Page 77 of Our Radiant Embers

“Deal.” He passed me on the way to the sink.

I turned to put away the instant coffee that Christian must have bought while staying here with friends some weeks ago. From the same cupboard, I grabbed two cups that I warmed with hot water from the coffee machine. When I glanced over, Liam was watching me again.

“Something on my face?”

“It’s a nice one.” He moved on without any trace of embarrassment. “Wondering how you turned into such a coffee snob, though.”

Cassandra had asked me the same once, but I hadn’t given her an honest response at the time. Maybe now, I would have.

“Final year of school.” I didn’t look at Liam, busied myself with getting milk and coffee beans from the fridge, sealed up tight. “Exams and all, right? So the pressure was on. And then Cassandra developed an eating disorder.”

Liam inhaled audibly but otherwise stayed quiet.

“It took a while before I noticed, and then even longer to convince her she needed to talk to someone.” Shadows lingered on the edge of my vision. I blinked them away and shook a portion of beans into the grinder. “Around that time, I got into the habit of making my own coffee—something to ground me, you know? I went down to the kitchen a few times a day and had them teach me how to use the machine, how to get the milk foam just right. I guess it was one thing that I felt I could control. Like an anchor maybe, or some kind of ritual for myself. So that I could be steady for her.”

I activated the grinder, and for ten seconds, no other sounds existed. Then silence.

“I’m sorry about Cassandra.” Liam’s voice was quiet. “She’s fine now?”

“Yeah.” I flicked him a brief smile. “Her fitness obsession only just qualifies as healthy, though. On the bright side, it keeps me motivated to work out.”

“I’ve noticed.” Humour shone in Liam’s tone before he grew serious again. “You know yourself quite well, don’t you? I mean, that’s not the kind of answer I expected when I asked about your barista aspirations.”

The question caught me by surprise. I tamped down the ground coffee to give myself a moment to consider my response. “Maybe, yeah. I think I had to, in a way. Like, with what you call my golden cage—I know what I’m doing and why. If I didn’t, I’d probably go mad.”

“You really don’t see any other way?” Liam asked gently.

I focused on twisting the portafilter into place. “No.”

Even though I’d kept my voice even, it felt like the drop of an anvil. This was meant to be a sunny, airy day, wasn’t it? Well done, me.

I let the coffee flow into the first cup and reached for the milk, combined it with a smile. “Cappuccino? Or are you sticking with your no sugar, dash of milk default?”

For a slow, aching second, Liam simply looked at me. Then he smiled back. “Wow me with your best cappuccino.”

“As you wish,” I said, cheesy as you please, and he groaned.

“I am not Buttercup.”

“But your wish is my command.”

He drew a breath as if to speak, then stopped and shook his head with a rueful grin. “Too easy. Way too easy.”

A laugh opened up my chest, creating space that had been missing just a minute ago. “You have standards—I admire that in a person.”

“There are a lot of things to admire about me,” he said, his tone so smarmy it tickled another laugh out of me.

“Such as?”

“My big…” His pause was entirely for effect. “Collection of solo socks. No idea how they all keep losing their partners.”

“They’re strong, independent socks that need no other sock to feel good about themselves,” I supplied.

It would have been unforgivably clichéd to liken Liam’s laugh to the sun bursting through the clouds. So I didn’t, but I still couldn’t resist embellishing his cappuccino with a milk-foam heart. He caught it, a wistful smile playing on his lips, but said nothing.

I grabbed a jacket before we took our cups out to the terrace and sat, morning light spilling over us. The conversation meandered like the rest of the day, flowing from what period in history we’d visit for a few hours, to mountains versus beaches, to what we’d be if we could be anything.

Later, once the day began heating up, we braved the chilly breeze and took to the water. It was still cold, and we didn’t last more than ten minutes before we admitted defeat and hurried back to our towels. If my gaze lingered on Liam’s chest, on the subtle bumps of his abs and the dusting of hair that disappeared into his trunks…Well, he was looking his fill, too. Wasn’t even subtle about it, and when I arched an eyebrow at him, he shrugged.

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