They don’t make these purses phone-sized. It’s all I can do to wedge my cell in next to the mints, the tissues, the lip gloss, and my house key already in there.
Once I’m ready, I grab his hand and drag him outside, waving goodbye to Kam and Aubrey. He looks incredible in his dark suit. He’s freshly shaved and he got a haircut today. I was in such a hurry to get him out of the apartment, I didn’t really look at him until this moment.
Liam takes my hand, but while I’m looking at him under the glow of my porch light, he keeps his gaze out at the view, his lipspressed together. Nobody comes out here to admire our parking lot and dumpster. Which means he’s not really looking at anything. He’s in his head.
“I thought I was the one who was supposed to be worried about tonight. Is everything okay?”
He turns and takes me in, and a sigh leaves him. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look?”
“I saw it in your face when I walked out to save you from Aubrey and Kam, but you haven’t looked at me since.” Well, until now. He’s definitely looking at me now.
“Sometimes attraction hits me so hard that I can’t think straight. My instinct is to panic. Like I’m being a bad boss for noticing you, and people will see it.”
“Well, this is no good. You’re guilty and I’m gid—”
Liam dips his head down and kisses me, summarily cutting off my rant. His hand cups my cheek before sliding into my hair, and I melt into him, gripping the lapels of his jacket and holding on for dear life. He’s too good at this. If he ruins my updo, it will be money well spent. He’s certainly not unsure about anything when he’s kissing me.
I rest my palm against his white shirt under his jacket and feel his heartbeat speeding up while our mouths slow down into something more intentional, a conversation where he acknowledges everything he’s feeling, and I reassure him that his heart is safe with me.
“We should go,” he murmurs against my lips.
“We should.” I slide my hands off his chest and reach up to check my hair. Luckily, the style they did at the salon has flexibility to it, more Hollywood glam than prom night. The side sweep, held up by a crystal hair clip, looks as good as ever when I check it with my phone camera.
“I’ll try not to touch your hair again,” he says with a guilty grin.
“Worth it,” I sing out quietly, moving down the walkway and carefully taking the stairs down one at a time. I’m not used to navigating them in heels.
I’m a little more nervous once we’re in his car on the way to the restaurant. “How do your parents really feel about mecoming? Don’t give me the sugar-coated version.”
Liam drums his hands across the steering wheel. “If they have an opinion on it, they’re not telling me. I called them again after I talked to Esther, who, as you know, was like, ‘of course I set you guys up. Why was that even a question?’ It’s hard to surprise Esther. She truly believes anything is possible, and not in the motivational poster kind of way.”
His description of her makes me laugh. It doesn’t bother me to think about the two of them together anymore. It’s part of his past, and every time he shares it with me, I feel more tightly woven into his life.
“Was it her idea to elope?”
Liam looks at me. “My idea, but she ran with it. We had Wyatt right away. So many big life decisions that hit me all at once. I don’t think I really grew up until I held him, all scrawny, red, and helpless.”
“Were your parents excited to be grandparents?”
“Having Wyatt meant I was tied to Esther forever. Not something they were overjoyed about. They were cautiously supportive. They sent us a card and a really nice bassinet. They didn’t come visit.”
“I don’t expect you to choose between me and your family, but—”
“I’d choose you. Every time.” He says it so casually. No hesitation.
“Liam!”
“I chose Esther over them. That’s what you do when you’re a husband. The reason it didn’t work out was because she didn’t choose me. Rosie, I have your back. Always. I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t. You don’t need to dazzle anyone tonight, but I think you will anyway.”
I reach for his hand across the console, and he takes mine, lacing our fingers together.
“I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” I murmur.
“Probably. This isn’t me asking you to elope, by the way.”
“Good. My parents would kill me. They like you, but they should probably get to know you better.”
“Have you told them about us?”