“I was a dork. I was in all the plays and musicals and had braces until my junior year. My hair was even frizzier than it is now, and when I was a senior, a few boys actually asked me if I was a transfer student. I’m assuming because my boobs had finally arrived and I was suddenly on their radar.” Liam smiles and I subconsciously inch closer. “What about you?” I ask.
“I was tall. Gangly. I was on the track team, and I played the clarinet.”
“Did you truly? I never would have guessed that you played a musical instrument.”
“I haven’t played it in ages,” he says, “but I was quite good. If I knew you back then, I would have played for you over the phone to win you over.”
The inner teenage version of me squeals with delight at the idea. I can say with complete certainty that my former drama-nerd self would have been entirely obsessed with band-geek, track-running Liam. And if he ever did call me to make sweet clarinet love to me over the phone, I absolutely would have died.
“Yeah, that probably would have worked,” I tell him. Understatement of the century.
“Maybe I’ll have to pick it up again, then.”
“You should. It might do you some good to have a hobby.”
“But then I wouldn’t have the time to squire you about town as I’ve been doing.”
“Well, luckily, I won’t be here very long.”
A silence falls over both of us then, and I wish I hadn’t said anything. I nuzzle into my own pillow and throw on a comforting smile.
“Regardless, it’s nice to know that if I’m ever having a bad day from now on, I can call you up and request a solo performance. Do you still have your clarinet?”
“I think it’s in a closet somewhere. Or maybe my mom has it back home in the attic. If you’re going to expect spontaneous concerts, I really will have to start it up again in earnest.”
“No pressure, but you should definitely prepare yourself. Which song did you play the best?”
“‘Pretty Woman,’” he says with a guilty grin.
“You little flirt. Just how many girls did you seduce with your sultry woodwind routine?”
He laughs to himself and rolls over away from me. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m revealing all my tricks too early.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I tease, twisting around myself. A minute later, I’m still smiling, and I push up on my arms just enough to turn my head so I can look at Liam’s back. “I’m really glad you stayed,” I tell him.
He rolls over and looks at me with tired but sweet eyes. “Me too,” he answers.
I can’t help myself. I nudge myself forward until I’m close enough to give him a quick kiss. He seems happy to receive it and doesn’t push for anything further as I quickly move back to my side of the bed.
“Good night,” I chirp as I drop down onto my pillow.
“Good night, Winnie. I’d say don’t let the bedbugs bite, but if they did, I’m sure you would just punch them in the jugular.”
I smile one more time as I roll away again, pulling the blankets up around me and settling into a perfectly comfortable position. “It’s amazing.” I sigh. “Just a week and half and you already know me so well.”
12
“Guess what, guess what, guess what?”
Roshni bounces over to me the second Ollie and I enter the penthouse door, seemingly on her twelfth cup of coffee as she lands at my side. Her outside excitement is a fair representation of my current mood, still basking in the leftover butterflies from my fun but innocent night with Liam and a particularly idyllic morning walk with Ollie. Cue the musical montage of me loving London set to an upbeat ’90s classic! I wouldn’t say I’m set on any specific song, but if it’s not “I’m Every Woman” by Whitney Houston, I will have a meltdown of epic proportions.
“I have no idea,” I soon tell Roshni. “But I’m pretty positive that I’m about to be hit with a whole lot of awesome.”
“Indeed, you are. Awesomeness all over your face.”
“That sounded weird.”
“Yes, it did,” she agrees.
