Chapter Fourteen
My heart plummets into my stomach. Instinctively, my mind jumps to the worst-case scenarios. Was my dad in an accident? Did he have a heart attack? I told her I’d be out all day…
Liam watches me as I rapidly call my mom. I try to match his pace as we walk back to the car. I dial and watch him give Blue another drink of water, listening to the echoing of the dial tone.
“Lucy?” my mother finally answers. “Where have you been?”
“I was hiking and didn’t have any service,” I explain, trying to suppress my irritation at my mother constantly having to know where I am. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, honey. It’s Josie—”
I don’t hear much after that.
I make out the words “collapsed” and “hospital” and “London,” but my mother’s voice sounds distant, like when you’re underwater and everything is muffled. My fingers feel numb around the phone and I slide down against the Jeep, my legs folding like paper beneath me, my sneakers skidding across the gravel like sandpaper.
“Lucy?” I hear Liam’s voice, but I’m still under the water. I’m looking up and the view is blurry, like I can see him on the edge of the pool, the sun behind him, the ripples on the surface making the outline of his figure sway back and forth. “Lucy, look at me.” It’s finally his touch that snaps me back to reality. He reaches down and wraps his arms around my wrist, and my gaze falls to his tight grip. When I follow the trail of his arm, I meet his concerned gaze, his jaw in a tight line.
“Lucy?” my mom’s voice says in my ear. Liam nods reassuringly.
“Yeah, Mom. Sorry, I’m here,” I say, not breaking contact with Liam. I feel the warmth of his arms subside for a moment, only to feel his fingers thread through my free hand seconds later. “I’ll be in the car in an hour, I’ll get to you as fast as I can.”
“Honey, there’s no point in that. I can’t get a flight to London until tomorrow night, and the doctors say that she is stable now.”
“Mom, I need to see her,” I say, my voice weakening with every word.
“I know, Luce. But the doctors say she’ll make it through this, but the cancer may—”
Cancer .
“—be too far progressed at this point.”
My forehead falls to my knees. I’m not a crier—I never have been. Anne’s been pushing sob stories at me for years, but none of them ever make me crack. In this moment, all I want to do is cry. I want to feel the release of a sob coming out of my throat, of not being able to catch my breath, of my nose filling with phlegm and tears painting lines down my face. And yet, I’ve got nothing.
“I can’t believe this is happening.”
But I can believe it. I’ve always admired my aunt’s lifestyle. She’s always been chasing this idyllic life, and now it’s caught up with her. Wasn’t it just a few weeks ago that she was telling me that she might be getting too old for the fast-paced life she leads? When she told me about her plans for Paris in a few weeks, she said over and over again how tired she was. How could I not pick up on it?
“She’ll get through this, Lucy. I’ll bring her home and she’ll be taken care of, I promise.” I nod as my mom speaks.
“I want to come with you,” I say, noticing the shift in Liam’s body next to me. Anne will understand. This is an emergency. I know I’m on a deadline here to produce something for Ruby, but these are extenuating circumstances.
“Lucy, it’s not feasible, and besides, you’re busy with work.” I move away from Liam, hoping he can’t hear my mother’s end of the call. “We both know Josie wouldn’t want you to give up on this opportunity. Let me worry about getting her home, and then you can see her as soon as she’s back, okay?”
I shake my head. I know she’s right, but I hate that I can’t help, that I can’t see Josie right now. I feel awful knowing I can’t be there for her, and for my mom, in person.
“Okay, keep me updated, as soon as you get there.” We say our goodbyes and I take a slow, deep breath.
“Hey,” Liam says, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “What’s going on?”
I look up and I’m met with the most comforting face I’ve ever seen. Liam parts his perfect lips to say something, but holds back, deciding to rest a hand on my shoulder instead.
“It’s my aunt,” I say, my voice shaky. “She’s sick.” I rub my hand across my forehead, running my fingers through my hair. I look at Liam in disbelief, because… where has this day gone? How did I end up in a dirt parking lot with Liam’s hand in mine, and Aunt Josie in a hospital thousands of miles away?
“Do you need to go home?” he asks, his voice low.
I shake my head. “No, she lives in London. My mom is going to go and bring her back. I have to—” I’m about to say, “ stay here to work ,” but I catch myself. “I’ll be there when my mom brings her home.”
Blue lays down at my feet, his big mouth wide, and his giraffe-length tongue hanging out of his mouth as he pants. I lean forward to pet him, wrapping my arms around him and relishing the comfort that hugging a dog can provide. Liam’s hand falls down my back, and he rubs circles into my spine. All I want to do is turn into him and let him comfort me, but I resist.
“Come on, I’ll take you back,” he says, stepping back. And just like that our physical contact is broken.
We don’t speak much on the way back. Every so often Liam flashes me a sideways glance or places a hand on my knee. I mostly look out the window, remembering just a few hours ago when I felt free enough to stand and scream in the wind—thinking about how proud Josie would be that I did that.
When we get back to the house, I get out of the car and start to prepare my “ Thanks for a nice day ,” speech to Liam. But he follows my lead, letting Blue out of the truck as well, and I’m wondering what his plan is.
“Blue insists that we keep you company tonight,” Liam says matter-of-factly. “He won’t take no for an answer.”
I manage a smile. “Is that so?”
“Yep, we discussed it in the truck,” he says with a nod. He gives me a sympathetic smile.
“Liam, I—”
“Lucy, please,” he puts his hand up to stop me. “At least let me make you dinner. I’m really shit in uncomfortable situations. I never know what to do or what to say. But I can make some banging food. So let me do that for you. Please?”
The urgency in his voice lightens the mood a little. I press my lips together. “I was just going to say that I really want to take a shower first, so maybe you and Blue could come back in half an hour.” That’s not what I was going to say, of course, but the look on Liam’s face took away any objections I had about wanting to be alone tonight.
“Oh, right,” Liam responds, nodding a bit too much. “A shower sounds like a good plan. I’ll do that too.” Is he flustered? He shakes his head to get the hair out of his eyes but avoids looking directly at me. I feel like he was trying to be all assertive with his “Blue insists” plan, and I totally killed his mojo. I try to keep my giggle to myself.
“I’ll see you in a little bit,” I say, giving him an awkward wave. I pat Blue on the head and step inside, anxious to get the sticky sweat of the day off my body. I feel bad that Liam feels like he needs to stay with me tonight, instead of going to the restaurant. But it’s not like I asked him to. He offered. And maybe with him here, I’ll think less about how much I wish I could teleport myself across the ocean to Josie’s side.
The shower is regenerative. I always feel better when I’m clean—and feeling refreshed takes on a whole new meaning after hiking six miles today. The muscles in my legs are twitching from the hike, a clear sign I’m out of shape—shocking given all the walking I do in Manhattan.
I throw on a pair of yoga pants and a soft T-shirt. I don’t feel like I need to impress Liam, it’s not like this is a date. He’s just making me dinner after a rough day, and rough days call for yoga pants.
Once I’m dressed, I clear my notebooks and put away all my work stuff, trying to suppress the guilt that surfaces as I look over some of my sketches. But I can’t deal with any more complicated emotions tonight.
I check my phone and find a text from my mom.
Just talked to the doctor at the hospital. Josie is awake and talking. She wants to leave already. They said we can call her in the morning.
I smile at the thought of my rambunctious aunt fighting with a bunch of British doctors. She’s probably threatening to take her IV out and leave against medical advice. I honestly wouldn’t put it past her.
Oh Josie .
I don’t know much about the fight that is in front of her, but I’ll feel better once she’s on this side of the ocean and I can fight it with her.
A firm knock on the door catches my attention, followed by Blue’s deep bark. As I approach, I can hear Liam’s muffled voice as he speaks to Blue. “It was me, buddy. I knocked. It’s okay.”
I chuckle when I open the door, Blue’s ears are perked up and his tail wags manically. I need to get a dog.
“Hey,” I say, and Blue comes rushing in, the nails on his paws click-clacking on the wood floor. He makes himself right at home, sniffing the perimeter of the foyer and dashing straight into the kitchen.
“He’s looking for Mella. She feeds him. Usually cold cuts,” Liam explains, stepping into the house. He’s carrying two reusable grocery bags that are stuffed to the brim. His hair is wet and scraggly. He is in some variation of a Liz’s T-shirt and sweat shorts. I inhale the scent that follows him into the house—he still smells like the woods but mixed with fresh, minty soap. It makes my stomach flip, the scent of him.
“I didn’t know what you had, so I just brought what was in my fridge,” he says, gesturing to the bags.
“Well, I have some eggs, wine, and some of the cake you brought me. Not sure there’s a meal in there though,” I reply with a laugh. I follow him into the kitchen. “Is it weird being here without Al and Mella?”
“Not really,” Liam answers, emptying his groceries onto the counter. “They’ve been spending less time here in recent years. I actually think they’ll move to Florida full-time, which is where they are now. Blue will certainly miss them though, and all the treats.” He looks down at the dog and shrugs.
I nod with a smile. “Do you need help with anything?” I ask, knowing that I really wouldn’t be much help.
“How are your knife skills?” he asks, raising a brow.
“Depends on how much blood you like in your food,” I answer. Liam makes a face.
“Never mind then,” he says. He goes over to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of white wine. “I think we deserve a little bit of wine, don’t you?”
“Today is definitely the day for it,” I agree, accepting the bottle from him. I grab two glasses from the cabinet and pour one for each of us. I sit down on one of the barstools and Blue wraps his body around the legs of the chair, settling in.
I watch as Liam dices tomatoes, onions, and garlic, tossing them into a pan with oil. The fragrance of those ingredients sautéing together is rivaled only by the scent of the chef himself. Liam looks up every so often and smiles at me watching him.
The result is a bowl of pasta with zucchini and a light tomato sauce. He plates them fancily, swirling the pasta with a spoon so it sits perfectly in the middle of the plate. He sprinkles cheese over the top and joins me at the bar.
“You’re welcome to ditch the restaurant and become my personal chef anytime,” I say, taking a bite. The pasta is heavenly. It’s light and fresh, with exactly the right amount of bite. I love it when pasta is just al dente enough that a few pieces stick together. I moan in pleasure as I eat.
“And you’re welcome to make that sound anytime you eat my food,” Liam replies, a smug smile on his face.
How far we’ve come from our conversations that consisted of my awkward babbling and his cranky grunts. I used to think I could never get a read on Liam, then I thought the only read I could get was that of a proud small-town boy, too terrified to see that not every out-of-towner was there to steal his home or look down on him. Now, though… now we’re at this happy medium. We’ve formed our own kind of friendship.
“What are you thinking about?” Liam asks, turning his stool to face me. Our knees knock together under the counter.
I let myself smile a bit. “About how just a few short weeks ago, you weren’t my biggest fan,” I say smugly.
“I don’t think that’s true,” he says, placing his fork down.
“Um, yes, it is. You were skeptical , to say the least.”
“Only a little bit,” he says seriously. Maybe he would be more so if he knew how much I was lying to him , the voice in the back of my head says. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way. And I’m sorry for today. I know I pushed you a little bit.”
“You mean cardiovascularly ?” I joke.
“Ha! No, I mean I pushed your buttons a little. It wasn’t my place, and I’m sorry.” He folds his hands on the counter and turns to face me.
I sigh. “You did, but I understand. You’re a bit like my aunt in that way actually,” I explain, lifting the side of my mouth.
“Am I?”
I nod. “She’s always pushing me to see the best in things, especially life outside of the city. I didn’t mention this earlier, but I actually have dyslexia.” Liam’s brows furrow. “School was always kind of hard for me. But now I read for a living, which is rather ironic.” Liam smiles softly.
“And pretty impressive,” Liam interjects. I smile shyly.
“My parents pushed me really hard, and Josie never agreed with how… disciplined they were when it came to school. They always thought, and they made me believe, that if I got this great job and lived in the city and proved that I could work just as hard or harder than everyone else, then I would be happy and successful.”
“Your aunt didn’t agree?”
“Hmm,” I muse, thinking about Josie’s animated rants about my lifestyle. “She just wanted me to consider my options, I guess. I’ve always had a bit of a one-track mind.”
“I can’t imagine,” Liam prods. I grimace at him.
“She’s pretty much the same way,” I add. Josie spends so much time telling me to enjoy life and embrace this opportunity in Hudson Hollow, but she’s the one gallivanting all over Europe, and look where that’s gotten her. I rest my head on my hand, thinking about my exotic aunt, and how much I wish I could hug her right now.
“She’s going to be okay,” Liam says, putting his hand on my leg. He squeezes my knee. I smile and nod. She will. I’ll see her soon. But in the meantime, I have this gorgeous man sitting in front of me, admiring me like a painting. He keeps staring, his face serene and curious.
“What?” I finally ask, as his eyes continue to move across my face. He reaches out and traces a line with his finger from my temple to my chin. I gasp quietly at his touch and let my eyes flutter closed. A satisfied sigh escapes my lips. Even if it’s just this once, I let myself fall into his touch. I let myself be held by him. And I love it.
And then his lips are pressing into mine.
I don’t jump in surprise. I don’t gasp. I don’t shudder. Because I’m not shocked. It’s as if he read my mind. This moment was inevitable between us. An understanding.
“I can’t tell you how long I’ve been thinking about this moment. About learning what you taste like,” he murmurs against my lips. He presses his lips to mine again, gently at first, and then more hungrily, like he truly is tasting something delicious for the first time. I gasp against his mouth, relishing the feeling of his fingers threading through my hair, pulling me into him with delicate urgency.
Kissing Liam is like taking a deep breath after being stuck underwater. It’s like the first gasp of air after you’ve been tossed around by an ocean wave, the oxygen filling your lungs in a way that you never thought you’d feel again.
I let my hands trail up his back and I wrap my arms around his neck. In one smooth motion he lifts me up and places me in his lap, so I’m pressed between his chest and the back of the counter.
I can’t believe this is happening. It feels so natural, Liam kissing me, holding me. I’m trying desperately to silence the part of my brain that is sounding every alarm bell.
He shifts my weight and suddenly I’m straddling him, feeling his hardness beneath his shorts. The feeling sends a wave of wanting through me. I haven’t done this in so long. I forgot how good it can feel. I forgot what it was like to want someone this badly.
I kiss him harder as his hands reach under my shirt, his fingers exploring my torso, his thumbs tracing the bottom of my bra. I dig into his hair, deepening our kiss, and pressing my tongue into his mouth. Liam groans and responds quickly, sitting up so my back is arched into the counter. I reach for the bottom of my shirt and start to lift it up, but Liam grabs my wrists and stops me.
“I’m sorry,” he says, inhaling sharply as he leans his forehead against mine. “I quite literally couldn’t help myself. I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”
“Then why did you stop?” I whisper, desperate to get that feeling back, the satisfaction of his arms around me, the comfort of being held by him, so tightly.
Liam sits back and studies my face. He pushes some stray strands of hair out of my face and tucks them behind my ear. Why is that move so heart-meltingly amazing? Why?
“Because you’re hurting right now,” he says, his voice aching.
I let myself fall back against the counter, running my fingers through my hair. I can feel the heat in my face—am I embarrassed? I don’t really have anything to feel ashamed of, we were both pretty into that kiss. But I still feel self-conscious about how far I was willing to go just now. Just today I said I needed to focus on my work here, and not get distracted.
That was a whole lot of distraction right there.
“You’re right,” I say, struggling to believe my own words. Because I don’t. He’s not taking advantage. I am hurting, but every second I spend with him makes me feel exponentially better.