CHAPTER 30
DANIEL cannot wait for the workday to end. This morning, he debated packing a change of clothes so he wouldn’t show up in his work suit. By four thirty, he’s glad he decided against it. He’s bouncing out of his seat with impatience and the thought of staying here a second longer than he has to makes him want to stuff his head in his rarely used filing cabinet and close it. Repeatedly.
The seconds tick by even more slowly than they did last week. This burgeoning hope is bound to destroy him.
At a quarter to five, Jordan appears in his doorway. “It’s gone take you twenty minutes to get there, just go.”
“I feel weird leaving before five.”
“It’s one time, man. If anyone says anything, I got you,” he replies, and Daniel’s already standing up and sliding his laptop sleeve into his messenger bag. “You ready?”
Daniel shakes his head. “Oh God, not at all.”
“Bring it in,” Jordan says, arms outstretched. They hug tightly, and Jordan draws back, squeezing Daniel’s shoulder. “You got this. She’s been flirting with you since the moment you met, remember?”
“Antagonizing.”
He grins. “Same difference.”
Daniel drums his fingers on his knee the entire ride there. He’d probably do it on the walk from the bus stop, up the marble steps, and to the ticketing desk if it were anatomically possible. With only one hand free, he fumbles with his phone, trying to pull up the confirmation email.
“Would you like to put that down, honey?” the elderly woman at the kiosk asks, gesturing.
“Oh! Yeah, that would probably be easier.” He manages to retrieve the message and present the barcode to be scanned. The woman—her name tag reads VIOLET—hands him a physical ticket and wishes him a good visit. “Thank you, Violet.”
“Anything for you, sugar.” She winks. His confidence levels shoot dangerously close to Jordan’s as he makes his way out into the lobby.
It occurs to Daniel that he doesn’t really know what to do. The email Liyah sent the ticket in was only two words long: for you. He’s not even totally sure he interpreted it correctly. Maybe it’s a consolation prize. I don’t love you, our friendship is over, but I feel like I owe you a ticket to the exhibit I wouldn’t shut up about for the last six months. Sorry! Liyah wouldn’t do that, he doesn’t think, but he also didn’t think she’d ignore him for a week, so …
He heads toward the stairs. Should he look around first? Or go straight there? Maybe she expected him to meet her in her office. But then, why send the ticket? He should have texted her first. Except she still hasn’t texted him, and sextuple texting with no response must be some sort of federal offense.
The original plan was to see Evolving Us, so that’s what he’ll do. He ascends two steps at a time, avoiding eye contact with the passing museumgoers. The stairwell opens across from the exhibit, and he takes the opportunity to study the façade as he circumvents the atrium. The logo is punchy and eye-catching but easy to read; Siobhan’s done excellent work.
No sign of Liyah.
He pauses at the entrance, heart racing, unsure of his next move. Should he go in? Maybe she wants to talk to him after he’s finished the exhibit. Or maybe she does want him to go to her office, after all. But again, why the ticket? He wasn’t lying to Jordan. He’s not ready for this.
The heat in the Field feels like it’s set to maximum. He sets his bag and winter coat on the bench by the entrance and removes his suit jacket, rolling his shirtsleeves to his elbows. Resisting the urge to hang his head in his hands, he takes a seat and pulls out his phone. A minute passes.
“You’re not going to go in?”
Liyah.
Her chest is rapidly rising and falling with her breath, like she ran. There’s a gentle flush in her cheeks, a sheepish smile on her lips. The top half of her hair is pulled back in a puff of curls, giving him a full view of her deep, dark eyes and thick brows, the moles on her left cheek. So beautiful. All the blood in his body is replaced with pure adrenaline. He stands, hiding his hands behind his back.
“It’s good to see you.” God, is it good to see her. There’s a moment of silence, and Daniel awkwardly laughs.
“I’m glad you came. I wasn’t sure if you would.” She averts her eyes briefly, they skate up his face as they return to his. He so badly wants to take her hand.
“Does the ticket mean what I think it means?”
She nods.
His cheeks split with a grin. “And that is…?”
HE’S GOING TO make her spell it out, which she was prepared for. But now, it feels like there’s an immovable lump in her throat. His gaze is so piercing, Liyah is surprised he’s not able to read her thoughts.
She swallows. “It means a lot of things.”
Daniel quirks his eyebrow. “Like what?”
Liyah takes a deep breath. “Like, I’m sorry. For bringing up summer camp. You’re right, you had already apologized. That was petty. And I’m sorry for doing the air quotes, and for storming out, and for not reading your texts, and for not contacting you sooner.”
“And? What else does it mean?”
“And I miss you. So much it’s stupid. I miss you for me and I miss you for the rest of the club. I was really down the last few days.” She says it to his neck.
“And?” Daniel’s Adam’s apple bobs.
She glances to the exhibit entrance, her every instinct telling her to escape. But she won’t run. Daniel is worth more than that. At last, Liyah meets his eyes. “And I love you. I am fully in love with you. I’m very set in my opinions sometimes, but if there’s anybody who could change my mind on this, it’s you. I never thought I’d feel safe with someone like this, but it feels good to be cared for, and to care for you. I’ve felt this way for most of the time I’ve known you, but I was so sure I couldn’t be in love, because I thought that love meant rejection. Maybe it still will, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m in love with you. I don’t know how I thought I wasn’t, but I’m glad I know now. If you’ll have me, that is. If not, then I’m a little less glad, but I guess it’s better than not knowing.”
Daniel regards her carefully. “You’re sure? You could have called me or met up any other day this week.”
Liyah nods. “More than sure, Daniel. I finally realized on Saturday—”
“You could have told me this yesterday!?”
“I needed to figure out what I was going to say! This doesn’t come easy to me, you know.”
“I know. But you’re sure?”
She flicks him on his exposed forearm. “Yes, Daniel Woo-jin Rosenberg, for the eightieth time, I’m sure.”
“Thank God,” he says, finding the small of her back to pull her in. Then: “Can I kiss you?”
She answers by rising up and pressing her lips to his. Not too much, she’s technically at work, but enough for her to remember just how much she loves the feel of his lips against hers, her hand on his jaw, his fingers at the back of her neck, the smell of him. Old Spice Fiji and fresh laundry and the just him bit.
When they separate, he wears a dopey smile that must match her own. “I got you this,” he says, inserting a small pot into the narrow space between them.
“You got me a cactus?”
“I thought about flowers, but then I thought you’d tell me that getting you a dead plant was wasteful. I wasn’t sure how this was going to go, and I don’t trust myself to grow anything more complicated.”
Liyah laughs and kisses him again, not caring where they are. “I love it.”
“As much as you love me?”
“Not even close.” She wrinkles her nose. “Look at me, all mushy and gross. Don’t get used to it.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“You know, you haven’t said you love me yet.”
“I said it first!”
Liyah giggles. “In a bar with all our friends, and then over email! That doesn’t count.”
“Oh, my bad,” he says, wrapping her up in a tight hug. She positively melts against him. “I love you, Liyah. So, so much.”
She giggles again. (What is wrong with her?) “What now?”
“I think we’re together now, for real.”
“Daniel, I meant like what are we doing for the rest of the evening.”
“Oh. Do you have any more work to do?”
“Nope. Spent the whole day celebrating, and Siobhan even convinced Jeff on Malnati’s for lunch. Everyone else went home at like three; I stayed in my office trying not to hyperventilate until Violet told me you’d arrived.”
Daniel shakes his head, then leans in to press a kiss to her forehead. “You know, you really could have just sent me a text. Would have saved us both a lot of stress.”
Liyah steps back, just so he can see her roll her eyes. “Where’s the spice in that? The flavor? Come on, you can drop your stuff in my office and then I’ll show you the exhibition.” She slings his bag over her shoulder, takes his hand, and leads him through a door labeled STAFF ONLY.
When the door to the office clicks shut, Daniel asks, “What convinced you that you loved me, in the end?”
“Aside from feeling generally miserable while we weren’t talking—”
“While you weren’t talking to me.” He smiles, but it’s tentative.
“Right, that was bad,” Liyah replies softly. She reaches up to cup his cheek. “I promise not to do that again.”
Daniel leans into her hand, his smile brightening several watts. “Thank you.”
“As I was saying,” Liyah starts, dropping her hand to his shoulder. “Aside from general miserableness, I saw your ads on the train and started crying.”
The hand that isn’t holding his jacket finds its way to the small of Liyah’s back. “Wow, I knew they were good, but I didn’t think they were that good,” he deadpans.
“I wasn’t crying at the ads, I was crying because I missed you, you idiot.”
A slow smile spreads across Daniel’s face. “I know.”
“I know you know. I just wanted to call you an idiot. Now, please put your shit down so you can really kiss me.”
“What about the exhibit?” he asks, but he does what she says. This time, he kisses her long and slow, and she feels a shiver zip from her neck to her toes.
“It’ll still be there in fifteen minutes,” she says against his mouth.
“Hmm…”
“Just kissing, I promise. Siobhan works in this office, too.”
“We’re not gonna have sex in your office? I’m hurt.” Daniel pouts, and Liyah wonders if there’s a seed of truth in his feigned disappointment.
“Only because I explicitly promised Siobhan that we wouldn’t.” She brushes the stray strands of hair off his forehead, trailing her finger down, and cups his cheek once more. Her eyes linger on his lips. “Just kissing,” she mutters, mostly reminding herself.
Daniel does her favorite crooked smile. The one she loves so, so much. “Give me twenty minutes and you’ve got a deal.”