He laughs. “No worries. My dad will keep the vino flowing, trust me. You gotta have wine with pasta.”
“Still.”
He studies me. “Look, my mom genuinely wants you there. She’s not doing this to be polite. She’s curious about you. Nothing wrong with that.”
The thought that his mom actually wants me there, not out of obligation or pity, but because she wants to know me better makes me both flattered and nervous. “I wish people understood that just because I’m quiet doesn’t mean I’m interesting.”
“You’re interesting to me.” He avoids my gaze as if he hadn’t meant to let that slip out. “Besides, she won’t push if you don’t want to talk. Mom is tactful. Intuitive. She picked up on the fact that Kara isn’t crazy about you.”
Surprised he’d acknowledge that out loud, I laugh. “So you admit it’s true.”
“Not much point in lying about it,” he murmurs grumpily. “She’s not exactly subtle anymore.”
No, Kara isn’t subtle. She doesn’t like me, and while she’s more careful around other people, when it’s just me and her, she doesn’t hide the unfriendly glances or harsher tone. I resent it, not because I care what Kara thinks of me, but because it wears on Liam. It bothers him and he’s not good at hiding it. He tries to run interference between us, but it’s a strain. He’s caught in the middle.
“Kara will be mad when she finds out,” I say quietly. “You sure you want me to go?”
“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “Kara doesn’t dictate who Mom has to dinner. Mom has had her over plenty of times.”
I hesitate, wanting to eat a delicious spaghetti dinner but not wanting to cause any friction between him and Kara.
“Please come, Jude. I want you there.”
I meet his gaze and my chest squeezes. I don’t know how to say no to him. Even if Kara hates me a hundred times more, I’m going to give Liam what he wants.
“Okay,” I say. “But I need to shower first.”
He perks up. “Me too. We’ll clean up and head over in about thirty minutes. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Once we’ve both showered and changed into clean clothes, we get in his SUV. The drive to his parents’ place takes about fifteen minutes. The road winds through dense forest, the headlights catching snowflakes drifting through the dark.
Liam seems lighter than he has in days. I wonder if part of that is because Kara isn’t going to be there tonight, but I keep that observation to myself. If he didn’t want to be with her, he’d break up with her. The fact he’s still dating her tells me all I need to know.
His parents’ house looks cozy when we pull up. Warm, golden light spills from windows, and Christmas lights are strung around the eaves. I can smell woodsmoke from the chimney before we’re even out of the car.
“Looks like Mom made Dad put the lights up already.” Liam chuckles. “She loves Christmas.”
Marco opens the door when we ring the bell, smiling. “Good timing. Your mother just said she thinks the sauce is ready.”
“Can’t wait to eat,” Liam says, stepping inside and pulling off his jacket.
Marco turns to me. “Welcome, Jude. I’m glad you could join us.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
Marco frowns. “I swear I told you to call me, Marco.”
I laugh gruffly. “You did. I’ll try to remember.”
The house smells incredible, filled with the scent of rich tomato sauce, garlic, and freshly baked bread. Liam’s mom is at the stove, stirring an enormous pot with one hand and sipping a glass of wine.
When she sees us she smiles. “You boys finally made it.” She sets her wine down and dips a spoon in the sauce. “Jude, Liam, come here. Taste the sauce and tell me if it needs more basil.”
Liam responds as if he’s used to this ritual, taking the spoon from her and licking the sauce off, but I hold back. I’m not sure I should be trusted with the task. What do I know about pasta sauce?
“I think it’s great just the way it is, Mom,” Liam says.
