Chapter 21
twenty-one
MAYA
“How are these even better than at the restaurant?” I ask through a mouthful of corn cakes.
“Doesn’t everything taste better after sex?” Liam leans down and gently bites my shoulder. “These probably aren’t the best thing to eat in bed though.” He grabs my hand and sucks off the remnant syrup from my sticky fingers. “Better.”
“You’re very good at this.”
“At what? Cleaning your hands?”
“No. This . Midnight breakfast in bed. The whole thing. You must have a trail of women pining after you.” I lie to myself that I’m not about to be one of them.
“You’d be surprised, Maya.”
Each time he says my name my knees go weak. He’s clearly a master in the art of seduction, but for tonight I don’t care. For tonight I can pretend to be the cool girl, the one who isn’t thinking about what comes next, but only what comes now .
He takes the empty plate out of my hands and sets it on the nightstand. And when he leans over me, his eyes alight with desire, I press against his shoulders and push until he’s lying on his back.
I climb over him and straddle his hips, feeling more confident than I have in years.
“What’s your favorite dessert?” I ask.
“Mmm,” he hums, his hands sliding up and down my thighs. They squeeze a little harder on each stroke. “You’re going to laugh at me.”
“No I’m not. Tell me.”
“Milkshakes.”
“Really?” He nods, his hands traveling to my backside, pulling me closer against him. “Why?”
He looks hesitant for a moment, like he’s deciding whether or not he wants to give me the truth. Then he smiles. “It’s the last thing I remember having with my dad before he died. When I started teaching myself to cook, I used to make them all the time, trying to perfect the recipe. I’m still a little obsessed.”
“That’s really sweet.” I lean down and kiss him, slow and teasing. I let my hips rock against his lap. “Maybe you should open up a diner one day. We could share a milkshake. As long as you let me have the cherry.”
“Maya,” he groans, gripping me tighter. “You can have all my cherries.” He moves one hand up to my mouth and thumbs my bottom lip. “Have I told you how happy I am that you came into my restaurant tonight?”
I don’t respond. Kiss the pad of his finger instead. But I’m really thinking, not nearly as happy as I am .
My blissful dream dissolves into a brutal winter chill.
I grab onto the quilt and tug until I’m submerged in the bedding. My whole body is shaking from the cold.
Ow .
Why does everything hurt? Why do my fingertips hurt?
I press them softly to my cheek, the small aches getting worse. And my skin feels like it’s on fire.
For a second, I wonder if I’ve swapped bodies with Ellie. It’s something I’ve silently wished for many times over the years, even if I never had the guts to say the words aloud. Aching joints, hot skin, shivers all over. Could I have finally done it?
I run a hand gently through my hair, feeling the wild tangle of curls.
Still me.
Shit. I have a fever.
“Good morning, Princess Maya!”
While Poppy’s daily greeting usually has me waking with a smile, today it only gives me a sense of dread.
“No! Stay back. Don’t get in the bed.”
“Why not?”
“Poppy, I told you to let her sleep.” Liam’s voice enters the room. “Sorry,” he mumbles to me.
“She doesn’t want me,” Poppy says through a sniffle and grabs onto her dad’s leg.
“Sorry, sweetie. I just don’t want to get you sick. I think I have a fever.”
“What?” Liam rushes over to me as I make a large X with my arms.
“Stay away!”
“Maya, come on. If you’re that contagious we’re probably gonna get it anyway.”
“You don’t understand. Ellie cannot get sick. Her immune system…just please let me quarantine until I’m better.”
Liam glares at me like I’m being a petulant child. But he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t realize how…
“Oh no.” I was with Ellie last night. “Oh god. Where’s my phone? I need to call Ezra.” I start flailing, searching the nightstand for a cell phone that seems to have run away. “Where the hell is my phone?”
“Maya,” Liam soothes, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m calling him. It’s gonna be okay. Just breathe.”
His voice changes when he talks into the phone. “Hey, man. How’s Ellie doing?”
I hold my breath, praying I didn’t put my best friend in danger.
“That’s good. Look, Maya isn’t feeling well this morning. I think she’s worried she might have?—”
I steal the phone from him.
“I have a fever, Ez. Not sure the temp but I’m positive I have one. Everything hurts. Even my fingertips. I woke up shivering.”
“Damn, I’m sorry, Maya. Sounds like the flu. There’s an urgent care not too far from town if you?—”
“I don’t give shit about me. I’m telling you so you can make sure Ellie’s?—”
“Ellie’s fine. I’m already checking her vitals every few hours. Nothing will get past me, I promise.”
“Okay. Okay, good. Tell her I love her and I’ll FaceTime whenever she wants until I can come over.”
“I will. But please take care of yourself. The flu is nasty this year. Didn’t you get a shot? With your asthma you really need to be careful.”
God, he sounds like every doctor I had growing up. Yes, I am aware of my risk of pneumonia and all sorts of other respiratory infections. I’ll just have to hope for the best.
“I know, I know. I usually do but this year has been a little hectic.”
“Yeah, I know. Just get some rest. And if your chest feels tight at all I want you to call me right away, okay?”
“Yes, doctor.”
“Can you put Liam back on?”
I hand the phone to Liam and burrow back under the covers, still feeling like an icy breeze is prickling my skin.
Liam still sits on the edge of my bed, and I can feel Poppy climb on next to him. Don’t they realize they need to keep their distance?
“Yep,” Liam says into the phone. “Will do. I got it. Thanks, Ez.”
He sets the phone down and shifts on the bed.
“Angel, can you go get the thermometer from the bathroom? In the second drawer down?”
I groan into the blankets. “Please stay away from me. I’ll be fine.”
He ignores me, starts fluffing pillows like I do for Ellie.
Then Poppy comes back and he’s peeling the quilt away from my face, holding a thermometer up to my forehead.
I hear a couple of beeps before Liam announces, “A hundred and two ,” like he’s proving a point.
“Are you hungry?” he asks. But before I can answer he keeps going. “Do you want to take a bath? I’ll bring Poppy with me to the store?—”
“Can’t I just Doordash some Theraflu? I really don’t need you to take care of me.”
Just the thought makes me uncomfortable. I’m the caregiver. The person Ellie can always count on. Whenever I’ve been sick I just deal with it myself. Even as a child, my parents would quarantine me in my room so they couldn’t catch anything. The only people allowed to visit were concierge doctors.
“Are you crazy?” he asks, and he really sounds like he means it. “Of course I’m going to take care of you.”
Liam brings me a breakfast of extremely well-buttered toast and a mug of cinnamon tea. He lets me know that he’s taking Poppy to the store with him to get supplies, whatever that means.
I find some ibuprofen in the bathroom. I almost don’t take it, wanting to somehow show solidarity to Ellie. I can’t believe she has to suffer like this all the time. The fact that she can take prednisone, the drug that makes her feel awful, but not her over-the-counter painkillers while pregnant is just a cruel and unusual punishment toward women.
But my pursuit of getting healthy again wins out and I down three pills.
I turn on one of the business podcasts my dad is always sending to me and go right back to sleep.
When I wake again, I find a handwritten note on my pillow.
Your cell is charging on the dresser. There’s Gatorade and ginger ale in the fridge. Come downstairs when you’re up.
There is a giant bottle of water on the nightstand, and a stuffed bunny I’ve seen Poppy sleeping with lays next to me on the bed, along with a very fluffy looking robe.
And there is a purring cat lying on my feet.
Mr. Milkshake strikes again.
My fever must have broken in my sleep because I’m drenched in sweat. I decide to chug the entire bottle of water and take a quick shower to rinse off. I do not have the energy to wash my hair. Thank god for scrunchies and dry shampoo.
Slipping on the robe, which might be the most luxurious thing I’ve ever dressed in, I make my way downstairs.
The scent hits me like a drug when I’m only halfway down. Of course I have no idea what it is, but it smells heavenly. Like one big hug of deliciousness. It’s actually how Liam’s house always smells. Just dialed up about a hundred notches.
“What are you making?” I ask. My appetite’s barely existent, but for Liam’s food, I’m always a little hungry.
“Oh good, you’re up. Do you feel any better?”
“A little.”
He pulls out a stool and tells me to sit, and he has another mug of tea somehow ready to go.
“This one’s spiked,” he says, throwing me a wink. “Theraflu.”
“Perfect.” I take a long sip.
“So,” he starts, rounding the island. I love seeing him in full chef mode. Something about the man bun and the apron, with his tattoos peaking out just does it for me. “I’ve got my famous pastina on the stove, almost done. They call it Italian penicillin.”
“Famous, huh?”
“Not really, but it’s my sister’s favorite. I used to make it for her all the time. And it does have a secret ingredient. I also made some ginger chicken soup and Poppy requested?—”
“Noodle rice!” Poppy literally pops into sight before giving my leg a squeeze. “We’re gonna cure you, Princess Maya.”
“Thanks, Pop-tart. I just really hope I don’t get either of you sick.” I feel guilty even being here. What kind of houseguest brings the flu?
“We both had flu shots,” Liam says over his shoulder, still stirring something on the stove. “And now we have tons of food and medicine ready in case it hits us. So stop worrying.”
“Can we have noodle rice now?”
“What’s noodle rice?” I ask Poppy.
“It’s the best thing ever!” she cheers.
“It’s a surprisingly delicious combo of canned soups, noodles, and rice,” Liam offers, handing me a dish. He gives another to Poppy and takes the third stool to join us. “Right after we moved here, Poppy got some nasty virus. Then I got it, too, so I didn’t want to go anywhere. Pretty much threw everything we had in the pantry into a casserole and hoped for the best. Now it’s her favorite meal.”
The plate in front of me doesn’t look like a typical Liam Harley dish. It’s just sort of…brown mush. But I take a bite, and it really is delicious. Decadently salty, and just rich enough to taste while sick. It’s perfect.
“Mmm mmmm,” Poppy singsongs, shoveling the rice mixture into her mouth. “We should have this every day.”
“If you had this much sodium every day, you would turn into a balloon,” Liam grumbles. He steals a bite from my plate, chews thoughtfully. “It kills me a little that this tastes so good. It could be made from food stored in a bomb shelter.”
“If it makes you feel better, I think it’d be even tastier with some fresh herbs from the garden.”
He stands up and wraps an arm around my shoulders, gives me a light squeeze. “Liar.” He drops a soft kiss on my temple. “Just promise me you’ll try the soup later. I need to get some nutrients in you.”
Our eyes meet, and for the first time since I woke up, I think about everything that transpired last night. A whole different kind of heat rolls through me.
“I promise.”
Liam must be able to read my thoughts, his lips curling into a grin.
Poppy seems to be unaware of this little moment we’re having. She’s almost cleaned her plate, but before the last couple of bites she starts chanting “Noodle rice! Noodle rice!” over and over again.
The Theraflu has my eyes feeling heavy and Liam sends me to bed as soon as I’m done eating. This time, the only thing I dream about is Liam in an apron. Feeding me noodle rice.
It’s dark when I wake again. And I’m greeted with about fifteen new texts from Ellie.
I check the time, and it’s only just after seven, so I click on the FaceTime button next to her name.
“So I hear you feel like me, now,” she says in greeting.
I squint at my reflection. “Yet I look so much worse. How does your skin look so…alive?”
“Lupus rash.”
“It’s really working for you.”
“Thanks. Miss you. I’ve been spoiled having you here every day. Plus, Grey’s is kind of depressing without your commentary.”
“God, don’t torture yourself. Switch to Gilmore Girls until I can come over again.”
“Already did.” We both laugh. I love how well we know each other, how much we get each other. “Is Liam taking good care of you?”
“He’s trying,” Liam’s voice startles me when he pops his head into the room.
“Is that him?” Ellie whispers, over-exaggerating her mouth with each word.
I shake my head at her. “Hey, Liam. Come say hi to Ellie.” I turn the phone around and beckon him inside.
“Hey, El. I’ll leave you girls to it, just wanted to make sure Maya ate something before she went back to sleep.”
“Ooh, what are you?—”
“I’ll call you back,” I cut Ellie off and hang up.
She can read me too well. Even through the phone she will absolutely know something is going on with me and Liam. She already got way too excited about a kiss. I need to figure out how to tell her about the recent events before she sees us together.
Liam sets a very full tray on the dresser and sits at the edge of the bed.
“Feeling any better?”
“Yeah, a little. Thanks.” I sit up, try to slyly pinch my cheeks and smooth out my hair. “What’d you bring me?”
“A full liquid diet. Tea, water, and two types of soup. Why are you pouting?”
“I’m not,” I lie.
“You want more noodle rice, don’t you?” He sighs before I can answer, so I just respond with a smile. “Come on, I’ll heat some up.”
He grabs my hand and pulls me up. I must look unsteady on my feet because he keeps his hands on my shoulders, guiding me the whole way down the stairs.
Once my dinner is warmed, he piles three layers of flannel over me on the sofa until I am truly snug as a bug and then goes back upstairs to grab my tea.
I have to admit, I don’t hate it. I thought I’d be annoyed having someone dote on me like this. Maybe I would if it wasn’t Liam. Everything is different with him. What he said to me last night…
“Want some company?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts.
I should call Ellie back, but also… “Sure, I’d like that.”
He settles in next to me, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his thighs. He looks like he’s about to give me a lecture.
“Listen, about what I said last night,” he starts. I can’t tell if he’s about to apologize or double down.
“It’s okay, we don’t need to?—”
“Maya. Let me finish.” He pins me with a stare but his lips curl up at the corners. He’s not nervous. He’s enjoying this. “Look, when we first met, the actual first time, you were…hesitant. You told me about the guy you’d just broken up with, the one you were supposed to be with at my restaurant.”
“I did?” I know I can be an over-sharer—thanks, only child syndrome—but based on what I know happened later that night, I can’t believe I blabbered to Liam about my sad love life and he was still interested.
“Yeah. And I hate that in the time since then, someone treated you poorly again. I hate that someone hurt you when you should have never even met —” He pauses, takes one of my hands in his. It feels like he needs an anchor. “The truth is, I knew right away that you were too good for me, too sweet, too alive for someone like me. I never thought I’d have a real chance with you. And maybe I still don’t, but that’s not gonna stop me from trying. Because I know there’s something here. I know there’s a reason I found you again and I know that being with you just…it makes sense. I’m not like the men from your past. I would never lie to you, Maya. So if you believe one thing, believe that.”
“I—” My words get caught in my throat, not knowing how to respond. I’ve experienced all sorts of romantic declarations throughout my life. Greg told me he loved me for the first time on a yacht in Santorini. Ryan proposed with fireworks in the Hamptons. I have lived these fairytale moments that turned out to be utter bullshit. But this moment, right here on Liam’s couch, with a bowl full of noodle rice in my lap, has me at an absolute loss for words.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his hand reaching up to my face. I didn’t realize I was crying until he brushes a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
“Nothing. I just, I really want to kiss you right now but I can’t breathe out of my nose.” I sniffle a few times, proving my point but hopefully not grossing him out. Somehow, knowing what a mess I look like right now has me feeling even more emotional about what he said.
I believe him. Hell, I agree with him. Something about being with Liam does feel right. But there are still too many unknowns, too many ways this could go horribly wrong. He has a daughter, he’s Ellie’s friend, he makes me want things I’ve never been able to have.
This is all kinds of messy. And yet, messy doesn’t sound all that bad when it’s with Liam. Perfection hasn’t done much for me when it comes to men. Maybe messy is how I break the cycle.
I sniffle again, louder this time, and Liam’s laugh warms me all the way to my toes.
“Let’s save the kissing for when you’re feeling better. I promise I’ll make it worth the wait.” He takes the almost-empty dish out of my hands and places it on the coffee table. “Want to lay down in my room so you can watch TV in bed?”
“That sounds nice, actually.”
He grins back like a kid who just asked for a puppy and immediately got the yes.
If Liam wants me in his bed, who am I to deny that wish?
And that is how I spend the next five days.
Flu-ridden, sharing Liam’s bed, cuddling with Penguin, watching cooking competitions until all hours of the night, and feeling the happiest I have in years.