Chapter Forty-Seven
OUR FRIDAY EVENING IS MUNDANE, AND I’m grateful for it.
Liam shows me how to use his shower. I forgot to pack a shirt to sleep in, so he leaves me one of his. An old football shirt that falls midway down my thighs. When I pass through the upstairs hallway, I run my fingers over the picture frames. I marvel at how the walls in this house hold on to things.
Liam offers to make dinner, and while he does, I slip down to their basement to choose from his collection of superhero movies again.
We meet back upstairs in their family room. On the coffee table is a huge tray filled with peanut butter sandwiches.
“We’ve got our classic pb and j here.” He gestures. “Some Nutella options over here. And for dessert, peanut butter and marshmallow fluff.”
I laugh at the elaborate display.
“It’s perfect. Thank you. Here, I grabbed all the superhero movies with women on the front.”
“So . . . two.”
“Yeah . . .”
“Well, what we lack in quantity for women-led superhero movies, we make up for in badassery. Pick whichever one you want.”
“Okay. Wonder Woman. She looks like she could kill me with her pinkie finger.”
We curl up on the sofa and eat from the tray of sandwiches.
“I feel like such a rebel,” Liam says as he bites into a sandwich.
“Why? Because I’m staying here?” I ask.
“No, eating on the couch. My mom would flip out if she knew I was doing this.”
“Liam?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t you think she might also object to the whole sleepover thing?”
“Nah, they’d understand. Mitigating circumstances.”
When we finish eating, Liam puts the plate down and then pulls my legs over his lap. We sit, entangled and content, as we watch the movie. At one point, I think he’s leaning in to kiss me, but he just reaches for a blanket that he throws over our legs, and continues watching the movie. Finally, he must feel my stare, because he turns.
“You okay, Leighton?”
“Yep,” I say. “Just wondering if we were ever gonna fool around again.”
Liam laughs and pulls me farther onto his lap. I have to turn a bit to kiss him, and it would take just the slightest shift for my legs to be on either side of his hips. We’ve been here before, but it was in the cramped front seat of a car.
Not an empty house.
Liam’s hand moves under the edge of my shirt. Or rather, his shirt that I’m wearing. His hand drifts up slowly across my belly and ribs. His movements are as unrushed as ever. I never bothered to put my bra back on, so when his cool hand brushes my breast, we both gasp. He pulls away immediately, hand out of my shirt, and lifts me off him.
“Liam, what’s wrong?” I ask, a little disoriented by the sudden departure from our unspoken plan to make out for the rest of the evening.
Liam pulls up his legs and faces me on the couch. He looks dead serious, and I feel my stomach sink a bit. Something is wrong.
“Look, Leighton, I’m enjoying the hell out of this, but I’m afraid of what it is gonna lead to.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely very interested in that, with you, but I really don’t think we can do anything tonight without me feeling like I’m taking advantage of you somehow.”
I feel a wave of anger. Because my dad doesn’t get to have a part in this. He doesn’t get to make me feel like a stranger in my home and terrify the girls and hurt Mom and have any kind of influence on what happens with me and Liam. That’s not fair. It’s too much. This is mine. Mine and Liam’s.
“Liam. Stop. You can’t associate this good thing with that bad thing, or I’ll never forgive you. I swear you’ve never pressured me. And if we do anything, ever, it will be because we both want to.”
He looks unconvinced.
I get up and find my purse, digging around it in ruthlessly. Dammit. I’m fighting angry tears and can’t see into the dark bag, so I dump its contents on the floor instead. There. I grab a small plastic case and hand it to Liam.
“What is this?” he asks.
“Open it,” I say.
He opens it and examines it for several seconds.
“We did take the exact same health classes, didn’t we?” I ask.
“Shit, yes. Sorry. So . . . you’re on the pill?”
“Yeah. Have been for a little while now. See? No rushed, emotional decisions on my part. I’ve been thinking about it, and planning for it, and that doesn’t mean I’m ready tonight or anything, but if we did, it wouldn’t be because I’m stressed or scared or anything. It’s because I like you, and because I want to.”
“Okay, I hear you. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
“I honestly had no idea you were seriously considering it. We really can take all the time in the world.”
“We still can. My original time line has us waiting until July, but after the car incident on our very first date, I wasn’t sure we’d make it that long.”
Liam laughs. “Of course you have a time line. Why July?”
“Nine months since we started dating. It seemed logical to me that we shouldn’t be having sex if we can’t even make a relationship work as long as a pregnancy would last.”
“Wow. That is logical.”
“Too logical?”
“Just a bit,” Liam says, but he softens it with a kiss. “But it’s cool.”
“Yeah?”
“Honestly, it’s totally fine. That stuff is fun, but so is everything we’ve been doing together. I like you a lot, Barnes.”
“Yeah, yeah. I bet you say that to all the girls, Liam McNamara.”
Liam turns on the couch, pulls his leg up under him, faces me.
“I don’t. Listen, I know I’ve dated a lot, but that’s because it’s what we do—don’t roll your eyes, just let me finish. The girls I dated were my friends, and it was all about social status. We never really liked each other. It was . . . superficial. But that’s not how I feel with you.”
“Oh,” I say. It’s all I’ve got, because I have no idea where he’s going with this.
“Yeah. Pretty sure I’m in love with you, Barnes.”
“Oh.”
Of all the things I expected could happen this weekend, Liam McNamara saying he loved me might have been number 167 on the list. It’s not something I was looking for. And considering everything, I don’t know how I feel about it. Love is complicated.
But then I think of a different definition of love. Like the kind between friends, or sisters. I think of how much I love Junie and Cam, and I realize that it isn’t all about expectations or promises. There’s just loving someone without reason or time frames or endings in mind. Maybe it’s okay to love in the moment, and it doesn’t have to be with intentions and goals. We don’t have to want to grow up and marry each other to enjoy this now.
But I’m not ready.
“Liam, listen—”
“No, wait. Listen, this is totally the same as me moving too fast with the physical stuff after a stressful week. So, don’t say anything back now.”
“Are you sure? I just—it’s a lot to process.”
“Say no more. Should I say it again? I have this theory that if something is awkward, you should just go with it. Awkward to the tenth degree. It can’t sustain itself. Here, watch: I love you, Leighton.”
“That was weird. You didn’t call me Barnes.”
Liam laughs, and the tension snaps like a broken spell. He was right. Exponent-level awkward works. I lean in and kiss him. He turns and catches my head, my neck. His thumb brushes the side of my face when I pull back.
“I think I do, too,” I say when we break free. It’s the closest I can come to saying it. For now. “But no promises, okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, let’s not pretend we are going to be together forever, and then break each other into pieces when we aren’t, and have all of those unrealistic expectations to live happily ever after.”
“Oh, agreed. I’m only in it for the sex.”
“Liam!” I swat at his arm.
“I really like being with you, though,” I add, to soften my non-love declaration.
“Also agreed.”
“Even if you are an arrogant jock,” I say.
“Even if you are a nerd,” he counters.
“So . . .”
“No promises.”
“No promises,” I repeat.
We finish watching our movie, but my mind is anywhere else. It makes twenty-four hours of complete emotional upheaval a little better, though. To end on such a high note.