Page 45 of Wants and Needs
“Yes, that’s where he said you were drunk?” Liam asks, and his frown is firmly back.
“Exactly,” I cry, triumph filling me. “Did you live in New York then? With all your fancy Harvard degrees I suppose you were in Boston for some years, yeah?”
“I was already living in New York,” Liam nods. “And actually I was in the Hamptons too. Not at the wedding of course, but we went for the weekend.”
“I think we have the ‘where’ for our story,” I tell him, feeling some of the dread—very little, but some—leave me. “We can just say you went to pick up your parents and that’s how we met?”
“That could work. Dirk would never believe I went to a stranger’s wedding,” he mutters.
“Then maybe let’s say I asked you to come by the gallery during the week?”
“Yes, closer to the truth, I suppose.”
“The best lies always are,” I tell him, leaning slightly forward and winking.
Liam’s reaction, a deeper frown, makes me feel like a bloody idiot, but I soldier through.
“So you came by the gallery and then we went to dinner just like yesterday.” Liam nods. “Right, so you know a lot about my friends already, about my life. And I know a lot about you too, so I think we’re safe in that regard.” I look down at my notes and ask the next question. “Why did we start dating?”
“Because you’re patient and understanding and a good person,” Liam says immediately.
“You’re a good person too,” I tell him seriously.
“Do you think that’s enough of a reason?”
“I do. And anyone who asks will probably only want either of us to say something sappy and sentimental, so you leave that to me.” I only get a nod, so I keep going. “Why do we love each other?” I ask, and my breath stalls, but Milton comes in and that’s the perfect distraction.
He’s made tapas, brought a pitcher of chilled water, and leaves after we thank him.
We’re filling our small plates when Liam speaks.
“I think love just happens,” he starts, surprising me into stillness. “I understand that there are reasons, but loving someone shouldn’t be a reward, not for something someone does, but because you can’t help it.”
His tone is small enough to let me know he’s not pulling this out of his arse. He knows this.
From experience.
With the Dick.
I still cannot understand how the fuck that’s possible, but again, I bite my tongue.
“You should say exactly that if someone asks you why you love me,” I tell him, with a small smile he hopefully understands is pleased and maybe just a little teasing. “I never thought you’d be the sentimental sort.”
Liam’s snort has me relaxing.
“My parents are poets, Carter,” he says and rolls his eyes sassily.
I can’t help but smile.
I’m starting to get tiny glimpses of who Liam really is.
At least the side of Liam that only comes out when he’s truly comfortable.
I’m not prepared for how big it feels, that privilege, that... protectiveness. He trusts me, and even though he said he did all those weeks back at The Storm Ranch, it’s starting to sink in, and it only reinforces my determination to do this right.
“All right, poet Liam,” I say, my voice scratchy. I clear my throat and get back to it. “What are your pet peeves?” I try to smirk again, but my smile comes out soft.
“Well, you know all about the noise.” He waves a hand in my direction.
