The doorbell rings and when I open it, Olive is there in an Elsa nightgown and flip-flops. Her brown curls are jutting out at all sorts of odd angles and she’s sporting a huge grin. The overall effect would be what Lauren and I would call mental-hospital chic, if she were an adult. I almost want to grab my phone so I can send a pic to her, but then I remember. Oh, Lauren, I’m sorry to be the shittiest friend of all time.
Liam stands behind Olive, holding her backpack. "I hope you don't mind me bringing her over in her jammies. I let her stay up late last night, so I had some trouble getting her out of bed. She’s got a change of clothes and her brush in her backpack."
"It's all good. We take it pretty casual here at Abby's Babysitting Service." I say, stepping aside to let them in. "Happy first day of summer break.”
Olive enters the house like a bunny rabbit with three giant hops. "Thanks, Abby!"
"You look excited."
"Yup, I am. Especially because I'm not stuck at Mrs. No Brien's all summer.” She kicks off her flip-flops and drops to all fours, crawling across the rug in the living room to Walt, who immediately switches from fast asleep into play mode.
Looking over at Olive, Liam says, "Mrs. O’Brien. Now, Olive, I want you to run that brush through your hair. And I’ll know if you just smooth it down with your hands, so youreallyhave to do it this time. There’s a change of clothes for you in your bag, as well as a couple of books and your sketching stuff. At some point today, Abby’s going to be busy writing or doing whatever else she needs to do, and I expect you to entertain yourself."
“I’ll just play with Walt.”
Liam follows me into the kitchen, and I pour us each a coffee, trying to keep my distance. The last few days, I’ve noticed a subtle shift—nothing I can name, but an energy of some sort between us. I’m not sure if it’s because we’ve both been reading my saucy books, or if it’s just what happens when two single people of the opposite sex spend too much time together, but something is different, and I want it to go back to the way it was. I think.
And that’s the problem.
"Sweet Jesus," Liam says quietly. "You won't believe this."
“What?” I ask, turning to see him looking at his cell phone.
"Remember when I suggested hiring Colton to help with the roof and you said—”
"—What's the worst that could happen?"
Liam nods and comes to stand beside me at the counter, holding his phone so we can both look at it.Thanks for the e-transfer. I just used it for a one-way ticket to California. I leave tomorrow. Please don’t mention it to anyone. I don’t want my parents to know yet.
"Urgh, that’s not good,” I say.
“Do you think this is my fault?” he asks.
“God, you’re Canadian. You gave him a job. You’re not responsible for how he spent the money.”
He gives me a slightly irritated look, then glances back down at his phone. “Why a one-way ticket?"
“I think because he wants to be a pro gamer. Apparently, there's some mansion down in LA where a bunch of gamers live.”
“June is not going to like this,” he says, shaking his head.
"Well, at least he didn't fall off the roof and bag himself." The two of us snicker quietly.
We’re standing so close together that my shoulder is brushing against his chest. I could move away from him, but I don't. Instead, I tilt my head to get a very close-up look at his eyes. His irises have bright blue rings around them that resemble the calm, warm waters of the Caribbean. They fade to a blue so light, it reminds me of the spot where the water meets the sand in St. Lucia. And the look they are giving me right now is one I haven’t seen in a man’s eyes in so long, I’d forgotten how it can turn you to butter.
I’m dumbstruck for a moment, and it’s almost as though we’ve both stepped over the line in unison for absolutely no reason at all, and there’s a shift in the mood that has taken us both off-guard. I want to ask him if this is because he’s been reading my books, but I also don’t want either of us to notice what’s happening, for fear one of us will come to our senses. Instead, I try to think of something to say, then remember what we were talking about. "Don't tell my parents," I murmur, sounding exactly like a total idiot.
But Liam doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, from this proximity, I’m able to watch as his pupils swallow up most of the sea. A slow smile crosses his face and his eyes flick down to my lips and then back up. "What don't you want your parents to know?"
Warmth spreads through me, starting at my chest and working its way up and down, around and out until I’m sure every inch of my skin is flushed. "I meant it like a question. About the guy with the roof and the plane ticket."
Grinning, Liam moves his face closer to mine. "You mean Colton Nickerson?"
I nod slowly. "Yes, him. It can’t be all bad, can it? I mean, he's an adult, so it just seems a little pathetic that he's running away from home, instead of just being upfront about it."
"You only think that because you've never seen June when she's mad,” he says in a low tone.
I lean toward him, a fraction of an inch closer, so the length of my arm presses up against his hard chest. There are two conversations going on between us now—one using words and one using our bodies. I swallow, then say, “Does she have a really bad temper or something?”
