His phone beeped, and it sounded like he sent a quick text. “A manual I proofed last week was approved and just went to print,” he explained.
“Ah, the satisfaction of checking something off the list,” I smiled.
“So, what movies are you into?” Liam asked casually.
Once again, I wished that I could see his eyes when I answered. “I like science fiction, and action sometimes. And documentaries about art, and the human psyche.” I smirked at myself. “And of course, the odd silly romantic chick flick.”
“Hey, those movies are very handy for some of us to try to understand women,” he chuckled.
“What do you like?” I asked. “Car chases?”
I loved that he gave my knee a little pat now and then, perhaps to show me that he was smiling. “Yeah, sometimes. I like science fiction too. And mysteries, and horror.”
I cringed. “Horror is the one genre that is seriously not for me.”
“Why not?” He sounded genuinely curious. “Too much blood?”
“I don’t like that, no, but mostly it’s the jump scares. Can’t stand it
. I can’t even stand other people being scared on those prank shows. It’s horrible.”
“Note to self – no big surprises for Kayla.”
“Thanks,” I laughed. “Do you like being scared?”
“No, they don’t scare me at all. But somehow… they pull me completely into the story. I love trying to figure out what’s going on, and they’re usually pretty dark visually. I like disappearing for a while, really mentally checking out.”
“Me too, but for me, that’s what books are for.”
I felt him shift on the couch. “Yeah, you’re going to need an extra bookshelf soon.”
“And then another,” I chuckled.
I heard him stand up, going over to the shelves. “I like that you have them alphabetically by author,” he said. “I saw a photo where somebody arranged everything by color.”
“I’ve seen that,” I laughed. “It was really pretty, and maybe it works if you only have fifty books. But more than that, and you need a system.”
Liam paused, and once again, I realized with slight discomfort that he was checking out my home. “I see,” he said quietly. “Fiction, non-fiction, and art books. But what’s with the vertical stacks all jumbled on the middle shelf?”
“Oh, that’s my to-read pile.”
He sat back on the couch and patted my knee again. “Well then, I’m glad your eyes are getting fixed so that you can get cracking before that pile is taller than you are. Those textbooks are bigger than your head as it is.”
Why did he make me laugh so much? “The big gold one? That is a great doorstop, and perfect for crushing dried flowers,” I said.
“Well, I can honestly say that’s something I’ve never tried,” he confessed.
“It’s not much of a sport for big guys.” I reached behind me and felt for the blanket, throwing it over my knees as I curled up sideways to face him. Even though I couldn’t see, it felt more sociable. “Are you into sports?” I asked.
I heard a slight rustle. “Oh shit. Sorry – I shrugged.” We both laughed. “I play basketball, baseball, and soccer. Only casual weekend afternoon games with buddies.”
“Never on real teams?”
“Nah.” It sounded like he was shaking his head. “When I was younger, I did a bit. But I don’t like how insanely competitive it got. Can’t everyone just play their best game then grab a beer?”
“You sound very wise.”
“Oh yes,” he said. “I have the wisdom of the ages. So when it’s time for me to suggest you eat your vegetables, you know it comes from a timeless, important voice.” He paused. “You don’t seem like the type into sports at all. No offense.”