Page 42 of The Arrangement
Emily was the first to break the silence, her sweet words squeezing my heart. “Liam, you never have to tell me anything, but I’m here if you ever want to talk.”
“Thanks, Em. I just…want to think about things.”
“Understandable. I’ll give you the best piece of advice I was told years ago. Never let someone tell you how you feel is wrong.There’s no should or shouldn’t. No expiration date either. If you’re attracted to men, great. If you’re attracted to women, also great. If you aren’t attracted to anyone, great. If you’ve always been attracted to women and one day wake up and find yourself attracted to a man, great. No one should have the power to tell you who you are or how you feel. Not parents, friends, strangers, or even the fucking government. Be you. In the end, you’ll be a hell of a lot happier than if you try to be something they want you to be.”
I knew she was right.
But the bigger problem was finding the courage to ask those questions and dig for the answers.
15
ROME ASHBRIDGE
Date numberfour took me by surprise. Liam asked me over to his town house apartment for dinner but wouldn’t give me any details beyond that. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The first two dates he’d cooked up had been interesting. This one felt…familiar in an odd way.
My wariness must have shown on my face because Liam rolled his eyes at me when he opened his door.
“Get in here. This isn’t some ambush,” Liam ordered, waving me inside.
“Maybe I wouldn’t be so worried about an ambush if you weren’t so moody,” I countered. Not to mention, I was worried he might be pissed that I’d almost kissed him outside of Music Hall.
Liam snorted and shut the door. “If I was moody, it’s only because I have to deal with your crazy ass.”
“Here,” I said, thrusting a bottle of red wine into his hands after he hung my coat in the hall closet. “You wouldn’t tell me what was on the menu, so I took a shot in the dark. It’s from this little vineyard in the south of France. One of my favorites.” Cabernet Sauvignon seemed like a safe choice, but I didn’t know if Liam liked wine. Was I coming off as too pretentious?Probably. Liam likely thought that I was even more of an asshole than usual.
“This looks nice, but it might be too fancy for what I’ve got planned.” He led the way down the hall past a cozy living room stuffed with bookcases and one big TV to a smallish kitchen. On the center island covered in blue tile was pizza crust stretched across a cooking stone. “I thought we’d make our own pizza and play video games. I’ve dusted off my PS2, GameCube, and Xbox.MaddenandGran Turismo 4are cued up. I’m prepared to kick your ass at both games tonight.”
My heart did this crazy flip-flop in my chest, and for a second, I couldn’t even breathe. Liam had planned this night out like one of our fucking childhood sleepovers. Pizza and video games until we collapsed.
“Seriously? You have never beaten me atMadden!”
“Whatever. I will dominate your ass tonight. After I beat you on the PS2, I’ll pull out my PS5 and beat you on the newestMadden. You will be crushed tonight!”
“Oh, the smack talk is real.” I cackled. “I hope you can back it up.”
“You’ll see. I’ll destroy you.” If he kept up with video games, there was a damn good chance he was going to annihilate me tonight. I played here and there, but nowhere near as intensely as I had as a kid. In my late teens, I’d discovered boobs and dicks that didn’t belong to me. It had kind of overtaken my gaming time.
“Let’s get this pizza in the oven, and we can figure out what to play first. Can you spread the sauce evenly across the dough? I’m going to grab the toppings out of the fridge.”
“Sure.” After rolling the sleeves of my navy blue collared shirt up to my elbows and washing my hands, I carefully ladled the rich, dark red sauce onto the dough. It smelled delicious. Theperfect mix of oregano and garlic with the tomatoes. “Did you make the sauce from scratch?”
“No. Didn’t have time. But I made the dough this morning so it would have all day to prove and rise properly.” As he spoke, he pulled out a dozen bowls filled with all the usual pizza toppings and a few original ones. “I’ve got a mozzarella-and-provolone blend for the cheese. I hope that’s okay.”
“God, Liam. You don’t have to try so hard.”
Liam shut the fridge door and gave me a look. “Says the man who brought me a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon from a vineyard he actually visited in the south of France.”
“Ouch.” He pretended to flinch, but he was right. “Okay. No more being try-hards. We’re the same guys who devoured that Chef Boyardee pizza your mom made with the slices of hot dog on top.”
Liam shuddered as he joined me at the island. “There’s no way that was real cheese included in the box.”
“It didn’t have to be real cheese. They just had to call it pizza, and we would devour it like starved wolves.”
“True.” Liam stood opposite me, checking my work. “Okay. I figure you can have the half closest to you, and I’ll take the other half. I’ve got the usuals—pepperoni, spicy Italian sausage, bacon, green peppers, mushrooms, banana peppers—but I’ve also got some leftover slices of rib eye steak and baby spinach if you’re feeling special.”
With a nod, we dove in, grabbing handfuls of shredded cheese to sprinkle over our sides before moving on to the toppings.
“How was your Thanksgiving?” Liam inquired.
