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“Possessive, more like. I thought maybe you would have grown out of that by now but I see nothing’s changed,” he said with a big smirk.
Sophie cocked a smile. “Yeah well, when the right one comes along, I’m sure I’ll be more than welcoming. But until that one does come along…” She slashed her hand across her throat.
“Off with her head. We’ll see…” Liam’s tone was light, teasing. He saw his chance. For once, she was relaxed, speaking freely, and he wasn’t about to let the moment slip away. “So, uh, you never called me back.”
“What do you mean?” she said casually.
She knew damn well what he meant, and he knew it. And he knew that she knew that he knew. She may not want to get into the nitty gritty tonight, but she was going to—whether she liked it or not. He shifted his body to face hers and leaned back against the arm of the sofa. “At Christmas, I left you a message. You never called me back.”
Sophie looked away then back again. There was no getting around his question. She took a sip of her drink and nodded as she swallowed. “I’m sorry,” she sighed.“The truth is,” she held her hand up in front of her as of holding onto something. “I heard it when you called. I held the phone in my hand, trying to decide whether to answer. Then it was too late, and you left that message… I couldn’t bring myself to call back. I didn’t know what to say.” There she told the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
“You might have said Merry Christmas.”
“Yeah, that would have been good, wouldn’t it?” she smiled a little in jest. “I’m really sorry I didn’t answer.”
“I know you are.”
“I almost called you a few times, but I chickened out and then got so busy with the pub that I hardly had time to think about anything else.”
Excuses, excuses. “If you nearly called me so many times, why have you been avoiding me?”
Sophie was about to protest but there was no point. He knew her too well. “Because it’s you. Liam, you and I we were kids when we said and did all those things. I’m not that same girl anymore.”
His wine glass was still empty, and he desperately wanted a refill.
“Perhaps not. I’m not the same as I was either.”
Sure, he was. He still had the kindest eyes of anyone.
“More brandy? Or something else?”
“Just a splash. I don’t want to get too drunk.”
“Yes, it’s a bit soon in our—reconnection shall we call it?—for Her Royal Highness to make an appearance,” he said with a wink and a grin.
“God is there anything youdon’tremember?”
He didn’t say anything. All he did was smile at her with a twinkle in his eye. No, there was nothing he didn’t remember and nothing he didn’t adore about Sophie.
Sophie laughed and stood then followed him back to the kitchen counter and watched him pour her a “splash” of brandy. When he handed her glass back, their fingers touched for the second time that evening. It was hardly a brush, a whisper, but she hesitated. Not because she felt a spark or a shiver. It was warm, familiar, and comfortable.
“Do I make you uneasy now?” he asked.
“No, you don’t. Not at all.” Not even a little.
He returned to the sofa and made himself comfortable leaving Sophie at the counter. As he sat down, he said, “Will you answer one question, please? For old times sake?”
She leaned back against the counter, resting her elbows. “All right. Shoot.”
“Why him but not me?”
“What do you mean?” And there it was. She wondered when he would bring this up.
“Come on, Soph…”
“Fine. Yes, I know. Why did I go on a date with... I don’t remember his name.”
Liam remained quiet waiting for an answer. He didn’t give a damn what the loser’s name was.
