Page 94 of A World Without You
“You’re welcome.” I realize the freedom of my words is due to my mind being lubricated with three glasses of wine, but it doesn’t seem to matter. No matter what I say—no matter what slips past my lips—it doesn’t make me feel stupid or guilty, so I keep the momentum going. “I have a confession.”
He arches his eyebrow, and I continue, “I used to think you were so hot when we were kids.”
He laughs—actuallylaughs—a shy and endearing laugh, reminding me yet again of how comfortable I was with him for years. More than a friend. More than family. He was Bennett. He taught me how to win a thumb war, and I remember arm-wrestling him when I was eight, and he would pretend to lose. I didn’t think he was pretending then. Now I know better. Isn’t that how childhood works? All the magic evaporates the day we become an adult.
I smile at the sound of his laugh and ignore how exactly it’s making me feel. “I did. You were probably my first crush. You should feel honored,” I say, taking a long sip of wine.
“Oh, I am very honored. You know,” he starts, then stops, a quick breath of laugh escaping his mouth.
I cut him off. “Don’t you dare say I was your first crush, too, because that would be weird.”
His eyes widen. “Liv, you are six years younger than me. I guarantee I never saw you like that.”
“Aw, breaking my heart,” I tease, clutching a hand to my chest.
“You’re gross.” He shakes his head. “Plus, you were a ratty, feral, little child.”
“I was not!” I say, laughing. “God, you’re so mean.”
“You’ve cleaned up your act a lot—fooling the masses, but not me.”
“Whatever, Bennett.” I backhand his shoulder.
“You were like this dirty little Gremlin that was fed after midnight,” he continues, almost laughing to himself.
“First of all...” I can barely breathe. I’m laughing so hard because, in truth, I was a dirty little rugrat until puberty. I loved dirt and trees more than baths and dresses. I needed to be reminded to take a shower and brush my hair until I was thirteen. “Gremlins are what Mogwais turn into after they get fed at midnight.”
He waves me off. “You get what I’m saying.”
My laughter settles, and I sigh, the smile remaining on my face. “You knowGremlinsmight actually be my favorite Christmas movie.”
“Get out,” Bennett says, pointing at the door, and I immediately start laughing again.
“Hey, Gizmo and I are kindred spirits,” I reason, and Bennett slips a finger over my lips, silencing me.
“I liked you better when your favorite movie wasChristmas Vacation,” he says.
“Rude!” I respond as I giggle and push his hand away. He’s laughing, too, and I could get lost in that sound. It trembles over all my senses and soothes all the places I ache.
“It’s okay, I like getting to know this version of you, too.” A small smile traces his lips, and a moment of silence lingers before he adds, “But Christmas needs to be happy, even when you’re sad, soGremlinsis not allowed to be your favorite Christmas movie.”
“Fine.” I squeeze his hand lightly, a gentle gesture of gratitude. “So what were you going to say just now before you started comparing me to mythical creatures?”
The line between his brows appears, and he bites his bottom lip with a quick shrug. “Nothing.”
“No, say it. I just admitted to crushing on you when we were younger. You called me feral in response. The least you can do is tell me what you were going to say.”
“I was just going to ask when you started seeing me for who I actually am, and not some teenage heartthrob you put on a pedestal.”
I smile, scrunching my nose as if he’s embellishing. He’s not though. I planned our wedding at least twice before I was even fourteen. “Did I say all those things?”
“I assumed,” he says, shrugging and smirking.
“You shouldn’t do that.”
“I know, I’m such an ass.” He smiles wide enough that even his facial hair can’t hide his dimple.
A silence falls over us again as I absorb his question, letting my mind try to pinpoint when I stopped having a crush on Bennett. “Hmm. I don’t think I did.”
