“Bed already?” I question, walking into my room.
“No, but you were about to fall asleep in your stir-fry so I figured we could watch a movie on your laptop tonight. That way I won’t have to wake you up after you fall asleep,” he explains.
My heart melts that much more at his thoughtfulness. I know he hates having to wake me up. He’s never come out and said it, but it’s written on his face every time he has to do it.
“Come on, get in. Gigi’s already made herself comfortable under the blankets,” he says, holding up the blanket for me to get in next to him. I don’t waste anothermoment and jump into bed with him, happy that I got in the habit of taking a shower right when I get home so I don’t have to waste any of this time with him.
“What are we watching tonight?” I ask.
“Summer suggestedThe Holidate,” he says, surprising me. I never knew him to spend much time with his sister.
“Another rom-com?” I ask. “You know we can watch something else, right?”
“They’re your favorite,” he states simply, before pressing play.
It doesn’t take me long to fall asleep.
I got to sleep in this morning and I feel like a million bucks. Liam was sweet enough to take care of Gigi this morning, answering to her six thirty a.m. call for breakfast. If she’s not fed by six forty-five she starts acting like she hasn’t been fed in days—the drama queen.
Now, I’m sitting in the passenger seat of my SUV. Liam insisted that he’s been cleared to drive—a while ago, apparently. He said, since he was driving, he could pick the music, which I’m not mad about. He put on a band calledWild Riversand I have to say, they will be added to my regular mix of music.
“How did you find this place?” I ask him as we pull into the parking lot of what looks to be a coffee shop calledSip & Paint.
“Google,” is his one-word answer as removes his seat belt. “Don’t move,” he orders before I watch him get out of the car and carefully make his way to my door. Then he does something I never thought he would do: he opens my car door for me.
Is Liam a secret little romantic at heart?
He’s really taking this date seriously, and the thought makes my heart falter. The effort and thought that he put into this date hits me again, making some of the cracks on my heart that he had caused over the years heal.
He looks down at me, then down to the hand I’ve slid into his, giving me a small, shy smile before leading us to the door of the shop we’re going to this morning, where he opens the door for me again. This time, it makes me blush, and makes me wish I would have put more thought into my hair and outfit. I’m wearing simple black-wash jeans, brown Blundstones, and a plain, black long sleeve under my beige shacket with my hair in its usual top knot.
“What’s wrong?” Liams asks, pulling me out of my thoughts as we get in line for a coffee before getting a table.
“Nothing,” I lie, playing with one of the buttons on my jacket.
“I know you’re lying,” he calls me out, pulling at my hand that’s still in his, trying to shake the truth out of me. “Just tell me. You know I won’t judge you.”
“It’s stupid. Don’t worry about it. What are you going to get to drink?” I ask, trying to redirect the conversation.
“Sloane, come on, just tell me. I doubt it was stupid. Nothing you say is ever stupid,” he says, avoiding my obvious attempt at changing the subject.
“I was just thinking about how I could have put something nicer on. You happy?” I ask, frustrated that he couldn’t let it go.
He turns and places himself right in front of me so our chests are almost touching. Squeezing my hand, he leans down so his lips whisper against my ear. “Sloane Callahan,” he says, making me physically shiver, “you are the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. Nothing affects me more than how comfortable you are with me. It’s a constant fight to keep my eyes and hands to myself. The way you look wearing a baggy sweatshirt and leggings with your hair looking like you just got freshly fucked should be illegal. Especially when you walk around in my sweatshirt. Don’t even get me started on how your ass looks in a pair of jeans like you have on right now. Trust me when I say that you look gorgeous no matter what. But if it really bothers you, next time I’ll take you out somewhere so you can wear those heels and the soft, sexy little sweater dress thing you wore to go out with that douchebag.”
Speechless, all I can do is nod my head yes.
“We good now?” he asks.
“Yes,” I manage to squeak out.
“Good,” he says firmly, taking his spot beside me again. “And I’m thinking of getting a vanilla latte.”
“What?” I ask, looking over at him, confused.
“To drink. You asked me what I was thinking of getting to drink,” he says with a cocky smirk, knowing his little speech distracted me.
“Oh yeah, I’ll have one too,” I answered half-heartedly, still in a daze from what he said. I know he has a sinfully dirty mouth in bed—I remember our one afternoon together well enough. I’ve played it over in my mind more than once.
