CHAPTER TWELVE
Mae greets me at the door like an old friend, exclaiming over the gifts I brought. Despite telling me not to bring anything, I felt weird showing up empty handed, so I scooped up the fancy box of chocolates Natalie sent in her latest care package and took a bottle of wine from the stash I’ve been accumulating. I’ve never been much of a drinker—my personal trainer and nutritionist have always hammered in how alcohol is full of empty calories—but I’ve been enjoying a glass or two during my quiet, wintery nights alone.
As Mae leads me into the house, my eyes ping pong around, eager to take everything in. There are books, framed photos, and travel souvenirs everywhere, and yet somehow it manages to look homey rather than cluttered. We pause in the living room, where Rex is sprawled on the floor, surrounded by a pile of action figures. A large TV sits next to a beautifully-decorated Christmas tree; I recognizeThor: Ragnarokon the screen since Rex and I watched it together earlier in the week.
Mae clears her throat and Rex whips around, his face lighting up when he sees me. Before coming to Honeywell, the only people who ever seemed genuinely excited to see me were fans. Rex charges over and throws himself against me, hugging me tight. Despite seeing both Mae and Rex several times this week, they’ve greeted me tonight like I’m one of the most important people in the world. Not going to lie, I could get used to this feeling.
Mae tells me to join Rex while she finishes making dinner. Next thing I know, I’m sitting on the living room floor with a Thor figure in one hand and Loki in the other, while Rex narrates the battle scene that’s about to commence. I do my best to keep up; thankfully, he keeps a running commentary, complete with action sounds and what Thor and Loki should be saying. Good thing I’m used to taking direction.
The battle comes to a sudden halt as Rex’s attention shifts to whatever is happening on the TV screen. He abandons his action figures and jumps up onto the couch, his eyes now glued to the screen. I chuckle to myself and then stop almost immediately as awareness prickles along my skin. I’ve clearly been watching too many sci-fi and action movies when my first thought is that Rex would say my Spidey senses were tingling or I’d noticed a disturbance in the Force.
I turn, somehow simultaneously surprised and yetnotto find Liam leaning in the doorway. A slow smile spreads over his face, making my heart go haywire. I mentally add Liam to the list of ‘People Who Are Happy to See Me’. It’s the strangest, most wonderful feeling.
Rex doesn’t seem to notice his uncle’s arrival, and he doesn’t so much as glance in my direction when I get to my feet. “You’d think he’d never seen this movie before, even though we just watched it two days ago,” I say when I join Liam.
“And he watched it with me last weekend,” he says, his eyes on Rex as he shakes his head fondly. His smile turns softer and more intimate when he aims it in my direction. He takes a small step closer and gently tugs on the sleeve of my sweater. “Hi.”
“Hi. I didn’t know you were coming over.”
“Nathan and I finished work early. I called Mae to tell her I’d pick up Rex, and she insisted we come for dinner.” His grin turns lopsided, eyes glinting with humor. “Is it okay that I’m here?”
“Of course,” I say quickly. “This isyourfamily.”
“Yours too now,” he says, his teasing tone replaced by earnestness. He peers over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps; Nathan must have still been taking off his coat and boots because he passes by now, shooting me a small smile and a wave. When he’s gone, Liam says, “Didn’t see your car in the driveway.”
“I walked over.” I nearly laugh when his eyebrows wing up over wide eyes. “It’s only a few blocks, and it’s a beautiful night. No snow in the forecast. I needed the fresh air and exercise after spending so much time sitting in front of the TV this week.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” His voice is so low, I have to lean in to hear him. When I feel his warm breath on my face, I wonder if that was his intent. “I’ve missed seeing you this week. I hope we get a chance to talk tonight.”
The air between us is charged. This seemingly simple moment actually feels monumental. I can continue to dance around my attraction to Liam—maybe point out that he shouldn’t tell me he misses me or stand so close, reiterate that we can only be friends—but why deny it? What’s the point? I think about Dr. Gupta telling me now’s my time to step into my power and my sexuality. She said I could decide to be the type of person who has one-night stands, but why restrict myself when it’s obvious Liam wants more? As long as he knows ‘more’ is limited to our bodies and not our hearts.
“We’ll make sure we do,” I say, smiling when his eyes widen again and then darken slightly.
Movement catches in the corner of my eye. I reluctantly pry my gaze from Liam to watch Nathan stroll down the hall toward us. “Mae says the food’s almost ready. I’m going upstairs to get Murph.”
I ask where the bathroom is so I can freshen up before dinner and Nathan offers to show me the way. My impression of Nathan being a man of few words is confirmed when he doesn’t say anything on the way upstairs. It’s actually strangely refreshing; I’m so used to people who talk non-stop, some of them simply for the sake of talking. At first, I worried Nathan didn’t like me, but something tells me he’s just a quiet person who saves his words for the things that matter. The way he puts his hand lightly on my shoulder as he leaves me outside the bathroom door reassures me.
When I exit the bathroom a few minutes later, the sound of voices draws me down the hall. I hear Nathan’s even tones, followed by an Irish-accented voice saying, “Thank you, my boy. I’ll be down in a minute. Tell the missus not to worry.”
“That’s a joke, right?” Nathan says. “Mae? Not worry?”
I smile at Mr. Murphy’s answering laugh and step away from the door to head downstairs. His laughter soon turns into a drawn-out cough that halts me in my tracks. In the silence that follows, I hover outside the door, unsure what to do until Mr. Murphy calls, “Is that our new addition then? One Miss Josslyn Hazelwood?”
I move into the doorway, hoping I don’t look too guilty for being caught lurking. Mr. Murphy is sitting at an enormous desk in the center of the room. I saw pictures of him downstairs—tall, broad, almost-black hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a seemingly permanent smile. After hearing his body-wracking coughs, I expected a man who appeared small, frail, and sick looking; despite his wispy salt-and-pepper post-chemo hair and thin face, his eyes still hold that sparkle I saw in all his photos.
Nathan stands behind him, his hand on the older man’s back. His concerned expression turns into a gentle smile when our eyes meet, and he tilts his head to indicate I should come into the room.
“Murph, this is Joss,” Nathan says, patting Mr. Murphy’s back and rounding the desk to join me. “Joss, this is Seamus Murphy.”
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mr. Murphy.” I remain on the far side of the desk, waiting for a cue from him about physical touch. When my mom was sick, she refused handshakes and most other forms of contact with strangers due to her weakened immune system.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear, and you’re to call me Seamus. Or Murph. Come give us a hug then. Mae told me you’re growing used to our affectionate ways.” He grins at me, his eyes practically twinkling with mischief. His leather desk chair rolls back and he holds out his arms. I stride around the desk and lean in to hug him, surprised by the strength of his embrace.
When he releases me, he points at Nathan, who’s now over by the door. “Nice try, thinking you could just slip out, boyo.”
Nathan gives a casual shrug. “Thought I’d give you two a few minutes alone to get acquainted.”
While the two of them banter back and forth, their voices and faces full of humor and affection, I peer around Mr. Murphy’s office. The huge room is much the same as the rest of the house, with every inch covered in books, photos, paintings, maps, and souvenirs. The far side of the room has a cozy seating area in front of a wall-to-wall bookcase that nearly makes me drool. I spot a toy box on one of the bottom shelves, and picture Rex in here playing quietly while Mr. Murphy writes. I bet Nathan and Liam, along with the Murphys’ daughter Fiona did the same when they were little. The thought causes a pang in my heart that I can’t quite explain.
