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“What’re you doing here?” I ask, puzzled by his appearance in this place that I know like the back of my hand.
It doesn’t fit that this rugged farmer is sitting up on stage with me, not that I don’t like it.
“I was bringing some pizza by at my mom’s suggestion. She knew tonight was Cassandra’s later night, and Wilson is always down for pizza. And, well, I figured you’d be here, and I always want to see you.”
His admission is sweet, almost bashful, and my heart swoons like it’s wearing rose-colored glasses.
“Your voice is beautiful. I didn’t realize you could sing like that.” Liam’s eyes search mine as if he’s seeing me clearly for the first time.
“There is a lot we don’t know about each other.” I should take my hand out of his, but I don’t.
“Not from lack of trying on my part,” he says quietly, and it’s not to guilt me but to state a fact. “Although, I mean, seeing someone naked technically means you know more about them than certain people.”
That makes me laugh in a way I need in this tense moment. “I guess you’re technically correct.”
Liam slides the plate of pizza he carried in with him onto the piano keys, and I should yell at him, but the scent coming from the food is too heavenly.
“Have dinner with me?” His eyebrow shoots up like he means more than his words convey.
Shrugging, because I could eat, and it’s right here, I pick up a slice. “Cheers?”
He copies the gesture and we both take a slice without breaking eye contact.
“Finally talked you into a date.” That devilish smirk captures his face, which is too gorgeous for any one man to possess.
“Actually, I injured myself, I’m hungry, and you happened to show up. Didn’t have to work too hard for that one.” This little banter is foreign and a welcome change from our usual charged interactions.
“Just twelve years’ worth of trying, but who’s counting?” He grins, but that puts a sober moment over the interaction.
We chew in silence for a few minutes, trading looks when our eyes meet and surveying the empty theater.
“Thank you for bringing this. You didn’t have to, but this was nice,” I say when I polish off my slice.
Liam looks down at the piano keys and then back up at me. “Our interactions haven’t been all that traditional. Or well, they haven’t followed a traditional pattern. You know how I feel about you, or how I want to proceed. And I understand your reservations, or I did when it was still inappropriate for us to be together. But we both have admitted we feel this spark, and I sincerely hope you’ll look past anything you might have been taught about relationships or expectations and see that this could really be something.”
The moment he says that, it’s like my brain starts to itch. There is no way Liam would know my upbringing, so someone must have tipped him off.
“Have you thought about the fact I just might not want to date you? That I’m not interested?” I question this as a defense mechanism.
He shakes his arrogant, beautiful head. “Come off it, Gabrielle. You know we’re combustible in the sack, I think you’re gorgeous and you can’t keep away from me. There is chemistry, at the very least. But you’re scared, and I understand that. I’d love to know more about why and try to convince you to change your mind. I come from a family of people who go after what they want with nothing holding them back. I grew up with parents who encouraged our dreams and wanted us to have adventures to figure out who we are. Perhaps it’s why we all ended up back in the nest, because growing up here was so liberating in its own way. I know I might be an outlier when it comes to families and support, so I realize me putting pressure on you might only send you running further.”
Inside, I swear my heart is cracking open. Or maybe, it’s cracking the chains I’ve put around it for decades. Liam is the first and only man to look me in the eye and tell me he understands why I’m scared. That he’ll give me the space to figure my head out while still wanting to try at us being a something.
“All I want is to see you happy. To get to know you more. To spend time with you without us fighting or rehashing the past or colliding in secret places. Although, don’t get me wrong, that last part is mighty fun.”
A small giggle works its way past my lips. “I won’t disagree.”
Liam’s gray eyes heat. “But it’s not just about that for me, when it comes to you, so tell me what you need. Explain your thoughts to me, and I’ll listen. I’ll try like hell not to be my defensive, overreactive self. Because what I feel when I’m with you has to be unique, special, and I hope you feel it enough as well to try and work through things.”
In a million years, I never expected him to approach me like this. Maybe that’s what has me thawing, has me considering that maybe we could turn into something good and real.
“Okay.” The word is quiet when I speak it, but Liam lights up the instant I put it out between us.
“Should I get us two more slices, then?” His expression looks so hopeful, like a kid on Christmas.
I nod. “Sure. And maybe that icepack.”
The two of us spend the next hour eating pizza, discussing some of our favorite trivial things, and generally staying away from tougher topics. Wilson wiggles his eyebrows as he leaves us to lock up, and I barely notice the amount of time gone by before Liam holds out his hand to help me down the theater steps.
