Page 45 of Two Weeks in Tahoe

“It’s a possibility. Picture it-best friends falling for our best friends’ best friends. That’s a tale as old as time.”

Daniela looks like she’s trying to work that out in her head for a moment, then cackles. Dex continues. “Pretty sure you couldn’t handle all of this, though.” He says, gesturing to his tall frame. He’s at least six-foot-two. A tall, tattooed man is Daniela’s weakness.

“Where are you from?” she questions Dex, keeping her gaze locked on him. Liam and I exchange glances, quietly amused as we sip our wine and observe. Jackson is nearby on the couch, entirely absorbed in his binder of cards, blissfully unaware of the grown-up drama unfolding around him.

“Tahoe,” Dex replies, crossing his arms with a serious expression, like it’s a test.

“Where are your parents from?”

“Tahoe,” he answers again, mirroring her intensity.

“Where are your grandparents from?”

“Hawaii.”

“Why aren’t you spending Thanksgiving with your family if they’re from here?” Daniela narrows her eyes, assessing him.

“Went there first. They eat way too early,” Dex says simply, patting his flat belly.

She squints at him. “Hmm.”

“Where are you from?” Dex fires back, turning the tables.

“Grew up in Sacramento. Born in Florida. Parents are also from Florida. Have a grandparent from Spain, another from Switzerland, and some more from Florida. Oh, and I like chocolate chips in my pancakes. Does that cover everything?”

“Hmm,” Dex echoes, copying her mannerisms.

Liam cuts in, finally breaking the odd tension. “Okay, now that you guys have gotten to know each other…Daniela, can I get you a drink?”

The next hour is filled with laughter as we share stories from our childhoods. Everyone has a good laugh about how Liam and I met nearly ten years ago, looked for each other and failed miserably, then ran into each other again by a twist of fate and were too chicken to bring it up. I laugh along with them. Young Liam flashes through my mind. I can’t help but think of that kind, cute boy who managed to make my heart race—who’s now standing beside me, taller, wiser, and somehow even more captivating.

Eventually, Liam’s parents finally arrive. They greet me with welcoming, friendly smiles and I immediately feel any lingering nerves dissolve. Liam’s mom and I fall into conversation, bonding over the house, the town—this place that holds so much history for her family as well. I realize how special this place is to her, and to all of them. The whole house feels filled with the memories they’ve built here. And tonight, in this place so dear to their hearts, I feel like I’m adding a piece of my own story into the mix. I offer her my sympathies over her lost daughter and son-in-law, and she takes my hand, offering her genuine sympathy over my parents as well. We tear up together just a little, and then move on to lighter topics.

Liam finally announces that dinner is ready, and we all make our way to the table. He’s prepared an incredible feast, and while I take no credit for my small addition to the spread, he tries to bring attention to my casserole, praising me in front of everyone for it. I shake my head, laughing at his absurdity. He blew everyone away with this meal, and it had nothing to do with my shitty casserole.

Dinner goes smoothly, and the conversation flows freely, aside from a few disagreements between Dex and Daniela. We were not wrong about them.

We finish up with dessert—pies of all varieties—then clear the table and raise our glasses for a celebratory post-dinner toast.

“To second chances,” Liam proclaims, staring into my damn soul from across the kitchen. I hear murmurs around me, but I can’t tell how anyone reacts. All I see is Liam, taking a sip from his drink, eyes still on me. I follow suit, holding his gaze.

Everyone disperses, and Liam makes his way over to me. We don’t say anything. He simply smiles at me, kisses my cheek, and wraps an arm around my waist. His parents settle on the couch, and I doubt they make it much longer. They’re staying in one of the guest rooms that’s actually their old bedroom. Liam explained to me before that he couldn’t bring himself to take over his parents’ old master bedroom when he took over the house. Too weird. I didn’t blame him. So, he kept his old room.

For the rest of the night, Liam hardly leaves my side. Whether we’re talking with his parents or Jackson or playing games with Dex and Daniela, he’s always beside me with a gentle hand on my back or thigh. I sense he’s holding onto me a little tighter tonight, and that thought puts a knot in my stomach. It makes me think he’s already dreading the very near future, when I’ll be leaving, and he doesn’t want to let me go. I’m not afraid of the closeness, though. I’m embracing it and giving it right back.

We’re in the middle of a heated game of Uno and Dex and Daniela are at each other’s throats like two bulls constantly butting heads. It’s entertaining to watch. Jackson keeps beating all of us, even though Liam occasionally slides me a card under the table to help me win. I squeeze his knee in thanks each time and he looks at me with a mischievous grin.

“That doesn’t even match the color or the number!” Daniela hollers at Dex.

He laughs and takes the card back, putting up a new one. “Oops.” There’s a glint in his eye, and I’m sure he’s doing it on purpose just to get another rise out of her.

She huffs, shaking her head in bewilderment.

By eleven, Jackson is fast asleep on the couch. He made it later than his grandparents, who excused themselves shortly after ten. I follow Liam as he carries Jackson to bed. The way he sets him down so gently, tucks the blankets around him snugly, and brushes the hair off his forehead with such tenderness has me melting in the doorway as I watch him. I don’t know if Liam ever planned on being a father, but he’s doing a damn good job of it anyway. It takes a village, as they say, and he has one. I’m so glad he does.

Liam slowly closes the door behind him, and we’re left in the dim hallway. He glances at me for a moment, not saying anything, though his intense gaze seems to be saying a thousand words. His strong jaw, which is covered in dark stubble, twitches as he holds back all the thoughts I can see swirling in his eyes.

I lean against the wall, breathless and glued to the spot. I know the moment has finally come. The conversation I’ve been avoiding, dreading, is about to happen, and I’m terrified.

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