Twenty-Two ➳ l.p.

Chapter Seventeen: In Place

I waved Liam away from where he was about to enter my room. “No, no! I just cleaned it and everything’s in place. Go away!”

                  “You’re such a girl,” he rolled his eyes.

                  “That’s why you love me.”

                  And maybe he didn’t really blush and duck his head, but I’d like to pretend that he did.

Chapter Seventeen: In Place

                  The next time that I saw Liam was two days later. My dad was mowing the grass and Matt and I were lazily throwing a tennis ball to each other around him, dodging the mower and little spats of grass. I had actually wanted to be inside, if I’m honest, but my mum had kicked us all out because it was such a great day, and I’ll be darned if I have my two kids stuck inside! (Her words, not mine.)

                  So that’s what we were doing, and had been doing for the past twenty minutes—annoying my dad and making my mum satisfied.

                  “He’s been staring at you through the window for the past five minutes,” Matt laughed when he chucked the ball—narrowly missing my ponytail—into the air. I barely caught it and danced out of the pathway of my dad and his grass-destroying machine.

                  “Who?”

                  My brother easily caught the ball, raising his brows in a smirk (well it’s not like he didn’t know that he was more athletic than me, or anything). “Liam, of course. Been looking at you through the window like a lost puppy.”

                  I scoffed at that, missing the ball and gingerly glancing up once I had retrieved it. Sure enough, Liam was looking at me through the thin glance of his kitchen window, giving me a tiny (and probably embarrassed) wave.

                  “Go talk to him,” Matt chuckled when I tossed the tennis ball back. “I’ll be here all day.”

                  I gave him a gracious nod before heading over to Liam’s backyard, slipping in through the glass door and into the kitchen, where Liam turned to stare at me with a low chuckle.

                  “I have a feeling that I thought I was a lot more inconspicuous than I actually was.”

                  “You weren’t exactly a spy in your past life,” I laughed back, rolling my eyes and heading to his fridge for a bottle of water. “You could’ve just come outside with us, you know.”

                  Liam shrugged and I hopped onto the countertop—even though that was probably really unsanitary—taking a swig from the bottle and wiping my damp forehead. I could really care less about how I looked in front of Liam; he had seen me at all extremes, but I didn’t necessarily like feeling sweaty and icky around him. “So what are you guys doing today?”

                  “We weren’t really planning on anything,” Liam replied easily, leaning against the counter next to me. We were close enough that my legs could touch his sweatpants-clad thigh, and my arm was flush against his. “Harry got us spotted yesterday, so we’ll be laying low for a little bit.”

                  “Makes sense,” I hummed, eyes wandering to the thick black arrows on his forearm. I traced them with my eyes before cagily running my finger along the outline of the first one, watching him quietly. He tensed a bit, eyelashes lowering but he didn’t say anything else. “I never really imagine you’d get a tattoo.”