What should have been a ten-minute walk to Eli’s apartment takes twenty. In that time, I manage a good forty versions of “I’m so sorry I sucked and ruined our day,” to which Eli responds with his own variations of “It’s fine, shut up,” and “No seriously, stop apologizing. It’s wicked annoying, and I don’t care about the damn picnic.”
Eli calls Liam at some point, who’s home working on his thesis project. He meets us outside, and my racing heart halts. I’ve seen many versions of Liam in the past few weeks, Henley-clad, tailored suits, collared shirts, Gene Kelly, and shirtless gray sweatpants, but this—this is a blast from the past. Standing in front of me in his gray sweats, an old worn-out Patriots crewneck sweatshirt, and a backward baseball cap, is the man I had known for so many years, waiting to carry me into his apartment.
You love himcuts through every voice and cry of agony once more. It’s equally terrifying and thrilling to feel this way because I don’t know what’s going to come next, and in the past, the unknown has been a terrible, desolate wasteland of broken dreams and crushed tomorrows. But today, even with the pain, I’m seeing life in technicolor, so I’ll take the chance and see where this goes.
Liam and Eli’s apartment building is thankfully fancy enough to house a tiny two-person elevator. It’s a feature I haven’t taken advantage of yet, but I am grateful to do so now. Eli follows us up, taking the stairs. I rest my head on Liam’s shoulder and wrap my arms around him while we gradually rise from the ground. He rubs slow circles on my back. My legs weaken with the pain, but he stays firm and steady. He stays my rock.
“I’m so sorry I’m interrupting your work time,” I whisper.
He lays a soft kiss on the top of my head as the elevator doors slide open. “Don’t worry about it.”
A mug of steaming hot tea already sits on the coffee table, waiting for me as Liam settles me onto the couch before walking to the kitchen and grabbing something from the microwave.
“You have your painkillers?” he asks, bringing over a lavender-scented pouch.
“I always have a few in my purse.”
Eli, who’s pacing, not used to my flares, grabs my purse, hollering, “I’ll get them.”
Liam hands me a pouch with a peach and lemon printed fabric covering the outside. Lavender swirls around us in a force reserved for a heat pack’s first use as if the pattern wasn’t enough to suggest he purchased this specifically for me. “You got me a heat pack?”
Red tinges Liam’s cheeks with gorgeous color. “I saw someone selling them at the market this morning and thought it’d be good to have here. Didn’t expect to use it so soon.” He stuffs a hand in his pocket and shrugs.
“Liam—I—” My gaze oscillates between the heat pack and him, amazed at how thoughtful he is. My toes curl with the threat of an “I love you.” Sure, we’ve told each other we’re in love, but we haven’t just casually dropped an “I love you.” And I don’t know if that’s a good idea with all the things I need to straighten in my head. Besides, there are a bunch of muscles curling inside, too, and I can’t handle any of this properly.
“You can pretend I got it for an old shoulder injury if you need to.” His lips tip up into a small smile, and he rotates his shoulder. “I just need to save some things on the computer, and then I’ll come back and keep you company. You need anything else?”
I shake my head. “Please keep working.” I place the heating pack where the significant pain is coming from, and it calms it a bit. “I didn’t mean to bother you when you have things to do. I’m fine, honest.”
“You aren’t bothering me, Peaches,” he hollers from the table. “Believe me, I’d rather spend time with you than this.”
“A-ha!” Eli triumphantly plucks a pill bottle from my purse and hands it to me. Smiling, he dips close to my ear. “You hear that. You aren’t a bother. He’d rather spend time with you.”
I subtly swat at him. “I’ve been in this house for five minutes, and he’s already rearranging his day, making me tea, and purchasing something for my ailment. He wouldn’t have to do that with anyone else. How is that fair to him?”
“But he hasn’t been in love with anyone else since he was five,” Eli whispers back.
“What if I’m not interested in starting something uber serious when you’re both going back to New England in a few days. You ever think of that?”
“Oh, come on, Evie. You’re not starting anything. You’re just ending the longest game of foreplay I’ve ever seen.” He smirks, satisfied that I’m so taken aback that I have nothing to say for once, and then fakes a yawn. “That walk tuckered me out. I’m going to go nap if you think you got everything covered here.” He glances at Liam. “She could use a nap too.”
Liam furrows his brow at me crunched on the couch. “Maybe we should move you into the bedroom, Peaches.”
I glare at Eli but nod.
Liam settles me into bed, pulling the sheets over my shoulder as the cold settles in. “You want company?” he whispers.
“No, I want you to get your work done so you aren’t up late tonight.” I faintly smile, wincing through another twist.
“What if I nap with you now?”
I chew on my bottom lip, my guilty conscience at war with the part of me that loves snuggling. “I guess I can’t argue with that logic.”
He climbs into bed and wraps an arm around me, pulling me tighter to him. His grounding touch anchors me, keeping me safe from the rocky waters threatening to capsize me.
Closing my eyes, I breathe through the pain. “I swear I’m fun sometimes and do other things than just lay in various beds and couches.”
Recently? Not so much, but I remember doing other things once.
