“Liam.” I leaned forward, my voice soft. “Come on. If you show me, I won’t tell anyone. But if you don’t… well, I’ll be obsessed about it. It’ll be on my mind. I can’t promise it won’t pop out accidentally.” I batted my eyelashes at him theatrically. “What is it, like a tweed one? Does it have the von Roth family crest on it?”
“No.” He huffed. “It’s not tweed.”
“So? Why can’t I see it?”
