“Don't eat that. It must have freezer burn. It's been here since you left.”
“I don't mind,” he said, eating the ice cream, and glancing at her.
“So what do you want to say?” She was still looking fierce, and he smiled.
“I wanted to say that I love you. I thought you should know.”
“I love you, too. That doesn't make any difference. We drove each other nuts. I hurt your feelings. You broke my heart. You walked out. It's impossible. We know that. We don't need to prove it again. We've done that twice. That's more than enough for me.” It had been four months, and she still wasn't over him. If he left again, it would take even longer to get over him. Losing him twice had been bad enough. She wasn't going to try again, no matter how irresistible he was. She was going to listen to her head this time, not her heart. Her heart had gotten her into trouble with him before. Every time.
“Third time's the charm,” he said, as he finished the ice cream, washed out the bowl, and put it in the dishwasher. “Look how well trained I am. Why waste that on someone else?”
“You just look trained. You're one of those big sloppy dogs that wag their tail, fetch, and play ball. But you're not housebroken, and I know it.”
“Neither are you. We deserve each other,” he said confidently.
“I am too. I am extremely civilized. In every way.” She drew herself up to her full height to look daunting, and failed abysmally. Liam wasn't impressed, or daunted. He was in love with her, not afraid of her.
“Yes, you are civilized, I'll admit. But you're also the most stubborn woman I know.”
“Have you been taking a survey?” she asked, looking suspicious. “Xavier said he ran into you with some young girl, younger than Tati.”
“There have been a lot of young girls since I was stupid enough to leave you. They bore me to tears. Sasha, I don't know what you did to me when we met, but I can't live without you. I want to come back. I love you. I promise I'll be good this time.”
“You were good last time,” she said, looking at him sadly. “You were fantastic. I was happy with you. I love you too. But I can't deal with your wacky artist bullshit. Every time I expect you to be respectable, you think I'm trying to control you. Your feelings get hurt if you feel criticized in any way, and you think I'm ostracizing you like your father. I'm not, but I can't always do everything you want. And for you, that means Hiroshima every time it happens. Whenever you get insulted, you walk out.”
“I felt left out,” he explained, as though that made a difference. But the end result was still that he had ended it, and left. And it was now four months later. Too late for her, or so she wanted him to believe.
“I know you felt left out. I've had a shit time without you. But I didn't want to lose my daughter forever because I sided with you. It was too soon.”
“I understand that now. It took me a while to get it, but I do.” He was sitting at the kitchen table as though waiting to sign a contract with her.
“What do you want from me, Liam?” she asked, looking frightened and frustrated. “You make me insane.”
“We are insane. Both of us. Insanely in love with each other. Maybe it's a sickness. I don't know. Maybe we should get treatment for it. All I know is that every time I see you, I know I can't live without you. And don't tell me you don't feel the same thing. I know you do. You're just politer than I am, and more adult, or something like that. I wanted to crawl right into that cab with you tonight, but you didn't invite me, so I got my own and came up here to see you. You could at least have invited me to come back here for a drink,” he said, sounding insulted, but he wasn't. He was teasing her, and she knew it. “I offered to bring you home, and I meant it.”
“And then what? We do something stupid? And what happens after that? We have a great month, or two or three, and then you walk out on me again the next time I hurt your feelings. Liam, I won't do it.”
“Well, I'm not leaving till you say you will. I want to spend Christmas with you. Actually, I want to spend my life with you. I need you. You're the only woman in the world who understands me, and actually cares about me, and takes care of me.”
“I don't want to be your mother, Liam,” she said sternly, “no matter how old I am.”
“All men want to be mothered. It's the nature of the beast.” Someone else had told her that, and she couldn't remember who. She was trying to think, but it didn't matter. What he was saying was crazy, no matter how beautiful and appealing he was, or how sexy. “I like that you're older than I am. You make more sense than I do.”
“That's because you don't want to grow up.”
“You can be grown up for both of us. I give you permission.” He looked as though he thought he had solved the problem, but he hadn't, for her at least.
“You have to be a grown-up, too.”
“I hate that part,” he said, snapping his fingers.
“Can't I be a wacky artist till I'm eighty? By then, you can just tell people I'm senile.”
“You can be a wacky artist now, just not all the time.” Although he hadn't been all the time before, either. Just selectively, like at the barbecue, where he had been flat-out outrageous, not just wacky. No one would ever forget it, and certainly not she. “It doesn't matter what we agree to, Liam. It still won't work. It just won't. It didn't. It really is impossible.”
“That's bullshit. It is possible. You just don't want it to be.”
“Why wouldn't I want it to be possible? Why wouldn't I want to be with you if I love you, which I do? I never stopped loving you. You're the one who walked out. I didn't. You're the one who made it impossible, and proved it. You convinced me. I was thinking it was possible right about then, until you went nuts over Tati, although I'll admit, she was awful to you.”
“She was and I was stupid. I don't know, Sasha. What can I tell you? Other than Beth, you're the only woman I've ever loved. Maybe I'm a slow learner, or dyslexic or something. All I know is I get it now.”
“It's too late,” she said sadly. She didn't want it to be, but it was. For both of them. They couldn't do this again, no matter how tempting.
“It's not,” he insisted.
“It is.” She was as stubborn as he. More so this time.
“I'm going to get drunk in a minute if you don't stop arguing with me. You give me no other choice.”
For a minute, she thought he meant it. “Do you want a drink?”
“No, I want you.” He got down on bended knee in her kitchen. They still hadn't made it out of the kitchen, and she laughed at him.
“You look ridiculous, stop that. Get up, for God's sake.”
“I won't till you agree to try again. Oh hell, Sasha, what have we got to lose?”
“Our sanity. Mine anyway. I damn near lost it last time.”
“I won't do that again. I promise.”
“You'll do something else worse. I know you will.”
“Then what? So we'll fight for a while, and figure it out. It's a learning process. I'm a slow learner, but God, woman, I love you.”
“You're impossible.”
“Maybe I am. But this relationship isn't.” He walked over then and did what he had wanted to do all evening, and the night before, and hadn't dared. He kissed her, and put his arms around her. He didn't stop until they were both breathless. “I love you,” he said hoarsely.
“I love you, too,” she whispered. “Please, Liam … don't do this to me.” She was absolutely incapable of resisting him, and she knew it. She wanted him too much.
“Please, Sash, give us a chance …,” he whispered back. She looked at him long and hard, and then as though someone else had done it for her, totally out of her control, she nodded yes, and then closed her eyes.
With a single gesture, he swept her up in his arms, walked into her bedroom, and laid her down on the bed they had shared that summer. She lay watching him while he undressed, wondering at the insanity of what they were doing, and profoundly unable to resist him.