Page 74 of False Confidence

Liam was quiet for a moment, but she heard his breathing quicken, felt his heart racing. “It was,” he said, finally. “It was a date. Are you okay with that?”

It was just a date. One date. And he was still here. He still wanted to be around her. She hadn’t fucked it up.

“I am okay with it, I think.”

Liam loosed a relieved sigh. “Good. I’m glad.”

“Maybe we could do more of that.”

“Going on dates?”

“Yeah. I’d like to.”

“Then we will.” He brushed her lips gently with his, and Jazz breathed him in. “Sleep time. You’re already going to be feeling rough in the morning, but I’ll take care of you.”

Jazz squinted between a flickering parking garage light, and Liam, sitting with eyes closed in the passenger seat of her car, wondering if she’d made a mistake bringing him here. Or, at the very least, surprising him. She’d considered blindfolding him, but they were already running later than planned (her fault) and she knew that bringing a blindfold into the mix would only delay them further.

“You can open your eyes.”

Liam’s emerald eyes fluttered open, his gaze falling to her face first, a soft smile on his lips. He must have recognized the parking garage in his peripheral vision, because his eyes immediately widened. Jazz drew her teeth between her lips.

“We’re going to the museum?” Liam asked, and Jazz couldn’t tell if he seemed happy or horrified by the date she’d planned. She swallowed.

“You said you missed it and I thought maybe if you didn’t have advance notice to stress about coming back, it would be better. But if you don’t want to?—”

“I want to. This is perfect. Thank you,” Liam said, and Jazz let out a relieved breath.

“In that case…” She leaned down to rummage in her purse, in the footwell by Liam’s shoes. Confusion filled his eyes when she withdrew a crumpled old Washington State University ball cap and placed it on his head. “It’s your disguise,” she explained. “You know, in case you run into any of your old colleagues you don’t want to talk to. I know mustaches are the traditional disguise, but I didn’t think that would work.”

Liam chuckled, tugging on the brim until his face was hidden in shadows. “What’s the verdict?”

She looked him over, her fingers aching to reach out and grasp his face. How did he always look this good? “God damn it,” she answered with a sigh.

“Let me guess—fucking Michaelsons?” His mouth quivered on the edge of a smirk.

“Something like that,” she grumbled. “Come on. Let’s go in before we do something illegal in a parking garage.”

Liam trailed her to the elevator, wrapping his arms around her from behind as the doors slid closed, and resting his chin on her head. “I’m glad we’re doing this.”

“The museum?”

“The date,” he replied, tilting his face to kiss the top of her head. “But the museum too.”

Jazz swallowed, unable to ignore the contentment in his voice. Liam had been taking care of her for weeks, making her feel safe and comfortable and cared for, and he seemed to do it all with ease. It shouldn’t have taken her so long to do something for him.

A wall of noise assaulted them when the elevator doors slid open, chattering families and squealing children running around the entrance hall. The line at the ticket desk was almost to the door, and Jazz was grateful she’d had the foresight, for once, to buy their tickets online.

“Is it always this busy on Sundays?” she asked Liam, flashing the QR codes on her phone to the ticket attendant. He scanned them and waved them through.

“Yeah, but it’s really just the family exhibits that are busy. The rest is usually quiet.”

Jazz nodded, staring up at the grand staircase in awe. Sunlight streamed through a wall of windows, illuminating a stunning arched ceiling, smooth stone sculptures, and steps leading to the third floor.

“Pretty impressive, right?” Liam asked, correctly interpreting her wowed silence.

“It’s gorgeous.”

“What do you want to see first?”

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