35. EMERSON
35
EMERSON
Now
It’s nice being friends with Liam again. It’s incredibly nice.
The day after he called, I went to dinner with him, Natalie, and Callum. I was amicable, trying to gauge how far we could lean into friendship without tipping Natalie off that we previously loved each other.
She was oblivious, making it easier for us to drift toward each other.
Over the past two weeks, we’ve been to drinks, brunch, and evening farmers’ markets in my neighborhood as a group. Liam even attended a workout class with Natalie and I—we were partners.
Even working with him has become exciting. Callum, Blake, and our marketing team are present, but I don’t have an anxious urge when we have to be around each other.
Like I said, it’s nice being his friend.
However. . . being friends doesn’t stop the surge of heat when our bodies brush. Fingers graze and linger when passing the pepper. Shoulders brushing getting into a car, or knees bumping when sitting near each other.
That’s happening right now.
Everyone, as in our strange growing friend group—Natalie and Liam, Chloe and Seth, Callum and I—are out for dinner. We’re rounding out our week at Parlor Pizza in the West Loop.
We’re seated outside on the patio at a picnic table. On one side of the table are Cal, Natalie, and Liam. On the other, across from them is Seth and Chloe, leaving me directly across from Liam. Our knees bump because of his height.
As our drinks are delivered to the table, I keep sensing a set of eyes shifting toward me. I realize that Liam keeps glancing at me.
“Is there something on my face?” I give him a quizzical look.
“I like the haircut,” he tells me.
I cut it today. I had the idea, but I didn’t think it would last—all of my hair ideas are fleeting, so I called my stylist, and by the end of the day, my hair was five inches shorter.
“Oh, yeah. I—I got it done today.” I tuck a loose strand behind my ear, acting like a nervous elementary school girl when her crush compliments her. “Thanks for noticing.”
Liam’s mouth lifts into a soft smile. “I always notice you.”
“Have you and Cal decided whether you want to buy the old Morrison Hotel?” Liam tenses as I ask the question.
“Yes.”
“That was quick? Do you usually make decisions that fast?”
“No. Didn’t say we were going for it or not.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
“Alright then.” I let out a sigh, letting my eyes go too expressive in his presence, giving myself away. He can tell I’m getting annoyed that he is being this short with me.
“What—”
“Remember this friend thing between us? It requires talking to me. Did I do something?”
“Didn’t say that.”
“You are acting like it.”
We’ve caught Callum’s attention. He’s staring at us from his spot on the other end of the table.
“Cal said you two had lunch,” Liam says quietly. We lower our voices to keep the conversation between us.
“We did yesterday.” I keep trying to make eye contact with him, but now he’s choosing to avoid mine. “Only to catch up. ”
“Like you did that summer?” His tone has a bite of jealousy—or is he hurt about us getting lunch?
I glance at Cal, who is still staring down at us two. My face falters. Did he tell Liam? He promised me he wouldn’t.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I lie. I know exactly what he’s talking about. The year after that dreaded summer in London, I returned to London for work. It took the entire four days I was there to work up the courage to talk to Liam. In my mind, showing up at his favorite café where he gets coffee every Thursday morning was a bright idea, as opposed to texting or calling to say, ‘Hey, I’m in London.’
I approached the café when I saw him sitting outside with someone else, a female someone else. I turned around, hurt that he had moved on. I already had plans to get lunch with Callum later that day. I tried to bail, but he wouldn’t let me. Callum and I remained friends but set the rule that day that we wouldn’t talk about Liam.
“You do, States. I saw you two,” he whisper yells. Saw us? Shit, he probably felt as I did.
“I was there for work, and we are friends.” I shake my head at him, pleading with him to believe the truth.
“Right, just friends. That’s why you reacted the way you did at dinner last week at the idea of you two going on a date. Maybe Nat should set the two of you up.”
My mouth drops.
“Why are you acting this way?” I ask, disappointed in his hurt behavior.
He shoos me off. That’s fine; if that’s how he wants to play, let’s play.
“You know what, maybe she should. I did always think that he was more attractive and a better man. Somehow, I got stuck with. . . you .”
Any ounce of emotion on his face disappears. His eyes flare and darken, not in the dark color that he gets when he’s craving to be inside of me, but in a shade of hurt that I’ve only ever seen once before.
Why, Emerson? Why did you have to say that?
Shaking his head, Liam goes to say something but is cut off by the waitress standing at the head of the wooden table, ready to take our orders.
“Want to split the Honey Boo Boo? Or Burrata Be Kidding Me?” Natalie asks Liam. “We could get both if you join us, Emme,” she eyes me.
“Sounds good.” I nod.
“A pizza love triangle. Love it!” She shakes her shoulders and then turns to the waiter, giving her our order.
I watch Natalie. Liam is watching me. A love triangle this sure is.
I excuse myself to the restroom.
Chloe touches my arms as I get up. Leaning back, she looks up at me and asks, “You okay?”
“Yeah. . . yeah, need to pee.”
She straightens out, jumping back into conversation.
***
Exiting the bathroom, my hand still on the metal handle, the heavy door closing behind me, I run directly into something solid. I don’t need to open my eyes to know who it is. The aroma of cedar and vanilla filters into my nose, running through my veins.
I don’t open my eyes. I do not even bother to acknowledge him as I try to push past him, but he’s too sturdy.
I step back, flush with the door. Reluctantly, I lift my head to meet his gaze.
“Tell me you didn’t mean it.” Liam’s voice is desperate as if he doesn’t get the answer he wants, then he will explode. Strands of his hair are out of place like he’s been tugging on it .
“Mean what?”
“Cal. Me. Our first summer together. That you just got stuck with—did you mean it?”
“I don’t know, maybe I did. That was six years ago, can’t remember.” I let myself fall further into the door. “All of that is in the. . . past.”
“It’s not the past. Is it?”
“You asked me to look past it. I am.”
Liam growls softly.
“Am I missing something?” I ask slightly sardonically.
“Tell. Me.”
This is the second time he’s demanding answers from me. Answers and conversations I’d generally avoid. I don’t like talking about us. Then, because I was scared. Now, because the memories are ghosts that haunt me.
His gaze is hot beating down on me, making my thoughts and emotions revolve around him as if he is the sun.
His height is to his advantage.
Discreetly, I squeeze my legs together, trying to get rid of the heat that is gathering between them. I can’t bring myself to continue looking at his face, so I stare straight forward into his chest.
“No—”
“Full sentences. Please.”
“No is a full sentence. Didn’t you graduate at the top of your year?”
“Emerson. . .” I’m getting under his skin. Good.
“No. . . no, I didn’t mean it. You shouldn’t have to ask that if you know me.”
“Why say it? Why joke about us?” His right-hand touches the side of my face. Liam grazes it slowly down to my chin, holding it. “I do know you. . . more than I probably should. More than anyone, I bet. I shouldn’t remember you the way I do—your favorite color, your freckles that appear when you are in the sun, or the way you smell. How you sneak out of bed to brush your teeth because you can’t kiss anyone in the morning because of your irrational phobia of morning breath. The small scar just below your right ear.” His hand touches it as I turn my head. “And I shouldn’t remember that all it takes to get your pulse racing is to put you in a position like this. We both know you love to be up against a wall.
“Your pulse is racing right now. I can see it—you’re simmering, thinking about the last time we were in a bathroom. How I pushed you up against the wall there, my hand covering your mouth so that no one else could find joy in your screams. You’re trying to resist us. You’re wondering what it would be like if you turned the knob that’s currently digging into your back, pull us inside, and lock it behind you.”
My eyelids blink in sync with my pulse. It’s unfortunate how right Liam is. “Curious if we are still just as good.” I swallow. Liam drags his head away from mine and watches how slowly it makes its way down my throat. “It would be. Wanna know why? Because I know you. And you know me. You know I’m thinking about it too,” he says, looking past my eyes and into all of me.
“That’s not what I’m thinking about.”
He laughs, and I want to smack the smirk off his face. Maybe I was thinking about it. Is that wrong?
Actually, yes, Emerson, that is completely wrong . You are thinking about him in ways you can’t think about him anymore. He hurt you. He hasn’t apologized. He is your friend . We don’t think about friends this way—except for Liam. You always think about him as more than a friend.
He was wrong about one thing, though.
I’m not curious if it would still be good. I know it would be. In this life, in another life, and in whatever life we found each other in, I know we’d be too good together. I’m not just talking about sex. I mean, in all facets of life, we would be too good together. Loving each other would have been too good, and that’s why we could never be together .
“Sure it isn’t. Then why’d you squeeze your legs, and your hands are clutching your skirt?”
I didn’t think he noticed that.
“I notice everything about you. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”
I roll my eyes and try to push past him again, but he doesn’t budge. The electricity consuming my body is evolving from desire to frustration. Why is he doing this? Why does it matter that I made a joke? Would he have been jealous if I had wanted Callum back then?
So I ask him. “Why are you doing this?”
“Just because we aren’t together doesn’t mean that my entire being isn’t consumed by you still. It’s a bad habit I’ve had for years. Every thought of my every moment is you . Your contagious laugh, the way you squish your nose when you are embarrassed, your intelligence and ability to read a person’s needs, how you try to order different things at a restaurant and then hate it because you are a picky eater. Shall I go on?”
My grasp on control is slipping. I’m starting to lose control of my heart—again—when he says things like that to me.
I can’t speak. I can’t stop Liam, nor do I want to.
There’s power in knowing you are the source of someone’s every thought.
“Even now, I can’t seem to escape the thought of you .”
My breath hitches.
He holds my chin where I can’t look anywhere but him. A firm, warm grasp that might melt the skin right off.
“This whole time, I knew somehow, somewhere, we’d find each other again,” he continues. His gaze shifts from my eyes to my mouth. Mine matches his. Liam rests his forehead on mine.
“Tell me you feel the same. We’ll figure it out. Questions answered. No more hurting. I’ll tell Natalie. It’ll be over.” His voice is pure desperation .
I’m frozen. I think my heart stopped beating because I feel nothing and absolutely everything simultaneously.
After several moments, I open my mouth to speak.
“Emerson. . . ?”