The Dating Plan(77)

It was time to tell her how he felt. He loved her. He loved her quirks and eccentricities. Loved her eclectic clothes and fancy shoes. Loved her schedules, lists, and plans. He loved her passion for trivia and all things Marvel, the fact she could hack a game and own it, and that she was the smartest woman he knew. And he loved how dedicated she was to her family, how she adored and respected them, but wanted her independence, too.

He heard the high-pitched rev of an engine behind him. Tanya shot past, a blur on her red Triumph. If it had been any other day, he would have hit the throttle and chased after her. But he had Daisy with him, and he wasn’t in a hurry to get home. This was their last date, and that meant they were almost at the end of her dating plan. Only one thing remained—the meeting with her family. And one huge obstacle—her dad.

He had a speech all planned out. An apology. A partial explanation. He would show Mr. Patel that he’d turned his life around. That he wasn’t the man who had disappeared in the middle of the night. That he loved Daisy. And it wouldn’t be a lie.

He could only hope she loved him, too. That when their fake relationship ended, she would want to start something real.

Or maybe they already had.

He rounded a corner and saw a truck barreling toward them, trying to overtake a vehicle in the oncoming lane.

Heart pounding a frantic beat, he made a split-second decision and drove onto the shoulder, pumping his rear brake as they hit the gravel. The bike skidded, heading for the concrete retaining wall. Liam released the handlebars and, in one fluid motion, he twisted, grabbed Daisy, and threw them both off the bike. His body hit the ground with a teeth-rattling thud. He rolled and rolled until the world began to fade. He reached out his arms, but Daisy was gone.





? 26 ?


LIAM had no idea how long he’d been sitting on the chair outside Daisy’s hospital room. It could have been an hour or a day or a week. All he knew was that he couldn’t leave. Not until he knew she was okay. Not until he’d said goodbye.

Bent over, elbows resting on his knees, head down, he stared at the floor. He was vaguely aware of people going in and out of Daisy’s room. Old and young, family and friends, nurses and doctors. Her family had rented a function room somewhere in the hospital where they could gather and support each other, sending people two at a time to her room so she wouldn’t be alone when she awoke. He figured they must have brought enough food to feed an army. Every hour or so, someone would offer him a plate, but he couldn’t eat. Daisy couldn’t eat. Why should he?

He heard a rustle beside him, caught a glimpse of a bright green tunic, felt a hand on his shoulder. Although he just wanted to be left alone, he looked up. Just in case. Good news or bad, he needed to know.

It took him a moment to recognize Daisy’s aunt Taara without her shark costume. She was shorter than he’d thought, older, her dark hair swinging around her shoulders.

“I made this for you.” She handed him a clear plastic container, her face creased in a frown. “Layla said you haven’t eaten anything in three days. It’s your favorite. Shark Stew. I went to the SAP arena to get the authentic ingredients. All your nutrients are there.”

“Thank you.” His voice, unused for so long, was so hoarse it was almost unrecognizable. “That’s very kind.”

They had all been kind. Her family had treated him as if he were one of them. It made no sense. Daisy was in that hospital bed because of him, because she had been on his bike, because he had asked her to ride.

“Taara, what are you doing?” Daisy’s aunt Salena reached for the container. He remembered her from the conference center, although they had only shared a few words. “He survived the crash. We don’t want to kill him now.”

“He likes it.” Taara handed him the container. “I gave him some at the hockey game and he ate it all. Every bit.”

“Did he now?” Salena gave Liam an appraising stare. “He must have a cast-iron stomach. Or maybe he’s missing his taste buds. Or maybe . . .” Her voice softened. “He has a good heart.”

“He has a broken heart.” Taara patted his shoulder. “But it’s going to be okay. Daisy is going to be fine. The doctor said so. No broken bones. No internal injuries. Not even skin abrasions. She was well protected in her motorcycle suit. She just needs to wake up, and it will all be good.”

Liam pressed his lips tight together and nodded. It wasn’t going to be fine. He was his father’s son after all, causing pain to everyone he loved.

Time passed. Deepa stopped by his chair to tell him his sherwani was ready, and she’d found him a bigger sword. Amina had a new recipe for a not-so-spicy pork vindaloo. Sam had arranged for Hamish to pick up his motorcycle and take it to the shop. Mehar, who had snuck Max into the hospital in Daisy’s Marvel tote bag, put Max in Liam’s lap for a quick hug.

Someone sat beside him and he tensed, hands clenching into fists as he prepared to be assailed yet again by love. He couldn’t even imagine having a family like the Patels. A family that would hold him up, instead of tearing him down. A family that would rent a room in the hospital so he wouldn’t be alone.

“Even I think this is too much,” Layla said, tugging on his shoulder until he was upright. “You had a concussion, too. You were supposed to go home and rest.”

“I am resting.”