making me wince. I couldn’t make out what he’d said because EMF’s “Unbelievable” blared from the loudspeakers. Turned out the song was quite fitting.
“What?” I shouted back. “Why are you buying land?”
“Thai-land,” he yelled. “I’m going to Thailand.” He held up two thumbs, swaying a little, not to the music, but because of the many vodka and Cokes. “On a trip.”
“Thailand?” I felt my face scrunch up into a puzzled look. “When?”
Dwayne pulled me to one side of the bar and away from the speaker where it was marginally quieter. “Day after tomorrow,” he said, taking a sudden interest in his size eleven feet.
“Eh? You’re kidding!” I wondered if he was going to start making fun of my expression, tell me it was all a joke. If it was, I didn’t get it.
He lit up a Benson & Hedges and blew the smoke out of his nostrils, kind of like a cartoon bull. “It’s a spiritual trip,” he said. “You know, to reconnect with nature. I need to find myself.”
“Find yourself?” He was twenty-three, worked as a mechanic at a local garage, lived with his parents. Where, exactly, had he lost himself?
“We’ll start seeing each other again when I’m back.” He dragged deeply on his cigarette, the orangey glow lighting up his face. I’d always hated the smoky taste when he kissed me, even after he’d munched his way through half a packet of mints.
“When will you be back?” I tried to keep the whine out of my voice.
“I don’t know, babe.” He blew out a steady stream of smoke, then pulled me closer. “When I feel at one with Mother Nature. Or when I run out of cash.”
“But when did you decide?” I shouted as the music switched to R.E.M.’s “Shiny Happy People,” telling us to throw our love around. Oh, yeah? The only thing I wanted to throw was a slap in Dwayne’s direction.
He shrugged. “I booked it last month. I—”
“Last month?” This time there was definite whining, and I cringed.
“See.” Dwayne shook his head, and I realized he must have confused my self-directed contempt for emotional upset related to his imminent departure. “This is why I didn’t bring it up. I knew you wouldn’t understand.” And then he actually pursed his lips.
God, I hated it when he sulked. Come to think of it, over the past few weeks I’d hated pretty much everything he’d done. A few days ago I’d told him I was ill so I didn’t have to endure The Last Boy Scout. I’d watched Fried Green Tomatoes alone that night instead. The week before I’d said my period had come early because I wasn’t in the mood. Again. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been in the mood. But all that aside, dumping me on New Year’s Eve was a shitty move by any standards.
“You know what, Dwayne? Have a great trip and a happy bloody 1992.”
I pushed past him, fully intent on retrieving my coat from the back of the bar so I could go home, curl up in bed and ignore the rest of the world’s celebrations. But the bar’s resident DJ Joe had other plans. The music stopped.
“Okay, everybody,” he said into his mike. “Grab your partner—or whoever you’d like to have as your partner tonight—and get ready. Only a few more seconds. Gird your loins, people, because... Here. We. Go!”
Everybody chanted, “Ten...”
As I pushed past a few more sweaty bodies I felt a hand on my arm.
“Nine...”
I was ready to turn around and tell my now ex-boyfriend to let me go. But when I heard a man’s voice in my ear, it wasn’t Dwayne’s.
“It’s bad luck to start the New Year without a kiss.”
“...eight...seven...”
Oh, come on. Did I have a Lonely Hearts Loser sign stuck to my back? Nice voice, though.
“...six...five...four...”
I turned around. Eyes, those eyes. Gray. Clear. Mesmerizing. I couldn’t help but stare.
“...three...two...”
“I’m Liam,” he said. His face moved closer. He put his index finger underneath my chin.
“...one.”
“And I’ve wanted to kiss you all night.”
I didn’t recall hearing the shouts of, “Happy New Year.”
All I could remember were his arms sliding around my waist, mine around his neck, and the multicolored fireworks going off in my head when our lips touched.
HE STOOD IN the doorway of Barbara Baker’s kitchen. Liam. My ex. The one man I’d loved more than life itself. I’d walked away from him, twice, and the last time I’d told him we’d never, ever see each other again. And yet, here he was. Living in the house next door.
“Hello,” he said, and swallowed. He looked at Sarah, then at me with those gray eyes. Wolf eyes, I used to call them. Hypnotic, hungry, searching.
I took a deep breath, realizing I’d held it since I’d heard his voice. My legs were planted firmly on the ground, heels pushed in, my arms crossed. A statue. What the hell should I say?
“Hello,” I muttered. “I—I’m...pleased to meet you.”
Had I said that out loud?
After a second he turned to Nate and shrugged. “I’m sorry.” He smiled, and I noticed his laughter lines had become a lot deeper since we’d last seen each other, but they suited him. “I’m hopeless with names.” He looked at me again. “Nate told me, but I’m afraid I’ve forgotten.”
“Abby,” Nate, Nancy and I said together, my voice twice as loud as theirs combined.
“Abby,” Liam said slowly, deliberately. “So sorry. I’m Liam.”
“Well, yes, we—” I stopped myself. We knew each other. Of course we did. I wanted to laugh, make a joke about it being a small world and wasn’t it a strange coincidence, ha, ha, ha. But I kept quiet. I should have said something. Made it abundantly clear there was history between us. A shared past. I had the opportunity. But I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to say anything.
Liam held out his hand, and when I shook it I swear an electric current passed between us. It flowed out of him and into me, washing over my entire body like a surfer’s wave. I hadn’t felt his touch for so long, but it was as if every pore of my skin remembered him. I looked into his eyes, tried to gauge his reaction, wondered if he’d felt it, too. He must have, surely. It had been too intense to ignore.
“Pleasure to meet you, too.” He let go of my fingers, his eyes giving nothing away, and turned to
