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“Men get crushes too,” he barked. And, oh my, his cheekbones flushed pink. My heart couldn’t take it. “Don’t make a big bloody thing about it. It was a long time ago, and once that twat walked in for dinner and you set down your book and I saw the ring, I gotoverit, all right?”
I’d forgotten so many details of that night. The only one that remained seared in my memory was the way he’d locked eyes with me and wished me luck with husband number two.
It was so audacious, so rude, and—worst of all—so incredibly accurate.
“I was reading at the island while Chris and Amie were grilling on the deck,” I said quietly.
“Harry Potter,” he added. “I think it was the third book.”
Slowly, I nodded.
His eyes traced over my hair, which was undoubtedly a mess, as it always was in the mornings. “It was curly that night, and I thought”—he stopped, swallowing again—“I thought you were Hermione come to life for a minute. Older, though.”
Was my jaw on the floor?
Tucked behind my chest, my heart hammered wildly, and I had the vague worry that he could hear it. “Have a crush on Hermione, did you?” I asked lightly, an attempt to break the tension building and building and building.
“Of course.” He looked at me like I was nuts. “Who didn’t?”
“You’ve read Harry Potter.” It wasn’t a question. Just ... making sure I wasn’t hallucinating the entire exchange.
He shifted on his feet again. “My youngest half sister loves those books. She was always reading one of ’em when I visited in the summers.”
I rolled my lips between my teeth and studied him. He looked like Liam. Sounded like him. What had I said to Rosa in my text earlier?
An enlightening twelve hours, indeed.
As it turned out, he was desperately endearing when being teased.Maybe too endearing,something in the back of my head whispered, but I steadfastly ignored that.
“You’re a Hufflepuff, aren’t you?” I asked. “It makes so much sense.”
Liam reared his head back. “I am not.”
I arched an eyebrow.
“I’m a fucking Slytherin,” he snapped. “Have you met me?”
I hummed.
He jabbed a finger in the air. “See? Everyone makes judgy little noises when I say that. Slytherins are massively misunderstood.” Hetucked his arms over his chest again, his chin notched in the air. “You can’t tell me Draco didn’t get dealt a shit hand. He was no bad guy in the end, and no matter what you say, I’ll never change my mind.”
The battle against my growing smile was lost, and I couldn’t stop it fast enough.
Liam rolled his eyes, exhaling a harsh puff of air. From anyone else, I’d have thought it was one step away from a laugh. But with him? I hardly knew anymore.
In his halting voice and choppy words, with the blush of embarrassment high on his cheeks, he’d admitted something to me that he’d probably never intended to reveal.
And if we’d never decided to share this space, he probably never would have.
I was starting to realize that maybe I’d never really known Liam Davies at all. It was the sort of knowledge that could rock the foundations if I wasn’t careful, sloshing water over the edges at an alarming rate.
Tidal waves had less impact than this conversation, and something sweet expanded in my lungs as I felt the implications crash over me.
“So you had a crush on me,” I said quietly.
He couldn’t meet my eyes. “Don’t make a big thing about it.”
Slowly, I nodded. “So that night, you were like ... the boy on the playground who pulls the girl’s hair because he doesn’t know how to use his words.”
