Page 23 of Izzy and Her Off-Limits Love

“For real?” I can’t hide the sudden excitement in my voice.

“I didn’t decorate when I lived in New York, and I hate that I lost that part of myself. It just didn’t feel like Christmas.”

“I totally get it. You have to decorate. And I’d love to help.”

“Good. That would be great.” He taps the door jamb once. “There’s a lot at the end of my block where a tree farm from North Carolina sets up every year. We could pick one up, buy some ornaments and lights. Whatever else you think might look good in here. You were always big into Christmas, weren’t you?”

Decorating for Christmas hasalwaysbeen one of my favorite things to do—and I love that Liam remembers. “You should see my apartment right now,” I say. “It’s red and silver and twinkly and perfect.”

“Basking in the glow of its new yellow raincoat,” Liam says.

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.”

“Did you put up a tree?”

“Yes, but not a real one. I’m so glad you want to though. They smell the best.”

“So, you’re into smelling things now, hm? Clothing, trees—anything else you love to smell?”

“No.” I throw a pillow at him, and he catches it, then tosses it back with a grin.

“I love real trees,” he says. “it’s kind of our tradition now. In North Carolina, Camden would take us up into the mountains to cut one down ourselves. You should have seen Mom wielding an ax.”

“Actually, that sounds a little terrifying,” I say.

“Oh, it was. After the first year, Camden deemed her a danger to herself and took away her ax privileges. After that, it was mostly just him and I that did all the chopping.”

There is something dangerously sexy about imagining the man currently leaning in the doorway wielding an ax. Maybe Naomi has pictures somewhere, and I can find a way to ask her that doesn’t sound weird. Probably not, but I’m definitely saving the mental image for later recall.

“Anyway, the ones they sell down the block look and smell fresh. They remind me of home. Or—myotherhome. Oakley and Harvest Hollow somehow both manage to claim that title for me.”

Though exhaustion has set in, the more Liam talks, the more I want to ask him. Our catching up over dinner was great, but we barely scratched the surface of everything I want to know. We mostly just filled in the gaps about what we’ve been doing the past few years. College, friendships, family. But we didn’t talk about things like how it felt moving away from Oakley and adjusting to a new town. We also skipped right over dating, which felt like a wooly mammoth in the room, but I definitely don’t want to get intothatsubject tonight.

I sink down onto the couch, clutching Liam’s soft pajamas to my chest. “I’d love to hear more about your time in Harvest Hollow,” I tell him, a yawn taking over my last words. “Maybe tomorrow?”

“Definitely. So, is that a yes to decorating?” he asks, his eyes bright behind his glasses.

“Absolutely. Especially if we can have hot cocoa to go along with it. But I might need to grab some new clothes first. Not at Costco—no offense.”

He grins. “None taken. Mostly.”

“Thank you for asking me. And thanks so much for having me.”

I almost add an I’m sorry for the trouble, but truly, I’m not. Liam doesn’t look the least bit put out to have me, so I decide not to apologize for things I can’t control. Instead, I’ll just be grateful for more time with him.

“Good,” he says. “It’s a date.”

SEVEN

Liam

Izzy stumblesinto the kitchen Saturday morning looking groggy and sleep rumpled. Her hair is wild, piled on top of her head and sticking out in a million directions, there’s a slight crease down the side of her face, and a little makeup is smudged underneath her eyes.

She shouldn’t look gorgeous this way, but she does. Beautiful as ever. I also really like the look of her in my clothes even though they’re clearly too big.

“Good morning,” I say as I flip over a sizzling slice of bacon. “How did you sleep?”

She climbs onto a barstool across the island from me and yawns. “Like the dead. Your couch is amazing. What time is it? My phone died last night, so I’m completely clueless this morning.”

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