Page 40 of The Dating Coach
I wondered if that applied to more than just chemistry exams. Maybe it was time to stop running from the complicated, messy, absolutely real thing building between us.
After the exam, I promised myself. After I proved I could handle the academic pressure. After Mia's birthday made her legally safe. After, after, after.
As I drifted toward sleep, I could still feel the phantom pressure of Liam's hand on my back, could hear the certainty in his voice when he promised he wasn't going anywhere. Maybe 'after' was just another word for 'afraid.' And maybe I was tired of being afraid.
Chapter 19: Liam
The chlorine scent of the campus pool at 6 AM should have been unpleasant, but it had become oddly comforting over the past few weeks. I'd started swimming laps on mornings when sleep eluded me, which lately was most mornings. Today, with Gemma's organic chemistry exam looming in three hours, I'd given up on rest entirely.
My phone sat on the pool deck, face-up in case of emergency. I'd already checked it twelve times since arriving, drafting and deleting texts to Gemma. "Good luck" seemed insufficient. "You've got this" felt presumptuous. "I'm falling in love with you" was definitely off the table.
I pushed off the wall for another lap, trying to exhaust the nervous energy that had nothing to do with my own life and everything to do with a pre-med student who'd become essential to my daily existence. The water was different from ice – more forgiving but less predictable. Like Gemma herself, I thought, then immediately groaned at my own melodrama.
"You're thinking too loud," a voice called from the pool deck.
I surfaced to find Henry standing there in sweats, looking amused. "How did you know I'd be here?"
"Because you've been swimming every morning you're stressed about Gemma," he said, sitting on the bleachers. "Which is basically every morning."
"I'm not stressed about Gemma," I protested, then immediately undermined myself by checking my phone again.
"Right. That's why you made Frank and me practice organic chemistry problems last night to make sure your teaching methods were sound." Henry's grin was knowing. "Face it, Cap. You're invested."
Invested. Such a mild word for the way my chest tightened every time she smiled, how her struggles had become mine without conscious decision. Three months ago, I'd been coasting through life, accepting whatever came my way. Now I was actively fighting for someone else's success, and the transformation should have been jarring.
Instead, it felt like finally waking up.
"She's going to pass," I said, needing to voice the certainty. "She knows the material backwards and forwards."
"Of course she is," Henry agreed easily. "But that's not what you're worried about."
I hauled myself out of the pool, accepting the towel he offered. "Then what am I worried about?"
"That once she passes and Mia turns eighteen, your excuse for being in each other's lives disappears." He studied me with uncomfortable perception. "That you'll go back to being the passive guy who lets life happen to him instead of the one who's been actively pursuing something meaningful."
The accuracy of his assessment made me sink onto the bench beside him. Over the past weeks, I'd changed in ways that had nothing to do with dating lessons and everything to do with choosing to show up. For Gemma, for myself. The thought of reverting to my old patterns – waiting for others to make decisions, following paths laid out by my father – felt impossible now.
"I don’t even know how to start the conversation," I admitted.
Henry chuckled. "You need to address whatever this is between you two. Don't make the same mistake you did with Hailey."
"When did you get so insightful about relationships?"
"Since I started dating and realized that actually pursuing what you want is terrifying but worth it." He paused. "You know what your problem is?"
"I have a feeling you're going to tell me."
"You're treating this like you're still the same passive guy who watched Hailey choose Gabe. But you're not." He gestured broadly. "Look at what you've done. You offered your home to Mia without hesitation. You learned organic chemistry teaching methods to help Gemma. You stood up to Devon at the gala. You've been actively choosing her every day for months. That's not passive, Liam. That's pursuit."
My phone buzzed before I could answer. A text from Frank:Mia's freaking out about Gemma freaking out. Intervention needed. Bring coffee.
"Duty calls?" Henry asked, reading my expression.
"Always," I said, but I was already moving, purpose replacing anxiety.
Thirty minutes later, I stood outside Gemma's apartment with a tray of coffee and what the bakery had optimistically called "brain food" muffins. Mia answered the door looking frazzled.
"Thank god," she said, grabbing the coffee tray. "She's been pacing and muttering about electron configurations for anhour. I tried to help, but apparently, I don't understand the gravity of the situation."
