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“I need to…” I gesture at the oven.
“Of course. Do I have time to get my bag now or shall I wait until after dinner?”
“Get it now,” I tell him, because I need it settled. He gives me the sweetest of smiles before he heads out to get it.
And a few minutes later we’re sitting at my kitchen table, his case standing sentry in the hallway like a soldier ready for action. I cut my chicken, breathing a sigh of relief when I see it’s cooked through, because when he cooked for me it was perfect.
“I spoke to your mom earlier,” I tell him when I’ve swallowed a mouthful.
“I know.”
“How?” I ask. “It was like twenty minutes ago.”
“I’m on a group chat with her and my brothers. She’s throwing Eli out of his cabin and making him share with Holden for the night of the party so you’ll have somewhere to stay.”
My eyes widen. “Oh no.”
“It’s fine. Eli’s used to sleeping wherever he’s told. He travels a lot.”
“I guess he does.” I’ve spoken to Eli a few times. He seems very chill. “But I can’t let him lose his cabin.”
“I could tell them you’ll stay in mine,” he says, sliding a potato into his mouth.
“Nooo.”
He tips his head to the side. “Why not?”
“Because then they’ll know about us.”
His lips curls. “I like it when you say us.”
“You know what I mean,” I tell him, trying not to smile. He makes it impossible to frown when he’s around.
He puts his fork down on his plate and lifts his head. “Why wouldn’t you want them to know about us?”
“Because I don’t know whatusis,” I tell him. “And maybe it’s too early for there to be an us at all.”
His eyes don’t leave mine. “There is an us. I think the past few weeks have proven that.”
“But what if you decide you only want one night after all?” I ask him. “What if we’re not sexually compatible?” My cheeks are burning. I’m overthinking but that’s just my thing.
“I have no fucking doubt we’re sexually compatible, Sophie.” His stare is dark and I swallow hard, remembering how easily he can arouse me. “What are you really afraid of?” he asks.
“You,” I say simply. “I’m afraid of falling for you and getting hurt.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” He nods approvingly. And damn if I don’t feel that little thrill again. I have no idea why I want his approval so much. “Okay then, there’s only one option.”
“What?” I ask, bemused.
“We’ll have to get married.”
I start to laugh, only trailing off when I realize he isn’t laughing, too. Wait, is he serious? He can’t be. He’s the playboy, the lothario, the one-night-only man.
“You can’t go around proposing just because you need to prove something,” I tell him. I shift in my chair. “That’s just…” I trail off because I don’t even have the words for it. “You just can’t.”
He doesn’t look embarrassed. Or regretful. Just amused. “Isn’t that what marriage is? Proving to the world that you’re together? If people were just proving it to themselves they wouldn’t have the lavish ceremony or the dinner and party. It’s all about showing the world that you’re taken.”
“Liam, we haven’t even slept together. You can’t start talking about commitment.”
