Page 115 of Not That Impossible

He firmed the hand at my waist in a quick squeeze. “Come on. I’m cooking. Stay for dinner.”

Whaaaat was happening?

Liam headed off and I trailed after him.

“What are you cooking?” I said, sniffing the air. I was starving.

“Pizza. Sound good?”

It sounded bizarre.Hello. Come in. Stay for pizza.

Even my wildest imaginings about Liam hadn’t included such things.

“Soundsfantastic,” I said, with way too much enthusiasm.

Liam turned to look at me, and there it was, still. His face was…fond? He gave me a thorough examination from head to toe, and back up. His smile grew.

“What?” I burst out. “What is happening? I don’t—”

“Shush,” he said. “Sit down.”

Liam had a small central island in his kitchen, with high stools tucked neatly away. I dragged one out and sat with my hands primly in my lap.

“Wine?” he asked.

“No, thanks. I’m driving.” Now didn’t seem like a good moment to tell him that the last time I drank alcohol was at his wedding.

Liam took down a pint glass from one of the cupboards, filled it with water from the fancy dispenser in his fridge, and brought it over. “This okay? I’ve noticed you’re always drinking water.”

“Hydration is important,” I told him. “Thank you, I—” I choked when instead of moving back, he nudged my knees apart and stood between them. He lifted my chin with a firm hand at my jaw.

I gazed up at him.

“You have the biggest, roundest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life,” he said. “Such a beautiful deep dark brown.” He ran a thumb over my parted lips and I sucked in a sharp breath. “Always so needy when you look at me.”

Needy?That didn’t sound flattering. “Are you being mean?” I asked uncertainly.

He shook his head. His gaze tracked from my eyes—which probablywerebig and round, because frankly they were bugging out of my head at this point—and rested on my lips. He dragged his thumb back and forth, back and forth, watching it with intense focus.

All the tension in my body suddenly released, and I made an awful wanting sound. “Liam,” I said desperately, catching his wrist.

As if he’d been waiting for it, he leaned down, angling my face up. He murmured against my mouth, “Can I kiss you?”

“You can always kiss me,” I said. “You must know that. You must.”

“Mm.”

The kiss was soft, gentle, and sweet. He had one hand at my jaw; the other cupped the back of my head. He brushed his mouth lazily over mine until I was gasping.

He pulled back and we stared at each other.

Of course that’s when the oven timer went off.

Liam dropped a quick kiss on my forehead, and crossed over to the oven.

I continued to stare at him as he took the pizza out and set it on the counter. While he got out the pizza wheel and expertly sliced through it, I discreetly put two fingers to my neck and checked my pulse.

Okay, shit.

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