Page 93 of Veiled in Brick

I didn’t say it in an accusatory tone in the least, but Liam appeared to take it as such. His blonde head bobbed backwards in surprise, and his lips pulled up in a grimace.

“I’m not fuckin jealous, Zo’.”

“Okay, okay.” I held up my hands in a weak defense. “What, then?”

Liam groaned, “This is stupid; we have other shit that’s way more important right now.”

“Yeah, other shit that’s basically just up in the air until Jay finds anything on that camera,” I reminded him. “So…what’s up?”

He looked to me hesitantly, and then asked, “Do you not…I dunno…care?”

“About Jay?” I returned.

“Yeah,” he stated in an exhale. “About Jay—’cause it doesn’t matter to me if he does. Hell, I get why he does. It’s impossible to not care about you—you’re fuckin’ you.” I felt heat rise to my cheeks at that admission, and he continued with, “But the other way around? I…I dunno.”

His unease made me want to immediately spit out a no. I wanted the answer to be no. My life, regarding the men that had woven themselves into it, anyway, would feel a hell of a lot simpler if that answer were no. It wasn’t, though, because I did care about James. However, my desire to be closer to Liam overshadowed that feeling entirely—and just because it was overshadowed didn’t mean that it was a feeling that was able to be entirely ignored.

“I do,” I muttered. “Care about Jay, I mean.”

Liam narrowed his eyes at the road before him, let out a grunt that came forth in a gritty, “Ah,” and muttered, “fuck, that feels bad.”

“I—I can’t just immediately turn it off since there was something there between us, but I told him I couldn’t do it with him anymore,” I reassured him, for his anguished tone clenched at my heart. “I told you that—I want to be with you.”

A jolt of shock ran through me at my last sentence. I hadn’t intended to speak it—hadn’t even realized it was on my mind—knew that the thought existed, but had buried it deep within me for the mere idea was so foreign that it frightened me.

“Be with me?” Liam nearly whispered.

Though we had most definitely crossed the line into what could be defined as relationship territory to others more comfortable with the term, the boundaries had not yet been clearly labeled between us. Our respective reluctance to that type of closeness with the opposite sex had made us both dance around the subject with expertly pointed toes and spinning pirouettes. And, yes, our minds had been otherwise occupied with the threat dangling above our heads—but now that the threat appeared to be in queue for potential extermination, the question, ‘What are we?’ hung between us.

And I had, seemingly, answered it. Blurted it out. Admitted my thoughts before I could even gauge whether or not Liam wanted the same…and there was no use in denying that any further.

We were well within the town of Southport again, slowly driving back to the restaurant. Liam caught my eye in a nervous glimpse as he steered through a lot near the boardwalk, searching for an empty spot to park. I finally nodded in response to his question, and the anxiety in his gaze was erased. His mouth pulled up into a soft smile, and his feelings on the matter at hand were ever-clear—there was no need to speak them aloud.

He turned the wheel, slid my car into a small space between two vans, and looked back to me as he shoved the gear shift forward. Clicking the button to release his seatbelt, Liam leaned over the center console and placed his lips on mine. My body sagged, I placed a hand on his neck to keep him near me as he began to pull away, and our mouths moved against each other’s softly.

His lips eventually left mine, and he muttered in a voice that had turned breathless, “We gotta go get Claire and Luke.”

I sighed, “Do we?”

The deep chuckle that he let out brought a grin to my face, and he replied, “Yep—and I need food.”

“Is your appetite back?” I asked sweetly. He nodded, and I stated, “Well, let’s go, then.”

Our walk back to the restaurant was wildly different than our earlier stroll. We went down the same area of the boardwalk. The weather was delightfully consistent, with a gentle breeze and sun showering over us. We held a loose grip on each other’s fingers as we stepped along, every so often squeezing in a similar fashion to how we had done previously. Those things were nearly the same, yes. The aura that surrounded us, however, had shifted to a bright, sunny vibe that caused us to walk with our shoulders held high, and it was far too short of a time until we approached the restaurant yet again.

Luke and Claire sat at the same table, eyeing us curiously as we happily made our way back to them. We sank into our respective chairs, Liam’s fingers tightly closed on mine once, and he let me go.

“Were the fish tacos good?” he asked the group with an upbeat tone and a wide, Cheshire grin. “They looked good—think I could get some to-go?”

Luke squinted at him with a morbid curiosity, and Claire’s red head bounced between the two of us multiple times before her baby blues finally landed on me.

“Why is he so happy?”

“Found out there’s a camera in the hallway of our complex,” I told her with a smile.

“What?” Luke spoke up with wide eyes. “No, there’s not—”

“We’ve already been over this, Lukey-Luke,” Liam stated. “Long story, but there is.”

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