Page 110 of The Design of Goodbye
But it wasn’t a customer waiting for us.
It was Liam.
My entire body felt jittery and alive as he walked into the shop, bringing in a burst of cold air and snow with him.
Our eyes met.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, hey.”
Last night, our goodbye had gone like this: him pressing me against the side of his house as he kissed my neck. Me gripping his hair, pulling him closer, and trying to remember how to breathe.
“H-hi,” I choked out.
Apparently, I’d lost my ability to speak properly around him. But this wasLiam,and we’d finally kissed, and I couldn’t stop thinking about said kissing. We hadn’t talked about what the kissingmeant, though, and it made me nervous.
“Why are you guys acting so weird?” Taylor asked. Then she squealed. “You kissed!”
Liam’s eyes widened. “Uh...”
“What makes you think that?” I wondered.
Taylor gestured between us. “Look at you!”
We didn’t look any different, did we?
I definitelyfeltdifferent—no one got kissed like I had and felt the same after—but I couldn’t put into words what I was feeling, so she couldn’t possiblyseeit.
Could she?
I asked, “How do we look, exactly?”
“Honestly, the awkward hellos gave it away. But then you add in the nervous glances, the pining, and it’s so obvious.” She smiled. “Am I right?”
I nodded and tried not to smile but did anyway.
Because I’d kissed Liam.
I’d kissed Liam!
“I’m so happy for you guys.” She waved a finger at me. “But, seriously, Madison, next time, call me. I should know all the details by now. We should’ve been up all night talking about how much tongue—”
Liam coughed.
“Taylor!”
“Sorry.” She winked. “I’ll leave you two alone now.” She stared pointedly at me. “But details later.”
Once she disappeared down the hallway, Liam leaned against the front desk. “Hi again.”
I swallowed. “Hi again.” I wanted to touch him, but I wasn’t sure I should.
“I got you this.” He handed me the coffee he’d been holding.
Not only had he brought me a coffee, he’d drawn flowers on the cup in permanent marker. It was the first time he’d drawn—that I knew of—something other than a bird since we’d met.
“I love it.” I almost didn’t want to drink the coffee, too afraid I’d ruin his art. “Thank you.”
“I figured you’d prefer coffee over flowers, so I drew flowers on the coffee.”
