Page 34

We arrive at the restaurant just a few minutes before six and are greeted as warmly as last time by the hostess. Her eyes go directly to our linked hands, and I don’t miss her eyebrows rising dramatically before she schools her expression.

She asks Liam if he’d prefer a booth tonight, and I stay quiet, leaving it up to him. It does surprise me, though, when he says yes.

“Is it safe to assume this is a date?” he asks quietly when we’ve both slid onto opposite benches.

“I’m treating it as a date, yes,” I confirm.

“Okay.”

He nods once, then proceeds to chew his bottom lip in the most distracting way imaginable.

I don’t think that’s his intention, though.

.. to distract me. I think he’s debating something with himself.

I don’t know if I should ask, there’s still so much I need to learn about Liam, but the prospect makes me excited.

I’m not dreading the first-date questions that would normally have me groaning.

“So does that mean we’re dating? Is this... serious for you?”

I take a moment to consider my answer, because?—

“This is all new for me.” The only way to ensure I don’t hurt Liam is to always tell him the truth. And to never betray him, of course, but that’s just common sense.

“You said you’d never been in a relationship before.” His frown isn’t particularly angry, and given his reaction to my earlier statement about checking out other men, I think this might please him.

“I haven’t, no. I have had some... arrangements,” I hedge, and Liam’s answering smirk has a stupid blush blooming on my cheeks.

“I’m thirty-six years old and not innocent by any means, Carter. You can say fuck buddies,” he says like he’s indulging me.

It’s the first moment since I’ve met Liam that I feel the seven years between us. I feel so inexperienced—it’s disconcerning.

“Right,” I say quietly, and look away as I clear my throat. “So that’s the extent of my experience with any type of romantic commitment.”

“No experience, then,” he concludes.

I only nod that time. There’s not much more I can say.

“I believe my experience won’t be helpful in this case,” he says quietly. “Dirk knew he was queer all his life, and he had a lot more experience than me when we met. ”

I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek, hating every single word he just said.

“We need to stop talking about him now,” I declare.

Liam’s rightfully confused and frowns harder as he scans my face. I’m thinking of some way to explain away that reaction when he starts laughing and shaking his head at me. Then he reaches over and pats my hand.

“I think one thing we can agree on right now is that we’re exclusive?” he asks, still smiling. And though I seriously like the way it transforms his handsome face, even makes him look a few years younger, it feels like he’s indulging me again, and I’m not sure I love that.

“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. “That we can agree on.”

“Good, so let’s just enjoy dinner and we’ll figure out everything later.”

“When you say figure out...” I trail off, not wanting to insult him in any way, but I’m not sure what I’m ready for.

I’m loving the hand-holding and kissing—it was amazing—but thinking about doing anything else, while exciting, is daunting.

“Research,” Liam says, surprising me with an even more blinding smile. Looks like he’s really liking that idea.

This time I’m the one laughing.

“I forgot for a second there how big a nerd you are.” My words are soft, and before he can ask, I explain further. “And I mean that in the best way. I like how smart you are.”

And the blush that appears slowly on his cheeks as he looks away?

I love that .

“I don’t know what to say to that,” he mumbles, making me chuckle again.

“You don’t have to say anything at all,” I assure him.

“Eventually I will have to say something ,” he stresses, and I smile automatically when his gaze returns to me. “This is our first date, and I know the implication of that. It sets the tone for the relationship.”

“That’s too much pressure to put on any one interaction,” I counter. “We already know each other very well, Liam. This is just us hanging out and maybe finding out more about each other.”

As I talk, the nerves I had about this being our first date slowly disappear.

What I just said is true. We already know each other, we already like each other—a lot considering the change in our normal behavior.

This is my first date in so many years that counting would be depressing, and also my first date ever with a man.

And this is only the second time Liam has sought a romantic relationship.

So we’re both going out on a limb here.

“I’ll try to switch to that mindset,” Liam whispers, and it only occurs to me then that he might not be able to think of this as something else like switching on a light.

“If you can’t, then just know you can tell me anything, okay?” I say quietly, and flip my hand over to grip his tightly. “I’m not going to ever stop you from telling me how you feel.”

“Thank you.” He looks less uncertain when our gazes meet, and our silence is only broken when the waiter arrives and asks us what we’d like to drink.

Like last time, we order still water and then a lasagna to share.

Since I used that break to think of a way to get Liam out of his head, I have a question ready when the waiter steps away.

“What is one thing about you that you think others would find surprising?”

And yeah, I did edit the wording on that while I was thinking about it.

“That’s a good question,” Liam murmurs, but he also reaches across the booth to take my hand again, and I actually like this habit of his of wanting to touch some part of me. “I guess the insurance on my hearing applies here.”

“Wha-what?” I sputter out between chuckles. “That is really unusual.”

“Well,” he says, shrugging. “I have perfect pitch, but also, in theory, my livelihood depends on my hearing, because thankfully insurance companies don’t consider Ludwig van Beethoven to be a precedent.” That only has me laughing harder.

The way he smiles at me makes me think he was trying to be funny that time.

“Wait,” I say as a thought occurs to me. “Does that mean I could insure my sight?”

“I think so.” He nods while he reaches over to the glasses the waiter sets on our table.

“You said in theory,” I remember. “What does that mean?”

“Well, if ESoothe is successful, then I won’t be able to claim my hearing is the reason I can do my job on a new policy. But also, I don’t need my hearing to hear music.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, my whisper betraying my fascination as I lean forward.

“It just means I can close my eyes and hear any song I remember the notes to. I don’t need to listen to hear it.”

“That’s incredible,” I whisper, but he just shrugs.

“It can be, but it’s not a helpful skill for real life.”

“I guess,” I murmur, and leave it at that even though I want to press the matter of how incredible he is. But he clearly isn’t enjoying talking about it as much as I am.

“What about you?” he asks, and repeats my first question when I just stare blankly at him. “What is one thing about you that you think others would find surprising?”

“Oh.” I don’t know why I’m surprised he asked. “I think if my friends knew I’d had dinner with the royal family twice a year from when I was born until I was seventeen and my mother retired, they’d find that strange.”

“Is that usual?” Liam asks. “My parents have met them on multiple occasions, but having dinner with them?”

“They liked to hear Mum sing, so they asked for private concerts during Easter and Christmas.”

“I can’t say I blame them. Your mother really was an amazing singer.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, touched because I know he’s not just saying it, he believes it, and probably has facts to prove it. “Your mum is pretty amazing too,” I counter.

He shrugs carelessly, but I see a tiny smile tilting the right side of his lips .

“She loves holding all her Grammys over my father’s head.”

I snicker at that, but really like the way his eyes light up when he talks about his parents.

“Come sit on this side,” he says suddenly, and slides further into his bench.

“Why?” I ask, though I’m already moving to stand.

“Because that way I can hold your hand easier, and we can also speculate about all these other people coming into the restaurant and their lives.”

I’m surprised by that suggestion, but I do as he says, and love the way he grips my hand right away.

The rest of our time at the restaurant is spent trying to guess what other patrons do for a living and what their relationship is to the people dining with them.

It’s beyond fun, and it melts my heart when Liam confesses this is something he’s done with his parents since he was a child.

I still don’t think I’m good enough for Liam, but I’m also smart enough to not question him further, just like I’m smart enough to accept when he asks me to go back to his place.

Even while nerves buzz like live wires on my skin. I need to explain what I’m ready for, and since I’ve never had a conversation like that, I have no clue how to even start it, but I’ll find a way.

Somehow.

Even with the heat, the fading light of the afternoon is too nice to take a car that will be stuck in traffic for forty minutes.

Instead we agree to walk, and I marvel at how content Liam looks, at how much I enjoy the way he swings our interlocked hands .

When the second siren sounds, I squeeze his hand to get his attention and motion to my ear with my free hand.

“You can put your earbuds on if all this noise is bothering you.”

As if he hasn’t lived in New York for who knows how many years, he stops moving completely without any warning.

I pull on his hand when I notice a man who’s very preoccupied with his phone is about to crash into him. I can’t help but frown at the man as he keeps going without a care in the world.

“Watch it, arsehole,” I snap at him.