“That was honestly so good though. Like, passionate and sexy. But also really romantic too,” he says. “It’s weird. I never really thought people back then wrote such sexy stuff.”
“You think sexy stuff only exists in modern times?”
He flashes that charming grin. “I just never really thought about it. Honestly, part of me thinks it’s weird. All these people in top hats and hoop skirts and whatever else they wore back then writing these freaky sexy poems. Just think of what they got up to in the bedroom.”
I burst out laughing again. “You think about the most random stuff.”
He shrugs, that handsome smile in place. “I’m a pretty random guy sometimes. It’s part of my charm.”
“Your brother is gonna be impressed when he finds out that you’ve been researching poetry to write your best man speech.”
Liam glances at the ground as he rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know about that.” That gleam in his eye fades as he takes a sip of his drink. “This kind of stuff is easy for him. He probably wouldn’t be that impressed that I read a few poems.”
I notice how Liam’s shoulders hunch slightly as he talks himself down.
His eyes are shy as he looks at me. “Anyway, thanks for sending me all this stuff. And being patient enough to talk to me about it. I know it must be kind of a drag.”
I frown at him, confused. “What do you mean?”
He doesn’t say anything. He just looks off to the side and shakes his head.
“Liam, talking to you about poetry isn’t a drag. At all. It’s really fun.”
He turns to me. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Why would you think I didn’t enjoy it?”
He leans his hip against the island counter. “Because you’re really smart. You teach this stuff for a living. You’ve read more books in a year than I’ve read in my entire life. I’m kind of a dumbass. I didn’t think you’d actually enjoy talking about this with me.”
I still at the rawness in his words, at how insecure he sounds. I’ve never seen Liam vulnerable like this. He’s always his joking, cocky self.
My chest aches. Has he always thought this about himself?
“You’re not a dumbass, Liam. You’re smart.”
He lets out a weak chuckle. “I’m really not.”
I step closer to him. “You are. Everything you said about those poems was so insightful.”
He flashes a sad smile. “Thanks. Probably because you’re a really good teacher and picked out stuff for me to read that you knew I’d like.”
“Sure, but we’re all like that. We all perform better when we’re studying things we actually like.”
He nods, but I can tell he doesn’t believe me.
The need to comfort him washes over me. I hate seeing him beat himself up like this.
“I’m terrible at math. I’ve always hated it,” I say. “I took one math class my entire time in college. It wasn’t even that hard. It was the intro class that all students had to take. I got a C+.”
Liam blinks at me, completely unfazed. “I failed almost every single class I took in college, Kendall.”
I stare at him. “What?”
“I should have failed out of college. I didn’t pass any of the classes I took.”
“Liam, what are you talking about? You graduated, just like I did.”
“Not like you did. Not even close.”
