Page 19 of Hate To Love You
Liam sighs, quite suddenly unable to practice the patience he just mustered up. “What the hell is it with you today?” He spins on Teague. “Why are you messing with me like this?”
“Messing with you like what?”
“Stop acting so innocent. You’ve been playing games with me all day. Forcing yourself into the errand Mr. Michelson assigned tome. Taking me out to Spruce for lunch. Talking about boyfriends and walking dogs and …” Liam paces away from the truck with a scoff. “Are youthatdesperate for everyone in Fairview to love you that you’d stoop so low as toflirtwith me?”
Teague’s eyebrows are lifted so high, his messy bangs take them away. “Pea—urgh—Liam, I swear, I’m not trying to—”
“You’ve held me hostage all day. Toying with me and … and my feelings. Maybe you just need to face the fact that somepeople you meet in life aren’t meant to fall for you and your charm,” Liam finally states, coming to a stop in front of a frozen Teague. “Some people, you willneverwin over.”
Teague doesn’t say anything to that, staring back at Liam, a glint of the evening sun in his eyes.
Even that glint makes him look so handsome.
It’s crushing, truly, to be standing this close to someone who, in another reality, might be exactly the kind of guy Liam needs, and to feel nothing but resentment and hurt for reasons that Liam cannot possibly in this state of mind surmise.
Not a moment later, the employees come out for the final load from the truck, and then the two are on the road again, heading back to the store.
No more words are said.
When they pull into the parking lot of Gary’s Grocers at long last, Teague kills the engine and flicks off the radio at once. “Hey,” he starts to say to Liam, “listen, I … I really didn’t mean—”
“I’m sorry.”
Liam’s apology appears to surprise them both.
He’d been thinking about it ever since they left Nadine’s. He’d been torturing himself every mile of the way, thinking how awful he seems to become in Teague’s presence. Is he being possessed by a demon? Does he need to go to therapy or an exorcist? Why does he turn into a monster when it comes to Teague Jenson? Teague didn’t even do anything all that bad, other than inserting himself into Liam’s errand, which in all honesty did lend far more help than if Liam had gone on his own.
“I’m sorry,” Liam says again. “For being so awful today.”
“No need to apologize!” insists Teague with sudden cheer, as if overwhelmed and grateful by Liam’s scrap of self-accountability. “Really, I still had the best afternoon with you.And weren’t those burgers todiefor? I’ve never been there. And my first memory of that place is now with someone I care about.” Teague grins. “No harm, no foul, right?”
It’s honestlymoreannoying, how forgiving Teague is.
But Liam decides to accept a pardon where it’s given, even if it feels less like forgiveness and more like a giant eraser to his huge parking lot tantrum at Nadine’s. “Thank you,” he says awkwardly back. “And … maybe I’ll … make it up to you or something. Buy you a proper birthday cake from our bakery department. Get you an actual set of … of twenty candles.” Liam nods generally in Teague’s direction and even allows himself a little smile. “I never did sing Happy Birthday to you, I just realized. It’s probably for the best. I’m a terrible singer. Anyway, I’d better grab a couple of people to help us bring in this load.” Liam opens his door.
“Oh, um … right, about the birthday thing …”
Liam stops and looks back. “Yeah?”
Teague sucks in his bottom lip, appearing to trouble over his words. Then, in a tiny voice, he grimaces and says, “Would it be … like … maybe the worst thing in the world … if I … make the tiniest little confession … that today, um …isn’t… my actual birthday?”
Someone pulls the pavement right out from under Liam’s feet.
Pulls the air right out from in front of Liam’s face.
“Another week or two from now,” Teague goes on, his voice becoming more and more strained the longer he squirms. “So … not entirely a lie. Just, um, not today. Notexactlytoday. You just seemed a bit tense ever since we left the store, so I thought I could distract you a little, and … and hey, didn’t it sort of work?” He lets out a nervous laugh. “Isn’t that funny? How it all worked out? Um, Liam …? Your eyes are doing something weird.”
Liam is gripping the handle of the car door so tightly, he could crush it like an aluminum can. He just might grind his teeth into bone meal if he stands here any longer.
In lieu of saying another word, he simply lets himself out of the truck—while Teague says, “Liam? You’re not mad, are you?”—and then makes his way back to the store.
Perhaps Liam shouldn’t have given any concession to Teague and just stuck with his original conclusion. Teague is a schemer. A well-intended schemer, possibly, but he plays games with people’s feelings, manipulates everyone into liking him, and then saunters through life like he’s in the happiest most undeserved dream.
And Liam can’t stand another minute of being part of it.
It’s time to wake the hell up.
Liam, against all odds, makes it through the rest of his shift without seeing Teague. He clocks out at the computer, and thanks to some unknown god or goddess of luck, it gives him no trouble. He peels off his apron, decidedly done with this day, and folds it over an arm before heading for the door.
