"After you," I said after our perfectly timed kiss.
Liam led the way into the restaurant and I followed close behind him.
Once inside, we were escorted to our table by the friendly-looking maitre d'.
"Oh," I said when we reached the table. It was beautifully appointed, but it was tucked away in the far corner of the restaurant, away from the front window.
"Is there a problem, sir?" she asked with an apprehensive smile.
"Is this table okay with you?" I asked Liam. "It's—it's quite far away from the front."
I was trying to be discreet and stay in fake-boyfriend mode.
"It's perfect," Liam said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Once we were seated and the maitre d' had handed me the wine menu, Liam leaned in closer and smiled. "I actually called the restaurant after Parker had made the reservation and requested this particular table."
"You did?" I almost dropped the wine menu onto the table. "Why?"
He leaned back and sucked his lower lip in between his teeth. "I know it's a fake date and all," he began. "But I just thought it would be nice if we could talk...for real. The photographers have what they want anyway, it's not like they're going to be eavesdropping on us all night. I thought this might be...nice. You know, give us a chance to get to know each other a bit?"
My heart started doing a happy dance in my chest.
"I'd love that," I said. I probably had the goofiest smile on my face, but I didn't care.
The only part of this entire fake relationship arrangement that I had been dreading was having to spend so much time together without it being real or sincere. A quick kiss for the cameras was fine, but spending an entire dinner in silence, or worse, only chitchatting about bullshit like the local sports team or the weath—well, maybe not the weather since I doubted that was a boring topic for him—didn't really appeal to me.
I liked Liam's idea...a lot.
He intrigued me and I couldn't wait to learn more about him. Once we had ordered our meals—confit of ocean trout, creamed beets, grilled polenta, green peas, and a dozen freshly shucked Pacific oysters for the appetizer, which he suggested we share, and a duck and cognac parfait for his entrée and a beef bourguignon for me, paired with the server's wine recommendations— I was ready to fire away some questions.
Before I had the chance, though, a question came flying straight at me.
"So," he asked with a devilish glimmer in his eye. "I've been meaning to ask you this since the first day I saw you, and I don't mean this in an objectifying way, but...how on earth did you get the body that you have?"
I let out a flat chuckle.
"Oh, you mean this thing?" I said, looking down at my chest. "I picked it up on Amazon. Got it for a good price too."
He laughed and quickly covered his mouth, as if he were worried it would be too loud.
"Actually, I've always been big. I was six feet tall by the time I was twelve."
I paused as the server returned with our wine.
"That is big," Liam said as we clinked our glasses together.
"I was always super into sports as a kid."
"Any sports in particular?" he asked. "Mmm, this wine is good."
I tasted it too.
"Yes, it's very good," I agreed. “I liked all sports. Hockey, basketball, football, tennis, you name it. But I was also strong, and I fell in love with weightlifting."
"Really?" Liam's eyebrows shot up, causing his forehead to crinkle delectably.
"Yes, really," I said with a nod. "I got really good at it actually. I made it to nationals when I was in high school. That's how I got into Daylesford University. It was on a sports scholarship for weightlifting."
"So what happened?" Liam asked, bringing the wine glass to his mouth. "I mean, why didn't you pursue it professionally after college?"
"The age-old issue. I hurt my lower back, pulled a disc. Pretty badly, actually. I completely ruptured the disc and had severe herniation of the nucleus through the annular wall.”
“I don’t know what any of those words mean, but they sound painful.”
I could see Liam's gray eyes filled with worry.
"It all worked out for the best, though," I said, and for some reason my hand reached across the table to touch his. "I started Elite Fitness and have spent the last sixteen years building it up."
Even though now, it was falling down all around me.
Liam looked down at our hands, entwined on the table, but didn't say anything. I couldn't be sure, but I thought I did see a slight smile brighten his face.
"That's a huge achievement. It's really impressive," he said, looking up at me, his smile deepening.
"Yeah, well, I think I might be ready for something new," I said, taking a sip of wine.
"Have you got anything in mind?"
"I do, actually."
Liam looked at me expectantly.
"I guess my whole life has been about physical health, you know? Sports, weightlifting, the gyms. So I think I'd like to move into something that deals with mental health. I'm actually looking into studying psychology."
Liam's eyes widened.
"That's amazing," he said, squeezing my hand. "I am such a big believer in people following their passions. I love that you're doing that."
His youthful optimism was hard to resist.
"What about you?" I said, finally able to turn the conversation around and ask him my first question of the evening. "Are you following your passions?"
He was saved from answering by the appetizers arriving.
As soon as the server had gone, I pressed him again. "Well?"
For some reason, he was drawing it out. He grabbed a lemon and squeezed it over the oysters, before picking one up and throwing it back. He chewed it in his mouth for what felt like longer than it should have taken. Something was going on with him, I just had no clue what.
"I had a twin brother, Toby," he said eventually.
"Oh, I didn't know that," I said, surprised.
There was no mention of a brother on his Wikipedia page.
"He died when we were eight."
Liam looked away as my heart sank for him. The pain was clearly evident in his voice. I couldn't even imagine what that kind of loss would have felt like, especially for a child at that age.
"I'm so sorry, Liam," I said, wanting to touch him again, but he had moved his hand back, his fingers resting on the edge of the table.
"No one knows," he said, looking at me.
"I won't tell anyone, I swear."
His eyes softened and he shot me a fragile smile.
"I know you won't," he said softly. "I trust you, Hudson."
I didn't know what to say, but he opened his mouth, ready to tell me the story.
“We used to be really outdoorsy kids,” he began, and I remembered him starting off his story about why he got into weather in the same way. But this time, his voice was laced with a sincerity that I realized had been missing when he told me the story before.
“We were outside all day long, just playing and having fun. We’d get so tired that we’d lie on the grass and just look up at the sky, you know?”