What The Heart Learns

by Gadziala, Jessica

  "What?" she asked, watching his gray eyes dance a bit.

  "Felt like shit for a while, so I didn't hit the market. Ate all that crap I bought for you."

  "And look, you're still alive!" she declared, smiling. "I learned how to cook," she told him, since they were sharing. "Like, actually cook. With vegetables and everything."

  "Yeah?"

  "And, look, you're still alive too," he told her. "So, are you going to sign it?" he asked, reaching down to retrieve the book, placing it on the table in front of her.

  "On the title page, or the acknowledgments page?"

  "Why would you sign the acknowledgments page?"

  He didn't know.

  He hadn't seen it.

  She wasn't surprised, per se.

  No one really read that, those obnoxiously long pages that always sort of sounded like they were obligatory instead of heartfelt.

  She had never read a single one until she had become an author herself, after which finding some of them had so much sincerity to them that they made her feel a deep connection to the author.

  Silently, she flipped the book open to the page, grabbing her pen, initialing right beside the passage about him before handing the book back to him with her pen holding the page.

  With drawn together brows, Liam reached for it, flipping it open, eyes scanning for a second before he honed in.

  This book never would have been possible if not for a man who was my worst critic but also by truest friend, the only person brave enough to challenge me to do what set my soul on fire, no matter the consequences. I will forever be grateful to him. Thank you, Liam. PS: VOX.

  She watched the emotion in his eyes for a long moment before a slow, sly smile spread over his face.

  "VOX?" he asked, brow raised.

  "Three clues. Dystopian. Counting. Female author. VOX by Christina Dalcher was the answer. I figured it out as I was packing my car to leave. You owe me an answer."

  He shook his head, leaning back down. "Deathwish and Gevalia Light Roast mixed."

  "Why?"

  "Deathwish is strong, but lighter roasts have more caffeine. So you get the boldness of Deathwish with the kick of the light roast."

  "The perfect cup of coffee."

  "Exactly."

  "Here," she said, reaching for his book again. "I need to sign it still," she told him, flipping to the title page to do so. "There you go. All set. Did you come to the city to get your book signed?"

  "No," he admitted, shaking his head. "I came to see you. This just gave me an excuse."

  "You didn't need an excuse."

  "It seemed like I did, Ry. You were so upset when you left."

  Her head hung at that, shaking a bit. "I blow hot and cold. You knew that from the first day we met."

  "This was different. You seemed done with me."

  "I think I just needed some space to think. But then..."

  "I let you have too much space," he guessed.

  "It's not like you could have known that."

  "I could have. I chose not to come up after you had some time to settle in."

  "From the sound of things, you weren't in the best place either."

  "I didn't open the store for two weeks," he admitted.

  "What? And Maude and her lady friends didn't show up with pitchforks demanding their next alphahole-MC-cowboy-duke-kingpin book?"

  "You'd think. Maybe they did. I wouldn't have noticed."

  Because he had fallen into books, disappeared into other worlds. She didn't need to ask to know that was what had happened. Just as she had done when crippled by heartache.

  Heartache.

  Could that be the right word?

  For him.

  For what he had felt when she had left.

  Broken.

  Heartbroken.

  Even though she had been the one to end it. Even though she had been the one to walk away.

  It didn't take away the pain of losing him, losing what they had found within each other, a bond like nothing she had ever truly known before.

  "Can I help you clean up?" he asked unexpectedly, making her snap out of her wandering thoughts.

  "I am just about done actually. The table and chair belongs here. I just need to lug the rest of this swag stuff back out of here." He looked a little lost at that, making her realize he was looking for an in, a chance to talk to her more. "How about I make you something to eat?" she asked, giving him a small smile.

  "Not something from a box or can," he specified. "I think I just got all the salt and sugar out of my system from my binge on your junk food."

  "Don't be dramatic. That was months ago."

  "That shit sticks around," he insisted.

  "I will make you something healthy," she clarified. "We can hit the market so you can approve the ingredients."

  "Sounds like a plan," he agreed, taking her box from her, carefully tucking his book on top, then reaching out to offer her his hand.

  She took it, swearing she could hear a groan or two from her new fanbase. "I think I just broke their hearts," Liam murmured, clearly hearing it too.

  "They're nice enough. Need to learn not to stare so much, but nice."

  "These are your people now," Liam reminded her. "The sci-fi and fantasy crowd. More likely to be a bit standoffish and geeky than your other fanbase."

  "That's okay. I am a bit standoffish and geeky myself."

  "Perfect fit," he said and he still hadn't released her hand. Not only didn't he release it, but his fingers moved to twine between hers, giving her hand a firm squeeze as if to make sure she knew he was still holding on. "So... I don't know where I'm going."

  "Well, is your car here?"

  "It's parked at the lot near my hotel. I drove up yesterday after I saw your post about the signing. I needed somewhere to crash."

  "Okay, well, then we walk," she declared. It wasn't far from her place, there was the perfect fall crispness to the air, and, well, she wanted to keep walking, keep feeling his hand squeeze hers, his arm brush against her arm.

  "How do you deal with the noise here?" he asked after a few blocks, cringing a bit when a cabbie laid on his horn to the chorus of people screaming at him.

  "I actually had to get a white noise machine since I came back. I never noticed the noise much before. And was certainly never bothered by it. But after Stars Landing, everything seems to make me jump or wake up. Though my sister thinks my chances for ending up decapitated and thrown in a river are a lot less here in the city."

  "Wait... what?"

  "It's her theory. The murders that always end up on Forensic Files or Cold Justice or whatever always end up being in quiet places like Stars Landing."

  "The biggest crime that has happened in Stars Landing was when someone stole the pig statue off the butcher shop and attached it to the roof of the high school instead."

  "That's why there's a pig on the school? Why didn't anyone put it back?"

  "Because Eric and Dane soldered it to the roof. Then cemented it in."

  "No way! Did they get in trouble?"

  "Trouble? In Stars Landing? They were just given janitorial duties at the school and had to pay back the butcher. Who then got the cow statue instead."

  "So much I don't know about the town still," she said, tone longing.

  "I can tell you anything you want to know, Ry," he told her, giving her hand another of those squeezes. And this time, she'd swear she felt it around her heart too.

  "Here we go. This is my market," she told him, pulling him inside, grabbing a handcart, and going around the produce section, tossing things in, pretending not to notice the way Liam's face was a mask of surprise and confusion.

  Until, of course, she threw in a box of Devil Dogs. "Thank God," he said, shaking his head at her. "I was starting to think you were some alien body double or something. A whole handcart full of vegetables."

  "I plan to eat the entire box for dessert. You can have exactly one. And I might reserve the right to have a bite
of yours too."

  "That shit is all yours," he declared as they loaded up the conveyer belt at the counter, looking to everyone around like a happy, loving couple. And, inwardly, she longed for that. If she were being truthful, she had longed for it since she had left. Before that even.

  "Are you ready to eye-fuck the hell out of my bookshelves? They're beautiful, so they are used to it," she told him as they made their way down the hall from the elevator. Feeling an odd surge of uncertainty, wondering a bit if he had felt the same way when she had first seen his place, she opened the door, moved inside, invited him in.

  "Ry, honey, houseplants need light," he told her with a chuckle in his voice as he walked over to her heavy drapes, yanking them open to let the light stream in, giving her poor, abused pothos what it so desperately needed.

  "I suck with plants," she admitted. "My sister sounded ready to take it away with her when I came back."

  "They also need water," he added, sticking his finger in dirt that must have been dry since she didn't remember the last time she'd watered it. "They literally only need those two things," he added, shaking his head at her as he moved into her kitchen like he belonged there, taking a glass out of her drainboard, filling it, walking back into her living room, and giving her plant water.

  There it was again.

  The heart squeeze.

  "You were right," he said, walking back to the kitchen to put the cup back into the drainboard.

  Right?

  She couldn't remember saying anything, too occupied with her science-defying heart sensation.

  "About what?"

  "Those bookshelves are sexy," he told her, smirking. "My bookshelf game is lacking."

  "Only in your apartment," she agreed. "The bookstore is perfect."

  There was a long pause, both of them looking at each other, millions of unsaid words between them.

  "So, what are all those ingredients making?"

  "Vegetable jambalaya," she informed him. "I've made exactly five edible meals since I got back here. Stir-fry, minestrone soup, a cheesy vegetable casserole, and vegetable jambalaya."

  "That's a good start," he encouraged her.

  "I burn eggs," she admitted, shaking her head at herself. "Every time. No matter how I make them. But if you put cheese and ketchup on them, you'd never know."

  "Ketchup?" he asked, scrunching his face up at her.

  "Shush. At least it isn't a whole extra cheese pizza for myself."

  "That's not even a breakfast food."

  "It is when you wake up at ten, get functioning around eleven, conveniently when the local pizza place fires up their ovens."

  He just shook his head at her, but she could see the ghost of a smile on his lips while he did so. "So, can I help?"

  "You can slice," she decided, pushing the knife toward him along with the pile of veggies as she got to work on all the spices and the rice.

  A couple hours later, they were finishing up their food, eating on the couch like barbarians since she still didn't have a table.

  But it didn't matter.

  Because it all just... fell back into place.

  They fell back into place.

  Talking, gushing, griping about books.

  Then he caught her up on the town happenings.

  "Oh, God. Poor Dane and Cordy," she said, pressing a hand to her heart, it cracking a bit for the couple she had rooted so hard for, even from afar.

  "Yeah," Liam agreed, shaking his head.

  "I mean I'm glad he is stepping up and everything, but the whole situation just... sucks."

  Liam's hand grabbed her knee, giving it a squeeze before taking her bowl, putting it off onto the coffee table with his. He moved back slowly, gazed fixed across the room.

  "What?" she asked when she couldn't take the silence anymore.

  Which was about... four-point-five seconds later.

  His gaze slowly lifted, turned to hold hers.

  "Would you ever consider coming back?" he asked, the vulnerability clear in his tone. "Not just for a vacation. Not just for the holidays and town events," he clarified. "Would you consider coming back for good?"

  Her belly fluttered at his words, at the possibilities behind them.

  "I miss it," she admitted. "Almost as much as I miss you," she added, pressing her head into his shoulder.

  "So you'll think about it? I know you have a life here, family here..."

  "I moved across the country on a whim when I was eighteen," she reminded him. "My family is used to me finding new places to call home. And as much as I have tried to befriend my neighbors," she went on, shaking her head, "I haven't found a new Devon or Meggie or Em or Dane. I mean, the sports medicine guy hooked me up with a great brace..."

  "Brace?"

  "Carpal tunnel."

  "That story really did come out in a fury, huh?"

  "Yeah," she agreed, moving her legs across his lap, sinking into him when his arms went around her. "Hey Liam..."

  "Yeah?"

  "This is a lot of books to pack up."

  His arms squeezed again, pleased, excited, knowing that was her answer, that she didn't need to think about it anymore.

  "I'm more worried about the bookshelves." He paused there, fingers stroking down her back, making her wish she'd worn her hair down so they could sift through that instead. But there was time for that. Later. In bed. After she finally put an end to all the sexual frustration she'd been feeling for months. "But I think they're going to look great in my place."

  There was no stopping the smile that pulled at her lips then.

  Sure.

  Content.

  Happy.

  God, happy.

  "Don't be thinking you are going to be shoving your books all in with mine. Get your own shelves. Honestly, piling your books in cabinets..."

  His hand moved up her neck to tug a bit at her hair.

  "Think we're going to need a place with a library one day."

  "Oh, with one of those ladders, so I can do a full on Belle impression?"

  "I think that can be arranged," he agreed, and she could hear the smile in his voice. It matched the one she felt inside. "When do you want to do this?" he asked.

  "Do what?"

  "Move back to Stars Landing? Move in with me?"

  "Tomorrow?" she asked, knowing it wasn't possible, but wanting him to know how anxious she was for that, to start over, no secrets, no resentments, just them, just connection, just the promise of amazing things to come.

  "What? Not right this very minute?" he asked, playing with her.

  "Nope. Because right this very moment, I think I need to give you a tour of my bedroom," she told him, scooting up to straddle his lap. "I think you would be very interested in what kind of sheets I have on my bed."

  "Oh yeah? We should go check that out," he agreed, eyes getting hooded as his hands drifted down, sinking into her ass, pulling her tighter to his body as he carried her into her room.

  A while later, bodies spent, curled under sheets that were in no way special except for the fact that they had all the Hogwarts houses on them, he curled her into his body, fingers moving up to stroke through her hair like she had been craving.

  And she knew it.

  Right down to her marrow.

  She was in love with Liam.

  And not the kind of love that happened when two people just happened to spend a lot of time together.

  Oh, no.

  Cheesy, sappy, sentimental, over-the-top romance novel kind of in love with him.

  Maybe she and Maude would start a bookclub when she went back to Stars Landing.

  "What?" Liam asked, making her aware that the snort she had thought was just in her head, hadn't been.

  And because she was who she was, this person who could never hold her tongue, who never thought anything through, she let a shoulder shrug.

  "I love you," she told him,voice smaller than usual.

  It felt like an eternity of silence, but likely only span
ned the space between heartbeats.

  "Love you too, Riley," he told her, giving her body a squeeze. "Seriously?" he asked a few seconds later when he caught her reaching for the Devil Dogs on the nightstand, the plastic crinkling.

  "What? I think this is cause for celebration, don't you?" she asked, smiling at him as she plowed through a box of Devil Dogs before curling back on his chest, letting out a breath that she felt like she had been holding for weeks, months, forever.

  Home.

  She had finally found a home.

  A place to put down her roots, let them settle deep, build a life around them.

  With him.

  EPILOGUE

  Riley - One week

  Once the decision had been made, she had been impatient to get moving, an itch to leave the likes of which she had never felt before. And she knew all about that wanderlust itch.

  But when you found your place, your little corner of the world, your own little slice of perfection, delaying spending your life there felt torturous.

  Riley, slow down. We're not in a rush.

  That was what Liam had told her the very next morning after making her coffee that wasn't his perfect coffee, leaving her irrationally angry at the grounds that had always been perfectly sufficient before as she came bursting into the apartment with boxes she had swiped from behind the stores on the street, ripping books off her shelves to pile in.

  But she was in a rush.

  To get started.

  To fall back into the swing of things.

  Her apartment felt all wrong.

  So within six days, everything she was keeping was packed up, labeled, Liam's car was filled to the brim, the movers were there, and she was sitting shotgun in Liam's SUV, heading back to Stars Landing.

  Passing by the Welcome to Stars Landing sign had made the back and butt ache worth it as her heart swelled in her chest.

  Right.

  It felt so, so right to be back.

  The town was dark, making her lips curl upward.