“Yet you brought me here?”
“I promised you something your stomach wouldn’t hate you for eating. I couldn’t think of anywhere better.”
The waitress walked by and set their check on the table on a black plastic tray. Coury snatched it up.
Liam reached for his wallet. “How much should I give you?”
“Nothing, this was my treat.”
Liam straightened, a funny flutter in his stomach. “What? No. I mean. You don’t need to do that.”
“I want to.” He dropped his credit card on the tray and slid it to the edge of the table. Raising his coffee in Liam’s direction, he said, “I need your last memory of this Friday Fun Night to be a good one.”
“The whole night was a good memory,” Liam said quietly. It wasn’t a date, but it was the best date Liam had ever had.
“What you remember of it, at least.” Coury sipped, keeping his gaze fixed on Liam.
Liam’s face flushed. The smart thing would be to own up and say he remembered the kiss, remembered everything. The rasp of Coury’s jaw, the soft, yielding pressure of his lips, the currents that had flowed through him at the brief touch of their tongues.
Coury had said—several times—that Liam hadn’t done anything to regret. And yet. Liam’s throat still glued up. Nervousness thwarted any possible progress.
Maybe it was how full the Flax Shack was or how he could hear snippets of neighboring conversations. He felt too exposed to talk about such private matters. Liam smiled, shakily.
He’d try again in the car.
Chapter Twelve
Coury
Coury snuck a peek at Liam typing a message to his parents. He’d borrowed one of Coury’s Harrison baseball hats and he looked so damn cute.
He would never be “little Liam” to Coury again. Not after that kiss. For too long he’d been Beckett’s “little bro,” always hovering on the periphery. Even when Liam came out, Coury had never considered dating him. The “bros law” clearly stated you didn’t date your best friend’s little brother. It was written.
Somewhere.
But Coury had tossed aside that silly bros law long before the kiss and confessed crush. The first step had been to see him as Liam and not Beckett’s little brother.
When he had . . . wow.
Knowing that—at least on an uninhibited level—they felt the same way could have resolved things. Liam had remembered everything: the kiss, the admission, the way he stuck to Coury all night. It could have been their opening to get it all out. Talk about what they were really doing.
With one denial, Liam had pushed that conversation further out of reach. Did Liam regret admitting his feelings?
Was something else holding him back?
“What’s wrong?” Liam asked.
Coury felt Liam studying him intently. “Nothing.”
“You made a face and shook your head.”
For a moment he toyed with lying, exactly what he wished Liam hadn’t done. “Just sorting out some stuff.”
Not a lie, but not the full answer, either.
Liam raised an eyebrow.
“Would you be mad if I said I don’t want to talk about it right now?”
