Page 91 of My Killer Blind Date

After a while, Liam squeezes my hand twice. ‘What do you say? Time for dessert?’

I lift myself on my elbows, then roll to my side, my hair falling in my face. ‘You want to do it again? Already?’ Dear God, how much dick power can one man have?

He releases a full-throated laugh. ‘I mean literal dessert. If you have any on hand. If not, I can run out for ice cream. Bring some back.’

‘Oh. Yeah, you might have to run out. There’s a convenience store right down the street.’

‘Perfect. What flavors? Pineapple coconut is a must.’

I smile. ‘My must is chocolate peanut butter.’

He rolls out of bed and pulls on his clothes.

‘Back in five.’

*

In the kitchen, Liam opens the five ice cream options he grabbed from the store while I try to find my phone charger, because my phone is nearly dead. When it’s not in the second usual place, I remember I never removed it from my purse.

‘Oh my God,’ I grumble. ‘I need to hire a cleaning service for my purse.’ Moving over to the kitchen, where the light is brightest, I unceremoniously dump all the contents out.

‘Ooooh, a pink dildo?’ says Liam.

‘A stun gun.’ I manage a small grin. ‘Remember? The one I pulled on you?’

He makes a faux-grimace. ‘Oh … right. Back when you thought I was a killer …’

‘There’s more.’ I show off my implements. ‘A little knife … an alarm thingy that starts blaring when you push the button … actually two of those …’

‘Prepared,’ he says appreciatively.

‘I have so much crap in here I should probably clear out …’ I pluck out a mini Rubik’s Cube I won after a game of putt-putt once and grimace. There are also a few ragged-looking tissues kicking around … some dirty pennies …

‘What’s this?’ Liam says as he pulls something from the pile. Ah. Zoe’s photo book. ‘Memory book?’

‘It’s Zoe’s. Her parents let me have it after the memorial.’

‘Have you looked at it already?’

‘Not all of it. But go ahead.’ I cross my arms over my chest. I’m not sure if I want to stir up all my feelings again.

‘Some other time.’ He sets it back down. ‘Let’s eat ice cream.’

‘That sounds good.’

He pushes my purse and all the crap to the side and grabs two bowls. ‘One flavor? Or a little bit of all?’

‘All, please.’

I perch on the counter in a T-shirt and underwear as Liam serves us. Then, I let my legs drop over the side of the counter and Liam stands between them as we eat. I hook my legs around him and relish the feeling of being so close with another human being – and so safe.

He’s a good person. And as much as I doubt my instincts about people, this feels right. Righter than right. Maybe because it’s no longer just an instinct – it’s his actions. It’s the proof. I don’t just mean that he’s not a murderer. His care for me tonight, taking me home with no expectations. The way he puts my pleasure first. His past, with the story of losing his sister, and how he used that pain to move forward and try to do some good in the world.

This isn’t just someone I have a crush on.

‘What are you thinking?’ says Liam as he digs out another scoop of ice cream.

‘Oh, nothing,’ I say, but that’s not true.