We sat for a while, kicking our feet lightly against the thick, salty air, the birds and lapping of water against the wooden beams below us our only companions. I took his hand and laced our fingers together, resting them on his thigh.
If supporting him was an accomplishment, then loving Liem Lott was an honor.
“Do you want to open it?” I asked quietly.
“Yes,” he answered just as softly.
I rearranged us so my back was against the thick wooden post, then pulled Liem between my legs, guiding him to lean back against my front and sighing with my entire being at the feel of him.
Then I handed him my keys and started to play with his shorter hair, wondering if I could still braid it.
He hoisted the box into his lap, ran his finger over the gritty texture of the thick material, and then pushed the key inside.
It clicked open.
I held my breath.
And as he pulled out each item, one by one, I fell impossibly deeper in love with him.
First was the crumpled drawing of theMona Lisa.The bad one. The one I’d taken to Waffle House.
That made him smile.
The scrap of napkin I’d written his number down on with purple ink… and the purple pen I’d done so with and then stolen.
That made him laugh as I explained it. I really did have issues.
Then sets of plastic Mardi Gras beads from the parade, the first time I held him in my arms. A photo of him at last Thanksgiving, though technically it was more than just him, but he was at the center of it, his smile so broad and genuine.
I’d stolen the photo from Bree.
“I think I’m actually a criminal,” I said through a laugh. “I thought this would be so romantic, but now that you’re opening this, it feels more like an unintended self-intervention.”
Liem turned to me, his eyes full of unshed tears. “This is…,” he started but then rolled his lips inward as the first tear fell. “This is the best, Cody. Truly.”
“We can add to it,” I explained as I brushed away his tear with my thumb. “You know, make it our box, instead of just my Liem box.”
“Your Liem box?” he asked.
I smiled in a weird fucking way, sheepishly and with my teeth clamped together. “That’s what I call it. In my head. I have a Bree box too. And Bree has a Bree box, but she doesn’t know she still has it. Cause I stole it from her closet too. When I was there stealing the pictures.”
“You’re rambling,” Liem said through a choked laugh-smile, his eyes still wet with moisture. “I love when you ramble. And when you do crimes.”
I dropped my head to his shoulder and huffed. “Nailed it. Thank God I already told you I love you. This would’ve sucked.”
He shook underneath me with what I thought was a laugh, but then a choked sound came from his throat, and I panicked, lifting him by the hips and turning him to straddle me.
“Baby?”
His face was crumpled, but I still couldn’t determine if he was crying or laughing.
“Liem?”
I ran my hands up and down his back, trying to soothe him—and myself—and he offered me a watery smile, his body still shaking. “You’re perfect, Cody.”
“As long as you think so,” I hedged. “I added one more thing to the box this morning, but I took it out before bringing it here so it wouldn’t be confusing.”
He threaded his fingers through my hair, then rested them on my neck. “Tell me.”
