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“You’re going to make me something to eat?”
“Don’t get too excited,” she warned, rifling through drawers.
I grinned and steepled my hands in front of my mouth in the hopes that my glee wouldn’t be as noticeable.
“Stop grinning,” she said, despite the fact that her back was turned.
“You can’t even see me,” I defended.
“I can feel it,” she countered, opening yet another drawer.
When she found a package of English muffins she broke them apart and stuck the four halves in the toaster.
She then rummaged in the pantry, returning once she’d procured a jar of peanut butter.
She stood on her tiptoes to grab plates from a cabinet and then slathered the English muffin halves with peanut butter. She slid one plate across the counter to me and carried her plate around, pulling out the barstool beside me. She sank into it with a dramatic sigh.
“Liam sucks,” she said without preamble.
I chuckled, picking up one half of the English muffin. “He does…but he worries about you, the same way you worry about him.”
Willow worried her bottom lip between her teeth, not eating her food.
“You want to talk about it?” I prompted, brushing away the fine blonde hair shielding her eyes from me.
She lifted her head slowly, and from the intensity of her gaze I knew she was working through whatever it was she wanted to say.
“Maybe I’m overreacting…”
“But?” I prompted, since there was clearly more she wanted to say.
“But what if I’m not,” she finished forlornly. “I worry about him out here by himself. He has no family here, and the friends he’s made we don’t know them. They could be horrible people.”
“Ollie’s not horrible. Weird,” I added, “but not horrible.”
She giggled at this, but it wasn’t the normal happy sound I was used to from her. It was more forced. Like she knew she should laugh but didn’t want to.
“I don’t want drinking to become an addiction for him, or for that to be a gateway for drugs. Liam…he might come across as crass to most people, but he’s actually really sensitive.”
“You want my honest opinion?” I smoothed my hands down her arms and smiled in satisfaction when she shivered.
“Yes,” she whispered, almost breathless.
“I think you’re worrying about nothing. Liam’s a smart guy, and he’s determined to make it in surfing. He’s not going to do something stupid to screw it up. You have to trust him.”
She inhaled a shaky breath and her head dipped in a reluctant nod. “You’re right. I don’t worry much, but when I do it’s usually over something stupid.”
I held her chin captive so she couldn’t look away. “No, not stupid,” I said adamantly. “You have a big heart and it’s nice that you worry about him, but Liam’s a grown up. He can take care of himself.”
“I know.” She nodded.
Letting the subject drop she picked up her English muffin and took a bite. Peanut butter smeared across her lips and I couldn’t resist clasping my hand behind her neck and pulling her to me. I angled my mouth over hers, kissing away the peanut butter from her lips. She hummed softly and her hands landed on my chest, tugging on my shirt.
“Ahem.”
We jumped apart like we’d been caught doing something far worse than kissing.
Liam stood in the center of the kitchen. We’d been so lost in conversation, and each other, that we hadn’t heard him approaching.
