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He took a long sip of his coffee, finally letting his green eyes settle on me. When he lowered the mug, he let out a heavy, measured sigh. “Don’t know.”
“Maybe we need some sort of schedule. Who’s responsible for what meals. Who’s gonna buy what groceries.” I made a vague gesture with my hands. “Division of labor and all that.”
“Do not make another bloody binder.”
I gave him a look. “They’re helpful. Structure is our friend right now, and you can’t deny that. This is a unique situation, and it’s not like I can go ask my friends how they do it at their houses.”
He conceded that with a slight raise of his eyebrows.
“I can understand why Mira wants to stay here.” I set my coffee down. “If anything, I’m surprised it took her this long to ask. But I’m not willing to say we’re moving in here permanently just yet. Maybe we take this a month at a time.”
For a moment, I allowed myself one quick glance at my house and felt a pang underneath my ribs. It must have shown on my face.
“I bet you can get her back there after a while,” he said. “This might just be a phase.”
“Orshe’ll always want to be here because it’s where her parents lived. Because it’s her home. I can’t begrudge her that.” Looking at Liam’s face, I tried to puzzle out what I saw there and, as usual, came up blank. “You really didn’t mind leaving your house?”
He shook his head. “Just a house. Didn’t feel too much of anything about it, really. Wasn’t big and flashy.”
“And you don’t have a place in London?” I asked. Was it shameless prying? Absolutely.
Liam gave a slight nod. “Not mine, though. Bought it for my mum and her family.”
“Herfamily?” I asked. “Aren’t they yours too?”
He rolled his neck, which popped audibly when he tilted to the right. “She remarried when I was a teenager. They had a couple more kids.”
“How old were—”
Liam held up his hand. “Zoe, I know you cannot physically stop yourself from being nosy right now, but I believe we’ve reached our daily quota for personal questions.”
“It’s not even seven a.m.,” I told him.
His eyebrows arched slowly. “Exactly.”
I took a slow sip of coffee, my mind buzzing from the interaction. Bantering with Liam Davies perked me up faster than any caffeinated beverage in the world.
What an inconvenient realization.
“How many do I get every day?”
Liam set his mug down, his face inscrutable. “How many what?”
“Personal questions.”
His eyes traced my face. “You are not serious,” he said slowly.
“As a heart attack. We’re about tocohabitate. We’re raising a child together. You can’t expect me not to be curious.”
It took him an annoyingly long time to answer. He just stood there, staring at me like I was the world’s most complicated puzzle. No one had ever looked at me like that.
The moment he came to a decision, I saw it in his eyes. “You get one on weekdays, two on weekends.”
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing.
Except ... he didn’t so much as crack a smile. He was serious.
My laughter faded. “Holy shit, you’re not kidding,” I whispered.
