Page 39 of How to Write a Rom-Com

Liam turns his whole body to face me and leans one hand against the car, so that his arm is caging in one side of my head. It could be claustrophobic, but instead, it’s extremely attractive.

“You know you don’t have me fooled, right?”

I raise my chin to meet his eyes. “What?” The word comes out with a shaky exhale.

“You make jokes to deflect. It usually works for you, but I’m catching on,” he looks down at me. He pushes his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and purses his lips to the side.

I see his eyes moving side to side behind his glasses, and I want to ask what he is thinking. I wonder if he wants to kiss me but is holding back. He moves an inch—the movement is so subtle that I almost don’t catch it, but it’s like we’re opposite ends of a magnet, pulling and pushing at one another, unable to meet.

A sound escapes Liam’s throat, something between one of his signature grunts and a moan.

It’s at that moment that I realize how muchIwant to kisshim. Yes, he’s gorgeous, and yes, I’ve been attracted to him from the moment we met, but the more I’ve come to know him, the more my body wants to reach for him. It’s as if my heart is literally guiding me to him, like he’s an anchor on some imaginary finish line, pulling me closer and closer.

Suddenly, he leans back, and I feel an emptiness around me, and I’m exposed to the elements. Back to reality.

Liam looks away and clears his throat. “Ready, Freddie?”

I smile. “My aunt always says that.” Liam smiles back as he holds his hand out to me.

“So, shall we?” he asks. Blue looks at me expectantly, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.

“We shall.”

That’s the truth of how easy it is. One step. Then another. Winnie the Pooh always said that he got to where he was going by walking away from where he’s been, right? What if it was really that simple? What if all I had to do to make a change for myself was take one step forward?

So, I do.

We manage to make it half a mile up the wooded path before Liam breaks our silence.

“It’s about three miles up to where we’re going,” he says, letting Blue lead the way for us.

“And will there be snacks at the top of this mountain?” I ask, trying to hide the fact that I’m already out of breath. I really need to go to the gym more.

“I think I know you well enough at this point to know the only way you won’t push me off this mountain is if I feed you at the top,” he says with a knowing smile.

“I don’t think there’s anything inaccurate in that statement,” I say confidently. I stick my tongue out at him too.

Liam slows his pace and allows me to catch up once we’ve made it onto more level footing. We’re surrounded by towering trees without a person in sight, so this really would be the perfect place to kill someone. I need to stop watching so many scary movies. Why does my brain keep going there?!

Blue matches Liam’s stride and finds a place in between us. He seems to know where he’s going. “Do you two come up here a lot?” I ask, as if I’m expecting either one of them to answer.

“Probably once a month, I’d say. Blue needs all the exercise he can get, otherwise he does zoomies around the house. This will tire him out for a few days, at least,” Liam replies, patting the dog’s head.And me, I think, trying to take an inconspicuous deep breath.

“Something tells me that you’re not used to going out of your comfort zone a lot,” Liam says, and I’m caught off guard by his question.

“I traveled by myself to this town, didn’t I?” I remind him.

“That’s true, but you also hesitated to hike up a mountain with me,” he replies. He brushes his hair off his face and shrugs.

“Hey, I don’t think that’s fair,” I say. I stop walking, the mulch crunching beneath my feet. “You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

“Then prove me wrong,” he says, not slowing down his pace. I note that that’s the second time that he’s said that to me. I think he’s playing a game with me, and I don’t know if I like it.

“Ugh,” I grunt, annoyed. I take a few quick steps to catch up with his long stride. “You know, this is exactly the type of cat-and-mouse game that a murderer would play,” I mumble.

“Seriously, I’m concerned about where your mind goes,” he says, shaking his head.

I catch up to him and our steps fall into sync. “I will have you know that I do go out of my comfort zone.”

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