"I'm a patient man," he said, a sparkle of good humor in his eyes. "I can wait."
My heartbeat thumped heavily in my chest. He'd said those words before, and he'd proven them true. I'd put Liam through a lot of shit to get to this point.
I cleared my throat and took the spatula from his hand, taking over breakfast duties.
"So where are we going?" I asked.
"It's a secret."
"And are you that type of person?" I asked.
"What type?"
"The type who likes to keep secrets?"
His expression turned oddly pained. He turned and opened the fridge door.
"No," he said, his voice tight. "I hate secrets."
I'd been joking, but Liam had reacted strongly. I had to wonder how serious he was being.
"Did somebody throw you a surprise birthday party that backfired spectacularly?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.
He poked his head out from the fridge, looking confused.
"To hate secrets that much," I clarified.
His expression eased, until a small smile was playing on his lips.
"Nothing like that," he said. "I just don't like having things kept from me, that's all."
"Understandable," I said.
But the smallest hint of worry started to nag at me. I was keeping something from Liam. He didn't know about Harper. He didn't know what happened.
But was it really that important for Liam to know? My past was just that — the past. It had nothing to do with me and Liam right here and now.
"Bacon's ready," I announced.
We grabbed our coffee and food and perched ourselves on two bar stools at the counter.
"Sorry I don't have a proper kitchen table," I said.
"No worries." Liam looked around, taking in the rest of the apartment. "You've managed to do a lot with a small space."
"I read a lot of interior decorating magazines."
"Do you really?"
"No."
We shared a laugh.
As I sipped on my coffee, Liam nodded to one of my many bookshelves.
"Who's your favorite author?" he asked.
I had to think about it. "I guess I like Jane Austen the most."
