Say Yes (Nostalgic Summer Romance)

It was a leather shop.

I pushed inside the door, nodding at the older woman who greeted me when the bell chimed above my head to signal my entry. She was busy checking out another customer, so I let myself wander the outside edges of the shop.

Leather of all colors filled the wall, namely black and brown, but even some as bright as yellow and orange. There were purses and wallets, belts and backpacks, jackets and briefcases and everything in-between. Italy was known for its leather, and yet I hadn’t even so much as thought about shopping for anything while I was here.

When I hit the back of the store, I closed my eyes and inhaled, filling my chest with the distinct smell.

And when I opened my eyes again, I was face to face with Liam Benson.

The strangest squeaking sound yipped out of my throat as I jumped back and knocked right into a stand full of purses, which shook precariously before I ripped my hands out of my pockets to steady them.

“Well, hello there,” Liam said with a smirk. He had a melting scoop of gelato on top of the cone in his hand, and he dragged his tongue around the edges of it before grinning at me again. He wore his black leather jacket over a white Foo Fighters t-shirt, a studded belt around his waist, and olive-green cargo pants with entirely too many pockets.

His chestnut hair laid on top of his head in messy waves, curling around his ears, though the scruff on his chin did look like he’d trimmed it. And since he was practically standing on my toes, I could smell that he’d showered.

A rare occasion, I imagined.

I let out a breath, narrowing my eyes as I righted myself and the swaying purses. “Do you always sneak up on strangers in leather shops?”

“Do you always close your eyes and sniff like a creep in leather shops?” he shot back. “Besides, you’re not a stranger.”

“I might as well be. Excuse me,” I said, sliding past him. He didn’t budge, however, so every inch of me brushed against him as I wound my way out of the corner, careful not to disturb anymore merchandise.

“What are you shopping for?” Liam asked, right on my heels.

“Nothing.”

“Then what are you doing in here?”

“Nonya.”

He chuckled. “Clever. Almost got me with that one.”

I didn’t humor him with a response, just set my eyes on the exit and my focus on getting the hell away from the last person I wanted to see tonight. I was on a mission, and I needed to get away from him before he ruined it.

But he rounded a stand filled with leather pants and blocked the door. “Why do you hate me so much?”

I scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I barely know you exist, let alone care enough to hate you.”

“Ouch,” he said on a laugh, covering his heart and stumbling back a bit like I’d shot an arrow right through it. His gelato tipped dangerously with the move, but he caught it in time, licking the edges of it again before the sticky dessert met his hand. “So, I’m supposed to believe you look at everyone like that?”

“Like I’m annoyed that they’re blocking my exit from a leather shop? No. That one’s reserved for you.”

Liam smirked, pushing his back against the door until it opened and then holding it open for me. He gestured like he was a servant, and I was the queen, a dramatic bow that again had me in awe at the durability of his dessert.

I rolled my eyes as I walked through the door, thanking the cashier on my way out. I tucked my hands in the pocket of my jacket and set out in the same direction I’d been heading.

Liam fell into step right beside me.

“Can I help you with something?” I asked.

“Just tell me why you hate me, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Again, I do not hate you,” I gritted through my teeth.

“You just can’t stand me?”

I huffed, pulling to a stop and facing him. “Look. I’m on an important mission tonight, and I don’t need you or anyone else ruining it, okay? I’m running out of time, and this is my last resort. I don’t hate you. I like you just fine. Does it annoy me that you literally wait until the final hour to complete your projects and get doted on by the professor? Yes,” I admitted. “But I don’t hate you because you’re talented. I envy that you can be so lazy and still so impressive.”

Liam’s eyebrow shot up, the corners of his mouth turning down like what I said was surprising and flattering in measure. “Wow. Lazily impressive. I like that. I need to add that to my business card.”

I frowned, taking in this version of him that I hadn’t seen yet. I just didn’t understand him. One second he was moody and broody in the dark corner of a bar, and the next he was licking a gelato cone like an eight-year-old and making jokes.