Page 78 of Wants and Needs
“Is that usual?” Liam asks. “My parents have met them on multiple occasions, but having dinner with them?”
“They liked to hear Mum sing, so they asked for private concerts during Easter and Christmas.”
“I can’t say I blame them. Your mother really was an amazing singer.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, touched because I know he’s not just saying it, he believes it, and probably has facts to prove it. “Your mum is pretty amazing too,” I counter.
He shrugs carelessly, but I see a tiny smile tilting the right side of his lips.
“She loves holding all her Grammys over my father’s head.”
I snicker at that, but really like the way his eyes light up when he talks about his parents.
“Come sit on this side,” he says suddenly, and slides further into his bench.
“Why?” I ask, though I’m already moving to stand.
“Because that way I can hold your hand easier, and we can also speculate about all these other people coming into the restaurant and their lives.”
I’m surprised by that suggestion, but I do as he says, and love the way he grips my hand right away.
The rest of our time at the restaurant is spent trying to guess what other patrons do for a living and what their relationship is to the people dining with them.
It’s beyond fun, and it melts my heart when Liam confesses this is something he’s done with his parents since he was a child.
I still don’t think I’m good enough for Liam, but I’m also smart enough to not question him further, just like I’m smart enough to accept when he asks me to go back to his place.
Even while nerves buzz like live wires on my skin. I need to explain what I’m ready for, and since I’ve never had a conversation like that, I have no clue how to even start it, but I’ll find a way.
Somehow.
Even with the heat, the fading light of the afternoon is too nice to take a car that will be stuck in traffic for forty minutes.
Instead we agree to walk, and I marvel at how content Liam looks, at how much I enjoy the way he swings our interlocked hands.
When the second siren sounds, I squeeze his hand to get his attention and motion to my ear with my free hand.
“You can put your earbuds on if all this noise is bothering you.”
As if he hasn’t lived in New York for who knows how many years, he stops moving completely without any warning.
I pull on his hand when I notice a man who’s very preoccupied with his phone is about to crash into him. I can’t help but frown at the man as he keeps going without a care in the world.
“Watch it, arsehole,” I snap at him.
“Carter,” Liam whispers, cupping my cheek and pulling my gaze back to his. It’s then that I realize our chests are flush together. It feels... bloody amazing. And he only makes it more so by looking into my eyes and smiling softly. “You’re a good man, Carter Din,” he tells me, and then he kisses me again.
It’s our third kiss, I know, I know.
But somehow, I know I’ll lose count sooner than I’m ready for.
I know I’ll never tire of it, never have enough of Liam.
The shock of it has me gasping as I step back.
By the looks of it, Liam isn’t mad at my weird behavior. He smiles tenderly and just stares as the droves of people pass us by.
“You just raised the bar, Liam,” I tell him.
