Page 32 of Liam
As the door clicks shut, the silence feels like a blessing. I run a hand through my hair, turning back to the mirror. “Okay, Liam,” I mutter. “You’ve got this. It’s just a few dates. Easy.”
My fingers fumble with the cufflink, and I'm back in that dimly lit library corner.
Aleria's pulse races under my touch, her skin flushed and warm. Her teeth graze her lower lip, stifling a moan as my fingers trace forbidden paths. The scent of old books mingles with her perfume. It’s intoxicating.
The ghost of her breath whispers against my neck, and I swallow hard, tugging at my collar.
“Focus,” I growl, meeting my gaze in the mirror. But the memory lingers, a phantom touch that refuses to fade, even as I prepare for a date with someone else.
I arrive at Bella Notte at 7:28 PM, adjusting my suitcoat as I scan the sidewalk. My rehearsed greeting evaporates as I spot Sofia approaching. She’s a vision in a deep blue dress that makes her eyes sparkle like sapphires.
“Wow,” I breathe. “You look beautiful, Sofia. I feel underdressed now. Should I go home and change into my formal sweatpants?”
Sofia laughs, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Don’t you dare, Liam. You look great. Though I’d love to see these formal sweatpants sometime.”
As we enter the restaurant—a cozy Italian place I researched for its “normal date” ambiance—I mentally run through my checklist. Be charming. Be funny. Don’t talk about her brows.
My eyes dart around until I locate Marcus seated at a corner table, pretending to be engrossed in a menu.
“Everything okay?” Sofia asks, noticing my distraction.
I plaster on a smile. “Just admiring the decor. Shall we?” I guide her to our table, positioning myself so she can’t see Marcus, my ever-present shadow, masquerading as a fellow diner.
Once seated, I lean in, channeling my most attentive “listening to the pitch from start-up” posture. “So, Sofia, tell me about your work as a pediatric nurse. It must be rewarding.”
Her eyes light up, and I feel a surge of victory. Nailed it.
“Oh, it really is. Just last week, we had this little boy...” Sofia launches into a story. Her passion is infectious.
“I’m impressed,” I say when she finishes. “You handle tiny humans with ease. I can barely solve a Rubik’s cube without breaking into a sweat.”
Sofia grins. “Well, I appreciate your interest. Most guys I date look for the exit as soon as I mention my forty-eight-hour shifts.”
I lean in, lowering my voice. “Well, between you and me, I find sleep deprivation and saving lives far more interesting than most people’s hobbies. Tell me, do you have a secret coffee IV drip, or is it all just pure adrenaline?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “A magician never reveals her secrets. But let’s just say the hospital coffee maker and I are in a very committed relationship.”
The candlelight flickers across Sofia’s face as she leans forward. “So, Liam, man of mystery. Tell me about your family. Any siblings hiding in that closet?”
My hand tightens on my wine glass.Danger, Will Robinson. “Family, huh? Well, there was this one time I created an entire imaginary clan for a Dungeons & Dragons campaign. Does that count?”
Sofia rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch. “Nice deflection. I’m starting to think you’re in witness protection or something.”
I wag my eyebrows. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you. And that would really put a damper on our evening.” And this is if Aleria won’t kill me first.
“Fine, keep your secrets.” Sofia laughs. “I’ll start. I have a sister, Amelia. She’s a high school English teacher with a penchant for terrible puns and an uncanny ability to quote Shakespeare at the most inappropriate moments.”
“A teacher? Now that’s a superpower,” I say, seizing the chance to steer us away from my family minefield. “So you both work with kids?”
The conversation flows on, a delicate dance of wit and near-misses. I share travel stories, editing out private jets and luxury suites, like I agreed with Aleria.
Sofia counters with tales of backpacking mishaps and hostel adventures that make my curated “normal guy” experiences pale in comparison.
The server clears our dessert plates, and I realize with a start that the restaurant has emptied around us. Couples and groups file out, leaving behind the soft clink of dishes and the low hum of the cleaning staff beginning their nightly routine. I glance at my watch, eyes widening. How is it so late already?
Sofia’s laugh draws my attention back to her, the sound warm and inviting in the quiet restaurant. Her eyes sparkle in the candlelight as she finishes her story about a disastrous camping trip. For once, my mind isn’t racing with stock prices or upcoming board meetings. Instead, I’m fully present, hanging on her every word, trying to commit this moment to memory.
For the first time in years, the thought of ending an evening fills me with reluctance instead of relief.
