Chapter 8

Chapter 8

One month, two weeks ago

Rain is my favorite kind of weather.

I am most partial to summer storms, their strong winds and hot air, the way they make me feel like I’m sitting on the humid inside of a balloon that’s about to burst. As a kid, I’d run outside as soon as the rain started just to get all wet—which seemed to outrage my mother to no end.

But I’m not particular. It’s barely February, early in the night, and the hard drops beating a tattoo on the plastic of my umbrella, they just make me happy. I smile when I unlock the front door. Hum, too. I walk down the hall, listening to the rain instead of what’s happening inside the house, and that must be the reason I don’t hear them.

Liam and a girl. No: a woman. They are in the kitchen. Together. He’s leaning back against the counter. She’s sitting on it, at his side, close enough to lay her cheek on his shoulder while she shows him something on her phone that has both of them smiling. It’s the most relaxed I’ve seen Liam with anyone. Clearly a very intimate moment that I should not be interrupting, except that I can’t make myself move. I feel my stomach sink and remain rooted to the floor, unable to retreat as the woman shakes her head and murmurs something in Liam’s ear that I cannot hear, something that has him chuckling in low, deep tones, and—

I must gasp. Or make some sort of noise, because one moment they’re laughing, arms pressed against each other, and the next they’re both looking up. At me.

Shit.

I try really hard not to let my eyes take in how cozy and comfortable he looks, how familiar and at ease. It’s nothing like what happens when he and I accidentally bump against each other in the hallway, like that charged, electric tension that seems to crackle between us when we forget ourselves and our hands happen to brush together. But that’s the point, right? Any physical contact between me and Liam is probably unwanted on his part, while this?.?.?.

This is mortifying. I want to get out of this room and never come back. Buy an insulated lunch bag and a camping stove, shove them in my bedroom, and be completely self-sufficient.

The woman, though, doesn’t seem nearly as unsettled, or self-conscious about the fact that she’s currently perched on a piece of furniture in a home that’s not hers, her skirt riding up to show long, toned legs. She smiles at me, and somehow, somewhere, I find my voice. “Sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt?.?.?. I wanted to get something to drink, and I?.?.?.” And I? And I will now go to my room to flush myself down the toilet. Good-bye, cruel world.

“I thought you’d be?.?.?.” Liam’s voice seems deeper than usual. I wonder if they were about to take whatever this is to his bedroom. Oh God. Oh God, I just interrupted my roommate and his girlfriend. I’m such a loser. “Out. I thought you’d be out.”

Oh. Right. I was supposed to go on a date myself. With Ted. Something I agreed to do the other day under the impetus of: meh, why not? This morning I told Liam why I’d be home late, except that I ended up canceling because?.?.?. I didn’t really feel like going.

For some reason.

That is unclear to me.

“No. I mean, yes. Yes, I was. But?.?.?.” I gesture vaguely in the air. As good an explanation as I can come up with.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I?.?.?.” I should really go to my room and do that self-flushing thing. But it’s hard, with Liam staring at me like that. Half-curious, half-happy to see me, half–something else. It’s the first time I find him with someone who’s not Calvin or another one of his dude friends he’s obviously known since forever, someone who’s clearly?.?.?. Okay. He’s on a date. With a woman. About to get laid, probably. And I interrupted. Shit.

“I’m?.?.?. I’m gonna go now, so you guys can—”

“No need,” a voice says.

A voice? Ah. Yes. Right. There is a third person in the room. A beautiful woman with long dark hair, who’s still sitting on the counter, glancing with captivated interest between me and Liam, and?.?.?.

“I was just about to leave,” she says. But it’s a lie. She was definitely not about to leave. “Right, Liam?” She and Liam exchange a silent, loaded look that I’d give half a kidney to be able to decipher.

“Oh, no. You don’t have to leave,” I say weakly. “I—”

“By the way, I’m going to introduce myself, since Liam here is clearly not going to.” She hops down with grace that I’ve seen only in ballet dancers and Olympic gymnasts before, and holds out her hand. I hate myself for trying to remember if it’s the same hand that was wrapped around Liam’s arm while her head was on his shoulder. “I’m Emma. You must be the famous Mara?”

Why she would know my name is an absolute mystery. Unless Emma and Liam are very serious, and then Liam would have mentioned his annoying roommate once or twice, and will you look at that? It appears that I just cannot bear the thought. “Yes. Um?.?.?. Nice to meet you.”

Emma’s handshake is cool and firm. She smiles briefly, nice and self-assured, then turns to pick up her jacket from a stool.

“Well. This was fun. Informative, too. Mara, I hope we’ll meet a ton more times. And you?.?.?.” She turns to Liam. Her voice drops lower, but I can still make out the words. “Cheer up, buddy. I don’t think you’re as doomed to a lifetime of pining as you think. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She’s not very tall and has to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek, one hand pressing against his abs for balance, and if Liam minds having her up in his space, he doesn’t show it. Then there is a friendly wave, directed at me this time, a cheerful “Good night,” the sound of her heels against the parquet flooring on her way to the entrance, and then—

Gone.

That noise was the front door opening and closing, which means that Liam and I are alone.

“Liam, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to?.?.?.”

“To?” He scratches the back of his neck, looking confused by my reaction. He’s still leaning against the counter, and I can’t make myself move away from the entrance. I can’t make myself continue and apologize for interrupting his date. I was going to leave. I promise. You guys could have continued in your room, Liam. I wouldn’t have minded.

Really.

“How did the presentation go?”

I look up from inspecting my shoes. “What?”

“Your presentation, today? For the lead position?”

“Ah.” Right. The presentation. The one I’ve been complaining about for days. The one I practiced with him yesterday. And the day before. The one he probably knows by heart. “Um, very good. Good. Well, okay. Passable.”

“It’s getting worse by the word.”

I wince. “It was?.?.?. I stumbled a bit.”

“I see.”

“But maybe I still did better than Sean?”

“Maybe?”

“Probably.”

Liam smiles. “Probably?”

I smile back. “Almost certainly.”

“What a speedy improvement.”

I chuckle, and he pushes away from the counter and comes to stand right in front of me. Like he wants to be closer for this conversation. Closer to me.

“It’s bad news for you, though,” I say.

“Is it?”

“If I get this position, you’re going to have to step up and find a new job, too.”

“Ah. Yes.”

“We made a deal.”

“A deal is a deal.”

“Also, after the interview they gave us information on the salary. It’s a big raise. I’ll definitely be able to move out.”

His eyes harden, then switch back to a neutral mask. “Right.”

“What?” I tease him. “You afraid you can’t afford to buy your own creamer?” What does he even use it for? I still don’t know.

“Just concerned I’ll have to watch Eileen make terrible life choices on my own.”

“Eileen knows what she’s doing. As I explained in my last blog post.”

“Which I have, of course, read.”

He’s not funny. He’s not that funny. I’m not half in love with his weird sense of humor. “I can’t believe you commented ‘delete your account.’ It’s cyberbullying, Liam.”

He is still smiling, and there is something warm unfurling in my chest now. Which really shouldn’t be there, because?.?.?. Because. “Are you and your friend?.?.?.??” I ask.

“My friend?”

“Emma.”

“Ah.”

Silence. I wring my hands, realizing that I haven’t really formulated a question. Is she your?.?.?. No. Too direct. Are you two dating? And what is this hiccup in my heart as I contemplate the thought? Maybe Liam has never mentioned a girlfriend. Or any girl. But what did I think? That he was living in celibacy? It’s not my business, anyway. We’re just friends. Good friends. But friends.

“What?” He gives me a long look, like I just asked a preposterous question that’s not grounded in reality. The reality that I just walked in on him PDAing her.

“I thought you two?.?.?.??”

“No.” He shakes his head once. Then he shakes it again. “No, Emma is?.?.?. We were in kindergarten together. And she?.?.?. No. We’re friends, good friends, but nothing like that.”

“Oh.” Oh? Really? No way. Way?

“We’re just friends,” he repeats again. Like he wants to make sure I know it. Like he’s afraid that I don’t believe him. Which, to be fair, I don’t. Look at her. Look at him. “She’s actually?.?.?. She knows that I?.?.?.” He wipes a hand down his face, like he always does when he’s overwhelmed or tired. It’s a gesture I’m seeing more of lately. Because Liam has been letting me see more of him. They’re not all bad, the sharp edges and deep grooves of this man’s personality. Unexpected, but not bad at all.

“Knows that you?”

“That I don’t usually?.?.?. I never?.?.?. Well, almost never, apparently?.?.?.” Liam shakes his head, as if to say Never mind, and I remain unsure as to what he almost never does, because he doesn’t continue and I’m not certain that I want to probe. Plus, he’s looking at me in a way I can’t understand, and I’m suddenly feeling like it’s time to skedaddle. “I’m gonna go to sleep, okay?” I smile. “I have an early morning, tomorrow.”

He nods. “Okay. Sure.” But when I’m almost out of the room, he calls after me. “Mara?”

I pause. Don’t turn around. “Yeah?”

“I?.?.?. Have a good night.”

It doesn’t sound like what he originally meant to say. But I answer, “You, too,” and run back to my room anyway.