“It’s an intervention,” Andy offers, getting up from her bar stool, and I pinch my temples. “Liv is getting over the latest asshole to make her feel like she’s not worthy of love.”
“Andy,” I snap. I don’t really need to air all my dirty laundry to two virtual strangers. “It’s not that,” I correct, following the group to a booth in the back. “I just met someone, and it turns out we weren’t on the same page. No big deal.”
“That guy, Owen?” Liam asks as we scoot around into the booth. “We met him in the building earlier.”
“Yeah,” Cal agrees, “Seemed like a decent guy, friends with Eli upstairs, right? But he’s an asshole?”
“He’s not an asshole,” I sigh, unsure how to explain it. “It’s just…complicated.”
“It usually is,” Liam says, lifting his beer bottle in a toast.
“So,” Andy starts, folding her hands under her chin and resting her elbows on the table. “They agreed to fake date, because Liv’s mom really is an asshole. But then it seemed like maybe the feelings weren’t fake after all, so they decided to try a real date, but then maybe the feelings were fake?”Andy ends her summary sounding as confused as I feel. “He also filled her out like an application.”
Liam chokes on a sip of beer, and I bury my face in my hands.
“So you’re not sure if this was a fake date, a one-night stand—”
“Two!” Andy adds helpfully.
“—a two-night stand or something more?” Cal asks, clearly more used to Andy’s antics than poor Liam.
“Basically.”
“Did you ask him?”
“Ask him what?” I stare at Cal incredulously.
“If he was just helping you out, having a good time, or likes you for real?”
“Like, ‘Hey, were we just hooking up, or do you want something more?’”
“Um,” Cal nods, “Yeah, I mean, then you know, right?”
“Straight shooter,” Andy nods, “I like your thinking, Cal. Why beat around the bush when you could just jump in it?”
“I don’t—” Liam looks at her quizzically, “—get that analogy?”
“Yeah, but what if he thinks I was a mistake?” I ask no one in particular.
“Liv has a bit of past relationship baggage,” she stage whispers to the guys.
Liam lifts his beer bottle again. “Don’t we all?”
“I just don’t want to be some girl he thinks he can fix. I don’t want to go down that path again. I’m just not sure it’s worth it to try.”
Liam leans back, beer bottle resting against his knee. “I don’t wanna be that guy who talks in sports metaphors about love,” he says with a self-deprecating grin. “But look—I’ve played baseball my whole life. You know what makes a great hitter? Failing seven out of ten times. And still showing up at the plate like you’ve got a shot. It’s not aboutgetting it right every time. It’s about showing up, swinging anyway.” He pauses, then adds, a little quieter, “People only remember the home runs, you know? Not all the strikeouts it took to get there.”
Cal looks at him with something that looks like a cross between pity and admiration, and I know there is a story there, but I’m too caught up in my misery to ask for details. I stare into the bottom of my empty bourbon glass like it might hold the answers.
“You don’t have to figure it all out tonight,” Cal says gently.
“Sometimes the best thing you can do is stop, take a breath, and see if the path’s still waiting for you in the morning. If it is…then it’s real,” Liam adds. His voice is quiet, but something in it feels knowing. Like maybe he’s learned that the hard way.
Chapter 16
Owen
I stare at the flight board in the American terminal at DFW. My connecting flight home to Santa Barbara, which was already delayed by two hours, was now canceled.
