6. Liv
six
Liv
By Day Three, I have learned three things about Keanu Reed. One: he drinks his coffee black. Two: he pretends not to like sweet things, but he ate half my cinnamon roll when he thought I wasn't looking. Three: when Keanu looks at me like he is right now, I forget how language works.
We're standing behind the winery. He came for coffee. Somehow, coffee became lunch. Lunch became a tour I gave him. And the tour has brought us into the barrel room.
"This is where you nap?" he asks.
"I did not tell you that."
"Lyra did."
"She's dead to me."
He smiles. "You really used to hide in here?"
"Sometimes."
"Why?"
"Because Lex believes every minute should be productive."
"Terrifying."
"Exactly."
I sit on an empty barrel, and Keanu leans against another. “You're different here."
"How?"
"Responsible."
I groan. "Don't insult me."
"It's not an insult."
"It feels like one."
His expression becomes serious. "You don't like working here?"
"I love the winery."
"Then what?"
I look around. "I think I'm scared."
"Of what?"
"Everybody's moving forward. Lex has Taila. Lyra has Owen. Lana had Marx, and even though they're apart now, she had this huge thing that changed her."
"And you're worried you're standing still."
"Yes."
Keanu steps closer. "You're twenty-three."
"Thank you for reminding me."
"I'm saying you have time."
"For what?"
"Everything."
His voice is quiet, and I look at him. “Even you?"
His jaw tightens. "Liv."
"Why do you keep saying my name like it's a warning?"
"Because you're dangerous."
I smile. "I'm five-four."
"Doesn't matter."
"You're twice my size."
"Still dangerous."
I slide off the barrel and step next to him. "Keanu."
His gaze drops to my mouth and my heart pounds. "Tell me to stop." He looks at me.
"I should."
"But?" He reaches up. His thumb brushes my cheek.
"But I don't want you to." I lean up and place my lips against his.
For half a second, terror flashes through me.
What if I've read everything wrong? What if he's only been kind?
Then his hand tightens at my waist, and all that fear melts into a rush of relief so sharp it almost makes me laugh into his mouth.
He wants me too. Maybe not sensibly. Maybe not conveniently.
But he does. Or he kisses me. I'm not entirely sure.
All I know is one second there's space between us and the next there isn't. His hand settles carefully at my waist, away from the healing tattoo.
The kiss starts tentative. Almost sweet.
Then I curl my fingers into his shirt. Keanu makes a rough sound.
And the kiss deepens. Heat sweeps through me.
My entire body feels awake. When we finally separate, we're both breathing hard.
His forehead rests against mine. “Come home with me, Liv.”