Page 10 of Izzy and Her Off-Limits Love

“Okay, that’s fair,” I say.

“You know I’m making you meet me for coffee in the morning so you can tell me everything, right? And I mean everything.”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

Her eyes drift over my shoulder. “Oh wow. Is that him?”

I turn and see Liam standing by the door, shrugging out of his suit coat. He looks around the bar, smiling when he meets my gaze.

“Girl,” Alisa says under her breath. “Your cousin is really hot.”

“He’s not my?—”

I can’t finish my sentence because Liam reaches us, looking adorably sheepish, hands pushed into his pockets. He lifts one, adjusting his glasses, a nervous tell I remember from childhood. There was a period of time when he was in college that he wore contacts, and I really missed the glasses.

“Hey,” he says, glancing between us. “You must be Alisa? I’m Liam. Thanks for letting me crash the party.”

She extends her hand. “A friend of Izzy’s is a friend of mine. Now tell me. Tenor or bass?”

Liam looks at me, his mouth lifting up on one side. “Probably tenor? But a bad one. I’ll happily just watch and listen tonight.” He nudges me. “Izzy’s the singer.”

“Is she now?”

Alisa looks at me like she’s learning something new. Because sheis.I sang a lot more when I was in high school and college, and I’ve always loved it, but there haven’t been as many opportunities to sing in my very boring corporate life. I’m still fighting for chances totalkat work. Singing is nowhere on my radar.

“She fought me so hard on coming to karaoke, I assumed she was tone deaf,” Alisa says.

“If you’ve never heard Izzy sing, you’re in for a treat.”

I lift my hands to my cheeks. “Stop it. It’s been forever since I’ve sung anything, especially in front of people. And I only promised to come tonight to watch. I’m not going to sing.”

“Oh, whatever,” Alisa says. “One cocktail in you, and you’ll be totally ready to go.” She tilts her head toward the bar. “I alreadyopened a tab on Derek’s dime. Get whatever you want. I’ll go add us to the list.”

She’s gone before I can stop her. Honestly, singing right now might be kind of a release. It’s always been something that calms me, even if my ideal choice wouldn’t be Christmas songs.

As soon as Alisa leaves, music starts up at the other end of the bar, and a cheer moves through the crowd. Liam moves into the place she occupied, which puts him closer. It’s probably just an attempt to be heard over the music, but my body still angles toward him, like it’s a reflex, like it needs to be close to him as much as it needs breathing.

Still, I resist, stiffening slightly.

When is my body going to get the memo that Liam doesn’t—and can’t—belong to me?

“She seems nice,” Liam says, his mouthwaytoo close to my ear. “But I’d love to be the one to buy your drink, Iz.”

His words send a warm shiver through me, making my fingertips tingle. He leans back enough to hold my gaze, and for the first time all day, I start to wonder a few things.

Liam is agoodman. Raised by a mom and stepdad who taught him how to treat women.

But he’s standingreallyclose to me. Offering to buy me a drink. While he—so far as I know—has a girlfriend he liked enough to introduce her to his family.

All day, I’ve been dismissing his familiarity, his teasing, and how comfortable he is with physical closeness because we grew up together. We know each other so well—it’s easy to slide back into old habits and routines.

But if he were really days away from proposing to Natasha, would he be looking at me like this?

An uneasy feeling settles in my gut.

Is Liam not the guy I thought he was? Or maybe … is it possible he and Natasha aren’t together anymore?

A dozen questions rest on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t bring myself to ask a single one. The sudden hope coursing through my veins feels like a drug, and I don’t want to give it up.

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