“Hey,” he says, voice cracking. “Don’t cry, Paige. Don’t cry. I didn’t meaninsteadof you. I wish you were both here together.”
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, sitting upright and plastering on a smile. “I know that’s not what you meant, Liam. I just care about you so much, and I want to make it better however I can. I’m sorry your dad can’t be here to help you through this, but I promise that you have so many people in your life who love you and will do their best.”
His hand moves up my arm, past my shoulder to my cheek. “Do you love me?”
A warning flare shoots off in my stomach. “Please don’t ask me that right now.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re high,” I say, still leaning my face into his hand even so, “and sad, and you might not even remember this conversation, or worse, you might remember it and regret knowing what one of us said to the other.”
He shakes his head, but it’s more of a loll against the pillow, illustrating my point. “I only regret waiting to say it. I love you, Paige. The only thing that made this day bearable was knowing you were coming.”
I feel like I’m hallucinating this moment straight from a dream, but Liam’s touch on me is solid, and his eyes hold mine with an even keel while he speaks. “OfcourseI love you.Obviously,I love you. The only reason I haven’t said it before now is because I—because—” He cuts himself off, tightening his lips. “Well, it’s still kind of a secret.”
Well,thatis a tiny bit alarming in a sea of good feelings and gives me enough pause to remember he’s not in his right mind.
Liam’s fingers thread into my hair. “Do you love me too? I’m pretty sure you do.”
It isn’t arrogance in his voice. Just sureness.
He already knows.
He knows because I constantly look at him, doe-eyed, like he hung the moon. Because he’s heard every one of my songs. Because he’s funnier to me than a standup comedian and because my reactions to his tiny, romantic gestures—like buying a night-light for his dorm room because I hate the absolute dark, and making playlists he thinks I’d like on Spotify—are cause enough for me to blush and kiss him in a frenzy and say things likeyou can’t be real, can you?while my heart beats out loud.
Liam Bishop knows I love him.
“This isn’t the right moment,” I whisper, fighting every instinct to say the words back.
“Funny, that’s what I kept telling myself all month. But Paige”—he widens his eyes—“y’know what? You know what, Bristol? Thereisno right moment. I’m actually pretty sure the only right moment, the only defining, critical point of us, was when I followed you into that bookstore because you were my personal siren, and every moment since is just a waterfall ofthatone. I could say I love you now, or I could’ve said it in my truck bed under the stars, or I could say it in a few days when these drugs wear off, and it’ll all be the same love. The moment you admit it doesn’t mean shit. I promise.”
The gallop of my pulse nearly drowns out my frenetic thoughts. I try to memorize his words, then change my mind and test out erasing them instead.
It isn’t that I doubt right now, in this hospital room, Liam truly loves me too. Butsayingit must be a knee-jerk reaction to missing his dad, not having his mom by his side yet, losing his chosen future. Plus, with all the change headed Liam’s way, there’s a real chance he might regret being tied to me like this at his most vulnerable point. I won’t hold this confession over him, and I won’t feed it. Doing either of those things would be categorically wrong.
I squeeze Liam’s hand. “I’m not trying to avoid answering you,” I whisper. “But I need you to trust me that this isreallynot the right moment. It would feel like I’m taking advantage of you. Can we talk about it another day?”
He sighs loudly and says “fine” with a bit of petulance, which makes my lips kick up a hair.
He keeps watching me. Releases a deep exhale. I fiddle with his blanket.
“I don’t know who I’m supposed to be now,” Liam admits, sounding devastated.
“I’ve never known who I’m supposed to be.”
“I have,” he says. “I’ve known your future all along.”
My head quirks. “Care to illuminate me?”
He smiles loosely, something flashing behind his eyes. “How was the drive?”
“Not too bad.”
“Yeah, it’s not too bad at all. Only two and a half hours if the traffic is light.”
I smirk through my confusion. “I would have driven ten hours to be here.”
He hums. “It’s only seven and a half from Savannah.”
