All the Feels (15 page)

“My God,” Xander said, “Was that as awful as it looked?”

“Worse.”

Arden snorted. “It would’ve helped if you took my advice to get him to talk about himself.”

“I tried!” Liv said. “But he was so shy he wouldn’t answer me. I swear to God, Arden, less than twenty words passed between us!”

“You’re exaggerating. I watched.”

“It looked horrible to me,” Xander said.

“Some level of hell.” Liv laughed.

Arden smirked. “Then they can only get better, right?”

The second date made Liv reassess that level of optimism. Jimmy was a bodybuilder, but his personality clearly needed work.

“So you’re Arden’s friend, huh?” he said, avidly admiring Liv’s chest.

She crossed her arms. “Um … yeah.”

“She was right,” he said with a chuckle.

“Right about what?”

“You’re stacked.”

“I—I’m what?!”

He winked. “They real ones? Actually, doesn’t matter. I’m not fussy. I like both.”

Liv felt her cheeks light on fire. “I—I can’t believe you just said that!”

But Jimmy wasn’t listening. He untucked his too-tight T-shirt. “Check this out, babe.”

“Oh sweet Jesus. What’re you doing?”

He nodded to his own reflection in the café window. “Check out my back,” he grunted.

“Sorry—your what?”

He pulled his shirt higher and tensed. “My back,” he repeated. “Check that baby out.” He twisted so that the muscles rippled into high-def. “Yeah, that’s right. That doesn’t happen overnight. Anyone can get a six-pack, but you gotta put some real time in to get your wings to show.”

Liv smothered a fit of giggles under her hand. “You must be … so proud.”

She looked over at the counter. Xander was red-faced and laughing, while Arden stared at her with fury.
“TALK TO HIM!”
she mouthed, but Xander’s mirth proved too difficult.

“Something in my throat,” Liv choked, stumbling away from the table, “gotta go!” She made it halfway to the bathroom before she exploded into a gale of laughter.

Arden was not amused.

The next attempt at matchmaking was a volatile management student who claimed Liv’s state-provided scholarship was the slippery slope toward communism. When he started grilling her on her political views, Liv faked an attack of food poisoning and walked out, glaring daggers at Arden and Xander the entire time.

The fourth was a new experience.

Liv was the first one to arrive at Cup O’ Joe. It was a Wednesday night, and the café was mostly empty. Xander had the espresso machine half-disassembled, steam hissing in the background.

“Where is he?” Liv asked.

“Just have a seat,” Arden said, not holding her eyes. “I’m sure the bus is just late or something.” She pushed a coffee into Liv’s hands. “Here. I got you this.”

“Thanks, Arden.”

Liv was halfway through her coffee when a fresh-faced young woman with a short mop of hennaed hair sat next to her.

“Hey, Liv!” she said, offering her hand. “I’m Mona.”

Liv’s eyes widened. “Hi…?”

Mona shook Liv’s hand. “You’re Arden and Xander’s friend, right?”

Liv nodded. Her gaze jumped to Arden, who was staring at her with the intensity of an Olympic gymnast about to mount the high beam. Her gaze jumped to Xander. Only his hair was visible behind the coffee machine.

“I … yeah. I am.” Liv frowned. “Sorry, but I’m supposed to be meeting someone right now.”

Mona’s smile faltered. “That’d be me, actually.”

Liv’s eyebrows shot into her hairline. “Oh God. Sorry! I didn’t realize—” She sent Arden a withering glare.

“It’s fine,” Mona said. “Good to meet you, Liv.”

There was a long, awkward silence. Liv stared at her coffee feeling a sudden kinship to Ken, the chemist. Maybe if she didn’t look up, Mona would disappear.

“So, how did you meet Arden?” Mona finally asked.

“Through Xander.”

There was another silence.

“And how’d you meet Xander?”

Liv’s gaze flicked up. Mona was looking at her with a pained expression. This was just as horrible for her, Liv realized.

“We met in a college class.” Liv gave a weak smile. “I didn’t have any friends, but Xander sort of took pity on me.”

Mona nodded to the counter where Xander had reappeared, working through the nozzles of the disassembled machine. “Xander’s a great guy. I heard you helped him sew his new jacket. That’s pretty cool, Liv.”

Liv frowned. “You know Xander well?”

Mona grinned. “We dated for about six months back in senior year.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “It was actually Xander who suggested we might click.”

Liv’s mouth fell open.
Xander had set her up!

Mona began to giggle. “Don’t worry about it.” She laughed. “There’s no fireworks for me, either. But it’s always cool to meet Xander’s friends. He talks about you a lot.”

“He does?” Liv glanced back to the counter. Arden’s penetrating gaze hadn’t wavered, but Xander was studiously avoiding eye contact.

“Uh-huh. We don’t hang out that much anymore, but we’re still friends. Xander’s a good guy. One of the best.”

Liv grinned and turned back. “I know, right?”

And for the rest of the “date,” Liv and Mona chatted about Xander: his likes and dislikes, facts and foibles. By the time Mona stood to go, Liv felt she’d struck out where dating was concerned but gained a friend despite it.

“Well, I should go,” Mona said. “It was good to meet you, Liv.”

“It really was.”

“If you want to hang out sometime,” Mona said, “you just need to call.”

Liv smiled. “Thanks, Mona. I think I will.”

After that, the dates blurred into one another, until Liv could barely keep the names straight. The last week and a half felt like she’d been on a roller coaster, peaking at high hopes only to barrel back down into reality. While she was too busy to have the deep lows of depression, she could barely keep her grip as she spun from one person to another.

At the end of yet another failed coffee date, Arden sat next to Liv. “You’ve gotta give me something to work with, Liv,” she said grimly. “I can’t do this on my own.”

“How about
not
working with me,” Liv grumbled. “I’m just fine.”

Arden turned back to where Xander watched from behind the counter. “Xander, you talk to her,” she said wearily, then walked away. “I don’t have time to deal with this tonight.”

Liv winced as Arden slammed the door behind her.

Xander sauntered over to the table with two lattés and set one before her.

“A peace offering?” Liv said drily.

“Something like that. Was it as bad as it looked from afar?”

With a dark look, Liv lifted her cup. “Worse.” She blew across the top of the cup, watching the surface ripple and swirl. “I think Arden has terrible taste in men”—Xander opened his mouth to argue—“present company notwithstanding,” Liv amended. “Everyone else has been horrible.”

“Mona was nice.”

Liv choked, the latté sloshing over the edge and onto her fingers. “You set that up to be mean,” she said, putting the cup back on the table.

Xander smirked. “I didn’t actually. She’s a cool chick.”

“Then why don’t you date her?”

Xander’s grin widened. “I did, dearest. That’s how I know.”

“But I’m not gay!”

“But you might be bi,” Xander said. “You never actually said.” He waved away Liv’s protesting gasp. “I just thought you should check Mona out. Sexuality is a spectrum, Liv. Never know until you try.”

“I’m not sure Arden’s buffet approach is working.”

“Ah, but you’re out. You’re meeting people.”

“The
wrong
people,” Liv said with a bitter laugh.

“But that’s still progress.”

“How, exactly?”

“Tell me what you
don’t
want,” he said with a nod. “Tell me all the things that annoy you.”

“That’s going to be a long list,” Liv grumbled.

“Ah, but now you know what you don’t like, it’s only a matter of finding what you do.”

“That is a twisted sense of logic.”

“You sure?”

“Pretty sure.” Liv lifted her cup and took another sip. “I think Arden should stick with acting. Matchmaking may not be her forte.”

“Probably not,” Xander sighed. “But you’re not scared of making small talk anymore, are you? I’ve seen you do it. You know the tricks of faking calm. Feigning interest. You might not like it, but you can do it. That, dearest, is the start of glamour.” He was watching her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.

Liv paused, the warmth of the cup pressed against her lips. He was right. She
hadn’t
been scared tonight. She’d said hello, she’d made small talk. She’d realized her date was no one she’d ever want to spend a lot of time with, and they’d parted on amicable terms.

“I guess.”

“You can do it now. You can’t say you’ve never dated, because you have. A lot of people, actually.” Xander gave her a mischievous grin. “You’ve leveled up, dearest. You’re an expert on dating compared with Liv of six months ago.”

Liv lowered her cup, a slow smile dawning across her face. “Yeah. I suppose I am.”

The corner of Xander’s mouth twitched. “Now we just have to get you out of the convent and into the real world.”

8

“I’D JUST AS SOON KISS A WOOKIEE!”

(
STAR WARS
)

The first Saturday in May found Liv wandering the downtown streets that made up the Pearl Street Mall, en route to Cup O’ Joe. She’d spent all morning studying for her upcoming finals. Heavily caffeinated coffee and a pastry—rather than Liv’s go-to support of fandom—would be her much-deserved reward.

The sky was bright and cloudless, blotches of vibrancy appearing in the newly budded trees and spring flowers. Nearing the intersection, she stepped from the shadows of the building onto the sun-bleached sidewalk.

“Liv! How are you?”

She turned, squinting, to discover Hank jogging up to her. His hair was even blonder than she’d remembered, his teeth a perfect porcelain white, and that smile.
Oh God! That Spartan smile!
She felt her skin warm in his beaming presence.

“Wasn’t sure it was you,” Hank said with a laugh. “It’s good to see you.”

Liv shifted nervously. “Y-you, too.”

“So what’re you doing downtown?”

“Coffee,” she choked out. “Food.”

Speak in sentences!
her brain commanded, but all her body parts had gone rogue. Liv’s lips refused to create the sounds she wanted, and her heart was beating so fast she could hear it in her ears. Hank waited patiently. Like Spartan, he was blindingly beautiful: tall and athletic, with a smile so bright it hurt her eyes to look at it.

Hank smiled (again). “That’s cool, Liv! Where at?”

She nodded down the street. “Cup O’ Joe.”

He grinned down at her like that was the best thing he’d heard. “Great! Mind if I join you?”

Liv had read the term “blindsided” in any number of fandom fic, but she’d never really understood it until this moment.

“Wh-what?”

“Coffee, y’know? Just you and me.”

“Why?” She couldn’t help the accusatory tone.

His smile dropped to a 60-watt gleam before bouncing back up to 120. “’Cause you’re here and I’m here. And there’s a coffee shop at the end of the street.”

“You want to go for coffee,” Liv repeated. “With me. Alone.” What in the world was happening?

Hank rolled onto his heels, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, I do.” He dropped his voice. “I’ve really missed talking to you. It’s weird not sitting with you in class every day.”

She couldn’t think over the rush of emotions, all her rebellious feelings fighting to get out of the cocoon where she’d hidden them over the last two weeks. If her heart pounded any faster, it would burst. She’d die here—
right here!
—on the street, and Hank would have to deal with the body. That, Liv decided, was worse than humiliation. In hopes of keeping herself alive, Liv started walking.

“All right,” she said. “Coffee.”

Hank fell into position at her side, walking with her the way he’d done so many times after sociology, earlier that spring. Body tingling, Liv could barely talk, but it didn’t matter. Hank always had a thousand things he was passionate about, and he launched into a diatribe about the effects of chemicals on bees and his plan to go tree-planting in Washington later this summer. She watched him through the veil of her hair, trying to put on the confident glamour Xander always swore was the key.

It wasn’t working!

In minutes, they were inside, at the counter. Xander stood at the cappuccino machine, focusing a hissing jet of steam into a silver urn. He glanced up as they neared.

“Hey, Liv,” Xander said with a smile. “I didn’t expect you to—”

His eyes widened in shock for half a second, then his face turned into a mask of icy contempt. Liv knew the look. She and Xander watched the BBC version of
Pride and Prejudice
in their film class; and if there had ever been an image of Mr. Darcy, haughty and annoyed, it was Xander at that moment. His lip curled. His jaw clenched. And he drew himself up to his full height, which would have been more impressive if he wasn’t a good six inches shorter than Hank.

“Xander,” Liv said nervously. “This is Hank.”

“Hey, buddy,” Hank said amicably, extending his hand. “Good to meet you.” Xander glared at the proffered fingers as if he’d been offered a soiled handkerchief. He nodded, but his grip stayed on the urn full of frothy milk, ignoring Hank’s gesture.

“My pleasure,” Xander said, though his tone belied his words. “Liv’s told me
all
about you.”

Hank glanced at Liv in confusion. “Oh?”

“About the project we did,” Liv rushed to explain. “I—I talked to Xander about the sociology project.”

“Well, any friend of Liv’s is a friend of mine,” Hank said.

“Mmph,” Xander snorted. He caught Liv’s eye, and she gave him a pleading look.

“Coffee,” Liv said.

“Two coffees would be great, man,” Hank chimed.