Page 7 of My Knight Before Christmas
“I do.”
I leaned over the counter and smacked her arm. I did not want Liam in my life. “I don’t.”
She glared at me. “Fine. Do it for closure, then.”
“I have a better idea. Why don’tyoujust tell me?”
She plated her eggs, going out on the balcony to eat her breakfast. Without me. She kicked the door closed on her way outside.
“Is that a 'no'?” I hollered after her.
Didn’t we have a roommate code that insisted if you knew vital information, you had to share it? I shook a fist at her, then rinsed my cereal bowl, putting in the dishwasher. If Liam really wanted to speak with me, he could find me.
Five
Overthenextsixdays, I boxed up all thoughts of Liam with two rolls of mental duct tape, then shoved the gray blob so far back into my mind it would take a psychologist of Navy Seal expertise to track it down.
With my lunch tote and purse competing for a space on my shoulder, I made my way to the parking lot of Frostings, the bakery I worked at. As I neared my car, a tall figure leaned against it. My steps faltered, my tongue plastered to the roof of my mouth.
Why did Liam have to look so good? His straight nose, narrow jaw, and full lips made my heart reach its maximum beats per minute. Not something it was used to.
“Hi,” Liam said tentatively, pushing himself off the car.
“What are you doing here?”
He shoved his hands in his front pockets. “Anna said you didn’t want me to have your number. I didn’t know how else to get a hold of you.”
So now he was concerned about getting in touch?“And stalking me at work was the best option you could come up with?”
His head hung. “I’m sorry. For now. And before.” He reached out as if to touch me, then dropped his arm.
Smart move buddy.I didn’t want his hands anywhere on me. I was too afraid of the way my body would react. Memories of butterflies swooping in my stomach and heat sparking up my arm whenever he’d touched me flooded my nervous system. I’d lose all sense of control if he came too close.
“Thanks for apologizing.” No way would I forgive him so easily, especially with such a weak,sorry. I unlocked my car, dropping the bags into the front passenger seat. “I have an appointment to get to, so…” I walked around to the driver’s side.
Liam’s arm blocked me from opening the door. “Will you please let me explain what happened?”
I clenched my fists. “Go ahead.”
“Not here.” He tilted his head at a customer who had parked two stalls away and was exiting their vehicle.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
His eyes turned dark. From annoyance? Pain? Frustration? All three? “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?” he muttered.
“Ha,” I scoffed. “You mean how you took the easy way out breaking up with me? You could have at least sent me a text.” I stared at the ground as heat seared my cheeks. We never defined what we were. Never said we were an official couple. I couldn’t believe I just told him I thought we were. Still, after six dates, he should have communicatedsomehowthat he was done dating me.
“You’re right.” He kicked at a pebble in the parking lot. “And if my phone wasn’t stolen, I would have explained why I had to leave town for a while. I never meant to hurt you.”
Someonetookhis phone? Did they see the dozens of texts and calls I’d sent? At first, when Liam stopped responding, I thought he was just busy. Then I worried he’d been in an accident or hospitalized. It didn’t dawn on me until a week after he dropped me off after our last date that he was purposely avoiding me.
“I’m sorry someone took your phone. But why didn’t you message or email me?”
He met my gaze. “That’s what I’d like to explain to you.”
I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. He’d hurt me. Would listening to what he had to say change any of it? Probably not. At least, as Anna said, I could gain closure. Maybe then the anger and devastation would leave me be. Maybe then, when I met a nice guy, I would feel something besides numbness. Maybe then his image would stop pestering me.
“Fine. Meet me at Oaks Park by the river-walk in half an hour.” I didn’t give him a chance to respond. My nerves were weakening my limbs. If I didn’t get out of there, I’d surely do something embarrassing, like crumble to the ground, or punch him. The chances were fifty-fifty.
