Tell Me It’s Right (Sweetspire #1)

Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

GRACIE

“You don’t think this is a bit overkill?” I mutter.

Carson shushes me and refocuses on the brush she’s currently ramming into my eye socket. “I’m blending. Okay, now look up.”

I wince and try not to blink as she moves onto my lower lash line.

“What’s got you all melancholy?” she asks. “It’s a holiday! There, appreciate my masterpiece.” She spins my chair around to face her full-length mirror.

At least my makeup isn’t as in-your-face as the literal American flag she has painted on her cheek. A pop of blue eyeshadow sits in the inner corners and along my lash line, and she filled in the rest of the space with glitter and tiny white stars.

Beyond that, my skin has never looked this flawless and glowy when I do my makeup. I twist and turn to inspect her work from all angles.

“You’re a magician.”

She beams in the mirror behind me, then claps her hands on my shoulders.

“Come on, get changed. I want to get there before the hot dogs get cold. I heard they’ll have veggie dogs too!” she calls before disappearing into her closet.

I pull on my trusty red tube top from college and the pair of denim shorts she’s letting me borrow—covered in white stars and white fringe hanging off the front pockets, naturally. Carson opts for a red, white, and blue bikini and sheer beach cover-up, then hooks her arm through mine and leads us downstairs.

The Fourth has always been a big holiday around here—mostly because it’s one of the few holidays in the summer so it’s a good excuse for a beach party—but it’s never really been my thing. This year feels different though. Carson’s excitement is contagious, and I’ll take any distraction I can get right now.

The shop is closed for the long weekend, which means it’s been days.

And I still haven’t talked to Liam other than finally responding to say I needed some time. Days have passed, but I’m no closer to having a response than I was the moment it happened. Just giving him the silent treatment until I figured it out seemed cruel though.

The day is already in full swing when we arrive, loud enough to hear even when we’re several blocks away. Upbeat music from a live band carries over the sea of people, umbrellas, and barbeque. The party stretches from the boardwalk to the beach and every little nook and cranny it can squeeze into. It sounds like the parade is going on in the distance too. I tighten my grip on Carson so I don’t lose her in the crowds.

Not that she makes it easy on me. She is a woman on a mission, swerving in and out of people trying to find the best line to get a hot dog. By the smell of it, there’s no shortage of them.

The sun is really beating down today. I shade my eyes with my hand as we find a spot in line. Carson fills me in on all her work gossip as we wait—one of the dancers is pregnant, a regular customer’s wife came storming in and dragged him out, a new girl started working there and she’s been teaching them all tricks that no one’s ever seen before…

“Oh, wait, didn’t I hear you and Miles Cushing went on a date? Why are you letting me blabber on instead of giving me the details!”

My stomach dips, but in no small act of grace, we reach the front of the line, and I give the worker a probably too enthusiastic smile. “One beef and one veggie, please.” I wave Carson off when she reaches for her wallet and hand over a bill. “Consider it payment for your makeup services,” I say with a shrug.

We pivot for the beach once our hot dogs are sufficiently coated in ketchup and mustard, and she gives me a little smirk as we pause to slip off our flipflops.

“ Soooo . Miles?”

I grimace, but I should’ve known better that she wouldn’t drop it. The more I evade it, the more she’ll want to know. Better to make it sound boring so she’ll move on.

“Nothing worth talking about, I’m afraid. Bad date. Won’t see him again.”

“Ugh.” She hooks her arm through mine. “I should’ve known. He’s too hot. It’s like once you pass a certain threshold of hotness, they become too insufferable to date.”

I hum noncommittally.

“Oh, there they are!” She points to her group of friends already camped out on towels under a row of umbrellas, a cooler sandwiched in the sand between them.

“Hey, all!” Raquel waves over her head. I almost didn’t recognize her with the oversize sunglasses and floppy hat. Judging by the way her skin already looks tanned to a crisp, they’ve been out here awhile.

The three other girls smile and say hello—I think two were at the party a while ago, but I can’t remember any names—as Carson fishes our towels out of her bag and starts setting up. Her other roommate, Luna, is noticeably absent.

“We were thinking of hitting up the High Dive,” says one of the girls. “They’re doing two-dollar red, white, and blue shooters until sunset.”

“Only if someone cuts Mina off,” says Carson. “I don’t want a repeat of last year.”

The girl on the far end scoffs. I do a double take when I notice the tattoos covering her leg that are obviously still healing. She throws a towel over it as she readjusts herself to shade it from the sun. That style… I thought her name sounded familiar. She was Liam’s client.

Liam.

Even thinking his name has my stomach churning.

“I washed your clothes for you,” Mina says.

“What about the memory of getting puked on, huh? Who’s going to wash that out of my brain?”

“Gracie, you want something to drink?” offers Raquel. “We have beer and wine coolers.”

I blink back to the beach and smile as I take one of the strawberry ones and smooth out my towel next to Raquel. “Thanks for letting me crash your group.”

“Crash our…girl, you’re part of the group now!” She bumps her shoulder against mine and lowers her voice. “The girl who looks like she’s about to shove her fist down Carson’s throat is Mina, and that’s Bev. They work at the club too but live up near Jersey City. Came down here to escape the big Fourth crowds.”

Bev props her red heart-shaped glasses on her head and smiles at me. “You dance too?”

“Oh, no. Carson and I have known each other since we were kids.”

“Oh, cute! Childhood besties. Wish I had one of those. The girls I knew growing up were raging cunts.” She laughs at whatever she sees on my face, then reties her bikini around her neck and jumps to her feet. “Promise I’m a girls’ girl. They weren’t. I’m hitting the water!” And with that, she takes off for the waves at a run.

Raquel pats my leg. “You get used to her.”

I sip my drink as the girls start talking about some guy who comes into their work a lot. It’s kind of a relief to be out of the conversation for a minute anyway. I lean back on my elbows and people watch. The beach is much busier than a normal day, but not nearly as bad as the bigger celebrations farther north.

Mom and Dad used to take us to those when we were kids. The day was full of fried Oreos and amusement park rides and sparklers. These days they opt for a little backyard get-together since they have a good enough view of the fireworks from their porch. Mom always makes the best pasta salad anyway.

Carson says something I don’t hear, and everyone laughs. I smile along like I was paying attention.

Mom and Dad were really encouraging about me not spending today with them, saying I should go out and celebrate like the young folks. But I can’t help but wonder what they’re doing right now, if Leo and Keava are there yet, if?—

“First round’s on me!” Carson squeals as everyone climbs to their feet and starts packing their things.

“I’ll grab Bev,” Raquel mutters, then takes off toward the water.

Carson appears at my side once she’s finished folding her towel, and she tosses her arm over my shoulders. “So Gracie, you ever done a blowjob shot?”

Everyone is wasted and the sun hasn’t even gone down yet. Well, everyone but me. After the first red, white, and blue thing that tasted like straight up toothpaste, I’ve managed to artfully dodge each round of shots with quick trips to the bathroom or simply getting “lost” in the crowded bar.

The High Dive is one of the few bars left around here without the Brooks name attached to it, and it shows. Rather than the sleek, upscale feel the rest of them have, the High Dive seems to relish in its dinginess. All of the windows are covered with thick velvet curtains, and other than a few light fixtures hanging above the booths on the outskirts of the room, the space is lit with various neon signs.

After my third disappearing act, the bartender met my eyes with a smirk, clearly catching on. We went to high school together, actually. Fletcher, I think his name is. He fills my shot glasses with water for the rest of the night, and the girls are too far gone to notice.

It was busy when we showed up, but we’re well past standing room only now. I can’t even see the pool tables, just hear the crack of the balls in the distance. I thought maybe after I gave it some time, the whole thing would get more fun, but it’s just…not.

I check the time on my phone for the hundredth time tonight and finally pluck up the nerve to grab Carson and say, “Hey, I’m going to head out! I’m not feeling too great!”

I have to shout it over the music, and she blinks drunkenly at me for a moment like her brain is struggling to process the words.

“I can walk you home!” she says.

I don’t have faith she can walk at all at this point. If it weren’t for Raquel also being mostly sober, I don’t think I could bring myself to leave her at all.

“I’m gonna grab a taxi!”

Hopefully they planned for a lot of business tonight and it doesn’t take forever.

She pouts but hugs me goodbye, and I squeeze my way through the crowd toward the door, leaving a chorus of “Bye, Gracie!”s in my wake.

When a driver pulls up to the curb outside the bar, instead of Leo’s address, I give him Mom and Dad’s.

I close my eyes and lean my head against the window as the music fades behind us.

It doesn’t occur to me this might be a bad idea until we’re pulling into my parents’ driveway and there’s an extra truck parked there.

A very familiar, very pristine truck.

If the ride over here weren’t so damn expensive, I’d have half a mind to turn right around and head home.

The porch light flickers on as the door opens, and my father appears with a giant American flag top hat on. “Gracie! Hey, Gracie’s here!” he calls through the door.

I wince and extend an arm to hug him as I join him on the porch.

He smiles down at me. To my relief, he doesn’t ask about the cab or why I’m not with my friends. He says nothing about my random appearance at all, just squeezes my shoulders and leads me inside. “You’re just in time. Mom was about to cut the cake. And we haven’t done sparklers yet or anything.”

The house is empty as we head through the hall to the sliding glass doors. The sight of the backyard loosens a knot in my chest that I hadn’t realized was there. It looks exactly the same as it always does—corn hole set up in the middle of the yard, the grill off to the side, a wooden picnic table on the deck full of food on red, white, and blue plates.

But no sign of Liam.

Leo and Keava wave from their game of corn hole, but I beeline for the table and load up a plate of the pasta salad.

“Save room!” cries Mom as she hurries over with the cake.

Judging by how tall it is, that thing has at least three layers in it. The outside is pretty tame—white frosting covered in sprinkles and careful rows of icing piped along the edges. Strawberries and blueberries are artfully placed on top, along with a mini American flag.

She sets it on the table and goes in for a hug.

“Oh, sweetie. I’m so glad you came! It wasn’t the same without you here.”

“How long did you spend on this cake?” I ask, leaning in for a closer look.

“Pfft.” Mom waves her hand, but it’s Dad who calls, “Two days!” before ducking inside.

“Well, in that case, I’ll happily have cake for dinner,” I say.

Mom kisses me on the cheek, then gets to cutting.

The door creaks behind me, and I polish off the last of my pasta salad just in time for Mom to plop a giant piece of cake on my plate.

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

I jump, having expected my dad. But when I turn, it’s Liam standing two paces behind me. The moment I meet his eyes, I’m frozen, unable to look away. It feels like we stare at each other forever, then one corner of his mouth lifts, and softly he says, “Hey.”

“Hey,” I squeak.

“We cutting the cake?” Leo bounds over, and the moment breaks.

I blink and turn, taking my cake to the farthest spot at the table. The cake might be delicious, but I have no way of knowing because trying to chew as Liam sits across from me is impossible and it just tastes like ash. Everyone else chats and laughs, but I don’t hear a word. I can’t hear anything other than my pulse in my ears. I feel the weight of Liam’s gaze on me, but I focus on my plate.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I glance at it under the table, my stomach flipping at the sight of Liam’s name.

I can leave.

My eyes snap up to his, and my brows pull together as I subtly shake my head.

Another buzz.

Can we talk? Front porch?

Slowly, I nod.

“I’m gonna grab another beer,” says Liam as he pushes back from the table. “Anyone want anything?”

“Just a rematch,” says Keava with a wide grin.

He points at her. “My ego cannot take getting my ass kicked twice, but thanks.”

“Mom, this cake is so good,” says Leo around a mouthful. “Best you’ve ever made.”

She glows under the praise and wiggles a little in her chair. “I added a few special ingredients this time. You’ll never believe what they were! First?—”

I stand and give Dad a closed-lip smile along with a murmured, “Restroom,” before following Liam. I don’t give myself time to hesitate or overthink—I head straight for the porch.

He’s already waiting there when I step outside, sitting on the railing as his head tilts back to take in the last of the orangey-pink sunset lingering in the sky. He doesn’t turn, but he must hear my footsteps. I stare at his back for a moment before pushing myself forward and taking a seat beside him.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a moment. “I probably should’ve given you a heads-up.”

“I should’ve assumed you’d be here.”

He’s spent more holidays with us than not for as long as I can remember.

But that was before I knew what it felt like to have his tongue in my mouth. I squeeze my hands together in my lap and swallow hard. His eyes track the movement.

“Leo said you were going out with friends.”

“I did. It just…” I trail off, not sure how to explain it. How that version of today felt like what I was supposed to be doing, how I was supposed to embrace being young, but the entire day I felt like I was trying to fit into shoes that were too small for me.

“It’s never been my scene either,” he says with a shake of his head. “Look, Gracie.” He sighs, and every muscle in my body tenses for what comes next. “About the other day…” He presses his lips together and winces like he’s struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry. I know I’m your boss, and Leo’s friend…”

I brace myself for some derivative of it was a mistake, it won’t happen again, I don’t know what came over me, let’s just forget about it .

“And I don’t know when…why…I just—” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “All I know is the second I showed up here, I started looking for you. And now I’m sitting next to you, and I know I should go back inside, but I don’t want to get up. And not hearing from you the past few days, it’s all I’ve thought about. I think I’ve been holding back from saying anything for a while because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

“You do make me uncomfortable, Liam,” I whisper.

He blinks and rears his head back.

“But not…in a bad way.”

Everything falls silent. Slowly, he reaches up and cups the side of my face. His eyes hold mine as his fingers twist into my hair, and he trails his thumb down my cheek.

“In this kind of way?” he asks lowly.

I can’t speak. I can’t breathe.

I nod.

Something behind his eyes shifts, a wall coming down, and my breath hitches as his hand drifts farther back and cradles the base of my skull. He leans closer, close enough that I can smell his cologne, can see the faint freckles on his nose and the flakes of gold in his eyes.

The tip of his nose brushes mine, but he stops there, his breath washing over my cheek as he murmurs, “In this way?”

My heart is threatening to beat out of my chest. Vaguely, I register the fireworks going off in the distance.

I nod.

His lips are a whisper away, and they brush mine as he says, “In this?—?”

I close the last of the distance between us and kiss him. I don’t know what comes over me, but suddenly my desperation to feel his mouth on mine overrides everything else. Just to see, just to know if last time was a fluke. If I’m remembering it wrong. Building it up to be something more than it was.

But no. One thing is certain. Liam Brooks knows how to kiss. Not that I have much to compare it to, but there is no way, no way , anything could be better than this.

Gravity loses hold on my insides, and I’m just falling, melting, flying.

The few drunken make-out sessions I had in college were all rushed and sloppy—like I was a meal to be devoured, no matter how ugly or messy the process.

But Liam takes his time. Every movement is slow and deliberate as he gauges my reactions, but the more I relax against him, the tighter he holds me, the deeper he kisses me, the more everything else ceases to exist. He kisses me like he’s giving something, not taking it.

When he pulls back, I feel dazed, stunned, like my brain is stuck trying to reboot.

His gaze flicks to my lips, and a small smirk appears.

“What?” I murmur.

He shakes his head, his fingers weaving through my hair. “I just have the feeling you’re going to flip my entire life upside down.”

“In a bad way?”

The smirk grows as he leans in to kiss me again. “I don’t know. But it’s a way that I want.”

The front door opens, and we lurch apart.

Leo and Keava appear around the corner a moment later, smiling and holding hands.

“Oh, hey!” says Keava as she peers at the fireworks overhead. “Wow, good thinking. Much better view up here.”

Leo lifts their intertwined hands. “We’re gonna head to the beach for a bit.” He points at Liam. “Still on for the game tomorrow?”

Liam salutes him.

Leo pauses with one foot on the steps as he takes in the driveway. “Unless…Gracie, do you need a ride home?”

“I’ll take care of her,” says Liam.

“You sure?”

Liam waves him off. “It’s on my way.”

“See you at home, kid,” calls Leo as they take off.

We sit in silence until their taillights disappear into the night, and even then, neither of us says anything. But the ghost of a smirk lingers on Liam’s face as he reaches over and takes my hand.