Page 75 of Mostly Loathing You

“Can’t eat that, Hannah.”

“Liam!” I huff out as I stop in place, pulling his hand to bring him to a halt.

“It’s not a big deal…” He nods toward the sidewalk in front of us, trying to encourage me to keep walking.

“Humor me.”

Liam scans our surroundings as he seeks out something to pin his eyes on, anything to avoid looking me in the eye. The longer he diverts his gaze, the more my stomach starts to churn,the bubbling feeling at the pit of my gut leaving me in a constant shift between wanting to pass out or throw up. My palm grows wet in his hand, but he’s squeezing it so tightly that I can’t pull it from his grasp.

“I thought—” He sighs before looking down at me, an unfamiliar expression plaguing him. “I thought you were considering moving back.”

The meaning in his words nearly floats past me before it hits me, causing a faint grin to overtake me.

“You were scared.” My smile is on full display as he rolls his eyes, trying to yank his hand from what is nowmydeath grip.

“I was notscared.”

“Oh, you totally were!” I cackle as he yanks his hand from mine, giving me just enough reaction to know that I’m right.

“Whatever…what do you want to eat?”

The grin doesn’t leave my lips as I slide my hand back into his, squeezing as he releases the tension he is holding. Whether he fights the revelation, a warmth grows in my belly at the realization that he’s just as scared as I am.

“I could go for pizza.”

“Finally, an answer,” he says as he smiles down at me.

Troppe Pizzematerializes, and the door of the family-owned restaurant swings open with a creak. A wave of hot air billows out, transporting a thick fog of steam along with it as it mixes with the crisp December air. The pungent scent of tomato sauce and oregano hangs heavy in the air, causing my mouth to water in anticipation. I inhale deeply, savoring the aroma.

Liam orders us a pie to share and it is delivered to us in record time. Despite my instinct to act reserved and not at all as ravenous as I am, I reach for it instantly.

The thin crust of the pepperoni pizza crackles as it breaks beneath my teeth, and the flavorful combination of tomato sauce and cheese explodes across my taste buds. I shovel another piece into my mouth with abandon, savoring every bite. I notice Liam’s eyes locked on me as I do so.

“What?” I mumble, attempting to cover the unsightly contents of my full mouth.

“Nothing, it’s just so sexy the way you shovel pizza into your mouth like you’ve been starving in the desert for the past two weeks.” This earns him a kick under the table, which causes him to chuckle as he rubs the spot. “Okay, killer. No, I was just wondering where you’re staying.”

I swallow the last bite of my pizza before I speak this time. “My friend Anna’s apartment in Midtown.”

“False—you’re staying with me at The Pierre.”

“That’s so interesting, because I don’t recall agreeing to that.” My brow raises, causing him to sigh.

“Hannah. Will youpleasestay with me at The Pierre?” While it comes off sarcastic, I take it as a win.

“Of course, all you had to do was ask.”

He scoffs as he takes a sip of his beer, failing to bite back the grin that’s clear as day.

THIRTY-TWO

HANNAH

Believe it or not, I came to New York City a lot as a kid. We often would travel up here as a family…before my mom decided she didn’t enjoy my presence. My love for theater started at a young age, so when we attended a Broadway show as a family, it was the only time I ever felt connected to my parents, sharing something I loved.

We would all find ourselves engrossed in the stories and the musical numbers, a single focal point for each of us to let go of whatever consumed our daily lives.

When Jackson and I would come with our parents, we were always forced to share a double-queen bedroom while our parents got an adjoining room with a king bed. We would always stay at the same hotel near Times Square, and, while it was nice, it never even touched the level of opulence that is The Pierre.

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