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“I’m sorry,” he continues. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
Right now, I should be pissed. That coffee was an extra boost of some much-need caffeine after a mostly sleepless night. But instead, I’m thinkingLiam Stevens is kind of…hot?Not even kind of—he is.
Once I realized it was him at the police station, I avoided looking at him. I thought he might recognize me, and I didn’t want to deal with the rivalry on top of everything else that night. I cheered along the sidelines—against him—for four years.
During those games, he was mostly wearing a helmet, not to mention a pissed-off expression.
He looks different now, casually dressed in a pair of athletic shorts, a cotton t-shirt, and a ball cap. He’s in good shape from football, not overly built, but definitely muscular. I can attest to the chest I just bounced off being hard as stone. And his eyes are green. A brilliant, emerald shade that lightens when he looks at me, shaded by the brim of his hat.
“Let me buy you a new one,” Liam offers, appearing oblivious to the fact I’m checking him out.
I finally find words. If he recognizes me from the Fayetteville police station last week, he’s not letting on to it. “You don’t need to do that.”
“I want to. It was my fault.” He glances down at the mess on the sidewalk that used to be my drink.
I shrug. “Okay. Fine.”
We head back toward the coffee shop, side by side. “I’m Liam,” he offers after a few steps.
“I know.”
He glances over, eyes squinting like he’s trying to place me. Maybe he is. “You do?”
“I grew up in Alleghany,” I tell him.
“Oh.” He digests that piece of information for a few seconds. “And you followed football?” I can’t quite identify the note in his voice. Cautious. Embarrassed, maybe? He knows it means I know his record against my town—oh for four.
“Cheer captain,” I admit, then glance over so I can register his reaction.
We’ve reached the entrance to the coffee shop, but Liam doesn’t reach for the door handle right away. He’s studying me like you examine a wild animal: wary and on guard.
Then, he says the last thing I’m expecting. “You’re welcome.”
I raise both eyebrows. “For what?”
Liam opens the door and nods for me to go ahead, giving me a smirk that’s at odds with the thoughtful gesture. There’s an edge brewing beneath his calm exterior. “You had a lot to cheer for.”
I tilt my head, studying him. Not counting the few words we exchanged in the police station—which I don’t—this is the first time I’ve talked to Glenmont’s quarterback. “You always gave it your all. Wes just—”
I realize bringing Wes up is a bad idea after I’ve already said his name. Liam wasn’t an open book before, but his face immediately shutters blank. “Wes, huh?” He shakes his head and scoffs.
“I just meant…” My voice trails because I don’t know what I meant. I’ve never interacted with anyone from Glenmont, really. And I was consumed with the drama known as my mother in the police station. I registered he was there, but I didn’t really absorb it.
I don’t think Liam Stevens knows how well-known he is in Alleghany. Yeah, he lost. But he also invigorated the entire town. He didn’t make it easy for Wes. Everyone knew how hard he trained. How much he wanted it.
And there were moments, during every time we played against Glenmont, when I’d see him. Watch him talking to his father—Glenmont’s coach. See his teammates look at him with the devotion of soldiers following a general into battle.
Sophomore year, he sat on the bench, after Alleghany won. Just sat there, all by himself.
That’s the thing about sports—you win or you lose. There’s no happy medium. No consolation prize.
I wanted Alleghany to win. But looking at Liam—then, now—I think about what losing is like.
Liam pulls out his wallet and passes me a five-dollar bill. “This should cover it.”
He’s out the door before I can say anything else.
And for once, I’m not sure what I would.
